Last Thursday marked the end of our first ‘adults-only’ trip in four years, to none other than romantic, stunning Udaipur— the Venice of India—complete with tours of the Maharana’s City Palace and a 600-year-old fort, candlelit dinners high above the glowing Water Palace and a morning bike ride through Udaipur’s lush green countryside. These four days had the potential to be perfect. If only India didn’t make it so challenging to enjoy their beautiful, centuries-old marvels.
We arrived on Monday and, after a quick bite to eat at a waterfront cafe, went straight to the crown jewel of Udaipur—the City Palace—a structure on the banks of Lake Pichola that was begun in 1553 and expanded on for over 400 years. We had heard much about the beauty and historical importance of this massive granite and marble edifice and were eager to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out we weren’t the only ones who were interested.
The entrance was impressive—a grand gate with three arches that elephants would parade through back in the day. Beyond that was a beautiful, spacious courtyard with lovely gardens in the center. We were funneled toward a grand staircase leading up to a two-story high massive brown door with large golden crest above it. Little did we know that we were about to enter a one-way maze, complete with loads of teeny-tiny two-foot-wide corridors, twisty staircases and dozens of five-foot-high doorways! Once you were in, there was no turning back though, as we soon learned the hard way as we turned a corner and smashed into a backlog of tourists waiting to go up a staircase. Just as we were about to turn around and backtrack, another group of Indian tourists started pushing into us from behind (Indians seem to love being close to each other—in fact, the closer the better 😊). Ugh. We were trapped. I didn’t dare look my husband in the eye because there was nothing he hated more than crowds and I was the one who had insisted on us coming here. Ooops.
This pattern continued more or less for 90 minutes with brief reprieves as we entered small rooms (full of Indian visitors taking selfies and/or orchestrating elaborately posed photoshoots, all presumably destined for Facebook and Instagram) but were then funneled back into tiny corridors and narrow stairways. At each of those chokepoints, people from behind would try pushing past you with no regard to the fact that you’d been standing there for five minutes waiting your turn to enter. When we were finally released from the madness back into the courtyard, we beelined it for a bench to recover on.
We spent a few minutes talking about how unexpectedly exhausting the experience of visiting a museum was before I jokingly said, “Well at least no one asked to take photos with us.†No sooner had that come out of my mouth than a baby was plunked onto Nick’s lap. “Take a picture with my baby,†a stranger said smilingly as he began snapping away. I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open. I mean it’s one thing to ask first, but this was a bold move I’d not seen before. I was so proud of Nick for not losing his cool, since I knew he was long past his meltdown point. “Did that really just happen?†I said to Nick.
I suggested we head back to the hotel, as I figured Nick would need some detox time before we could do something else. He was in super husband mode though and to my surprise suggested that we go on a boat ride around Lake Pichola instead. Of course I said yes, touched that he was trying so hard. We queued up for our tickets and boarded the 4 PM boat. The temp was a perfect 75 degrees and the sun’s intensity had softened, its rays softly kissing our skin instead of singeing it. I settled into my front row bucket seat, putting my feet up on a boat ledge that seemed perfectly placed as a footrest.
Our boat began a slow clockwise circle around the lake, cruising past the City Palace on our right and its sister building, the Lake Palace, on our left. The Lake Palace was an engineering marvel, appearing to rest right atop the water, no ground to be seen. Just a perfect white palace emerging straight from the lake. Would’ve been fun to stay there (it’s now a Taj hotel) but hard to justify at $1000 a night during the holiday season. We continued skirting the edge of the lake, the seamless wall of havelis providing an interesting façade. Most buildings held guest houses on the first four floors and a restaurant on the top floor. We thought it was just going to be an out-and-back cruse, but, to our surprise, our boat was heading straight for Jagmandir Island, another lake island with a small hotel, public gardens and a restaurant.
We got off and decided to do a bit of exploring. We wandered through a park that seemed long-deserted, making our way toward the western part of the island where we hoped to find a nice view of the setting sun. Unfortunately, our timing was a bit early so we meandered back to check out the restaurant. The timing was right for happy hour though, and I couldn’t resist the elegant row of marble high-top tables, each with a custom view of the lake and City Palace created by the natural frame that the stone columns provided. It was perfection. I swear beverages taste better in beautiful settings—which is why I had to have two, not just one!
The sun was going down now, a chill coming in the air. Time to head back. I threw on my sweater and we boarded the return boat. It had been a long day, but we needed to eat before retiring for the day. We walked for 20 minutes, eventually locating our intended restaurant within the maze of streets. Five flights of stairs later and we were settled into our rooftop location overlooking the water. It was 6 PM and we had our pick of tables (normal Indian dinner time is 8 PM) and the sun had finally set, leaving the sky full of orange and yellow hues. The Water Palace had been lit up since we last left it, shimmering like a jewel in the center of the lake. All around the lake, lights were turning on at the various havelis surrounding the lake. It was a true feast for the eyes. We enjoyed a leisurely dinner, finally deciding to head home when our thin sweaters were no longer providing adequate warmth. I was pleased that we had salvaged our day after a rough start and had seen the city from all its various vantage points—in the streets, on the water and from on high. I wonder what tomorrow would bring on our long day trip to a Jain temple and a 600-year-old fort?
Come back tomorrow for the second half of the story!
