Train, Train, Go Away
I arrived at the Delhi Cantt railway station to begin my train tour across the Indian state of Rajasthan on the grandly-named Palace on Wheels. It is a private train, like the Orient Express, that takes 150 or so people to see marvelous historical sites located in Northern India. A huge banner welcomed the guests: men in colorful turbins sitting on elephants (and for a small baksheesh, or tip, we could have our picture with the elephant), women in saris laying chains of marigolds and roses around our necks, more women in saris applying the traditional red powers of blessing on our foreheads. This was, to Indians, a five-star affair, no question. I was greeted by my very own "cabin captain" Mr. Singh, who is always impeccably dressed in a khaki salwar suit and splendidly-colored turbin.

My cabin is a bit small, but as I'm only one person and have recently lost weight, it's enough. Another challenge is the hot water: hot water comes from a geyser, with the pipes in the sink and shower drawing from that limited-volume geyser of heated water. So I have about five minutes to shampoo, condition, soap up and rinse off before I'm brutally startled by icy cold water. Perhaps the biggest challenge is the aging railroad infrastructure: the rails aren't as flat as they used to be, I guess, which results in a very bumpy ride. It felt like the Runaway Mine Train ride at Six Flags. The jerking and sometimes violent shaking allowed the guests only about 3 hours of sleep per night: everyone was cranky and tired. The Hallelujah chorus broke out (in my head) whenever the train stayed stationary in a town overnight.

The service, however, is incredible. I slide open my cabin door and out pops Mr. Singh from the end cabin, inquiring if I need anything. They wake me up for breakfast, they meet me at the train station entrance after every day tour to walk me back to my cabin, Mr. Singh even walked me to a phone booth in Jaisalmer at 11:45pm one night so I could call my pharmacist back home. The bar cart serves wine, beer and mixed drinks during "cocktail hour" before dinner . . . offering me all the peanuts I can eat.

Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood?
I have met some great people on the Palace on Wheels, with whom I will certainly keep in touch. Fran and Bob from DC and Fran's daughters Lizzie (LA) and Margaret (San Francisco) and Margaret's husband Jeff were the wonderfully fun family I spent the most time with. There is also Gary and Sveta, ethnic Indians from Manchester, England: they just got married a week prior in Delhi, and are absolutely adorable. Indrani and Dan from Cleveland came with her father Gagan, a native Bengali from Calcutta who is now a doctor in Cleveland. A big Dhanyabad goes to Gagan, who provided a remarkably thorough hand-written dictionary of key Bengali words and phrases, for my upcoming trip to Calcutta. Most of the people are from England, Germany, Japan and America. It made for an interesting international experience.

Another Day, Another Meal
The Palace on Wheels was certainly not lacking for food. Every lunch and every dinner, whether on the train or in a five-star hotel, was celestial. Breakfast in the Dolphur Car Lounge (the name of my train car) consisted of tea with milk and honey, toast, scrambled eggwhites and oatmeal with honey. The dinners on the train were practically a 12-course meal: men came by every 5 minutes shoving yet another decadent dish in our faces.

The lunches at the five-star hotels were equally extraordinary spreads in beautiful presentation. Either in immense dining halls in a former palace or outside underneath dignified umbrellas overlooking perfectly-manicured lawns, the buffets were a feast. And with each meal comes all the nan (Indian bread) and chapati (another Indian bread) and rice that we could eat. In fact, you really do need nan or chapati to sop up all of the soupy mixture, which was the base of most of the dishes we ate. And it was deelish . . . sometimes the nan came as "butter nan" or "garlic nan." It was an Atkins Diet Nightmare. Note: if you're on a low-carb diet, don't bother coming to India. You're out of luck.

There's not a lot of salad going on in India. The main staples are bread or rice (or bread and rice) and dal, a lentil-based soupy mixture, or some sort of curry. Not all Hindus are vegetarians, but most are and therefore the menus consist of a wide variety of meats, or not. There are a wide variety of food items from which to choose . . . unfortunately I can't read the name or recognize about 90% of what I eat. That just kind of adds to the adventure!

One night on the train I simply cried "uncle" and asked Mr. Singh if I could just have some sliced tomatoes and cucumbers sprinkled w/ black pepper for dinner, to be served in my cabin. No way would I be able to make it to the dinner car for yet another 12-course meal. It appears I started a trend: I heard several requests for tomato/cucumber slices from other guests for their dinners/lunches as well.

At the trip's end my fellow guests and I remarked at how much weight we'd all gained. I can kiss those new blue jeans I bought before the trip goodbye.

Jaipur: Day One
The first sightseeing excursion is in the city of Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan (population = 2.3 million). Known as the "Pink City" due to many of the buildings being painted a pink/salmon color, Jaipur is a bustling town of extremes. Like in Delhi, there is a large population of homeless and hungry begging everywhere you turn. As Jaipur is a real tourist town (or a tourist trap to some extent), hawkers, shop owners and taxi drivers await for us, the fresh-meat tourists.

Palatial hotels share the territory with countless street children. Jaipur's old city is lined with long bazaars, twinkling from Christmas lights, bare lightbulbs or open fires. Vegetable-laden carts thread their way through streets jam-packed with cars, cows, rickshaws, bicycles, ugly snuffling pigs (yes, pigs), motorcycles and pedestrians. And they all seem to get to where they want to go, through the incessant honking of horns.

There is a lot of energy in Jaipur, with imposing historical and cultural wealth. First stop was the Hawa Mahal, a five-story building constructed in 1799, overlooking the main street of old Jaipur. This major landmark is pink (of course) with dozens and dozens of honeycomb-lattice sandstone windows.

Second, we visited Amber (pronounced "ah-mur"), the fort-palace built in 1592 on a huge hill overlooking the Jaipur valley. How did we make it up that hill, you ask? By elephant, naturally! Don't think Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom . . . it wasn't one person per, straddling a beast. Four of us sat in a comfortable seat facing outward. I reached down to feel the elephant's skin (how often does one get to do that?): it is tough and leathery, inches thick. Amber is spectacular, with its intricate, brightly colored architecture. What was most striking were the mirrored walls and ceilings. Mirrors were glazed into the walls and surrounded in magnificent colorful paint patterns. The windows were either stained-glass or honeycomb-lattice. There was a Great Wall-type structure on the hill across the valley from Amber, and it was impressive.

Third, we moved on to the City Palace and Observatory (built in 1728), which was pretty, but also pretty lame. I was more interested in the three-dozen wild monkeys jumping around. I observed quickly that one of their favorite activities, besides grooming each other, was climbing on walls high above, sticking their butts over the edge and pooping. Luckily yours truly was astute enough to avoid walking too close to the walls.

Jaisalmer: Day Two
Jaisalmer (JAI-suhl-MEHR) is called "The Golden City," dubbed for its honey color. It is much smaller than Jaipur (about 60,000 people) and was a nice change of pace from the big cities, traffic and pollution. We toured the Jaisalmer Fort (built in 1156), the Jain temple (built in the 1300's) and the elegant havelis, which are ornate homes several stories tall with dozens of those honeycomb-lattice windows (built in the 1800's).

That evening was one of the highlights of the whole Palace on Wheels trip: heading out into the desert. We were to have a proper tea service somewhere in the desert about 30 minutes away. How did we make it through the desert, you ask? By camel, naturally! Lizzie and I shared a camel, and were led by a guide. Our camel's name was Michael Jackson. So good to know that in the middle of a desert in Nowhere India that this, MJ, is the American export that gets picked up. We were all so proud.

We arrived at what seemed like an oasis in the sunset: a circle of large tents connected by lovely carpets (to avoid getting sand in our shoes), colorful flags of deep red, green and yellow flying in the wind. Inside the circle was an outdoor inner-commons area with comfortable wicker chairs and little tables. Sharply-dressed Indian men with bright-colored turbins served us tea. The weather was simply perfect: cool with only a bit of a breeze, the sunset turned the sand and sky the most beautiful colors. I felt frozen in the moment, bathing in the gentle, fading light and quiet. I had room to breathe.

After the desert camel ride and tea time, the guests got cleaned up and went to a dinner and cultural program at a Jaisalmer hotel. Everyone dressed up; noteworthy was Gary, resplendent in his majarajah-looking traditional white Indian suit and turbin. We were immediately greeted with drinks, and we sat in comfortable chairs around a stage, where performers in colorful traditional garb played instruments and danced. They entreated us to join them in the dancing. As most of us were white, our attempts at traditional Indian dance were mostly spastic motions. It was fun nonetheless.

Jodhpur: Day Three
To date this is my favorite stop, next to the desert last night. With a population of 800,000, this "The Blue City" is named as such because most of the homes, practically on top of each other, are painted . . . you guessed it . . . blue. Indigo, to be precise. My Lonely Planet guidebook calls it "a crazed cubist mass of indigo angles, spread along the edge of the Great Thar Desert." Traditionally blue signifies the home of a Brahmin (a high caste), but today others take on the practice, as blue is thought to be a cheap, effective means for repelling mosquitos.

We visited Mehrangarh Fort and Jaswant Thada. Both are, like every other fort and important building built by majarajahs, are beautiful. Jaswant Thada was one of the newer sites we saw (built in 1899) also has a museum of old everyday objects, like palaquins (ornate seat planks, covered or non-covered, for riding on elephants or for being carried by servants), swords, paintings, tapestries and artwork depicting scenes of battle, bravery or enlightenment. Jackie Kennedy apparently visited here.

We lunched at the Umaid Bhawan Palace . . . and what a place to eat! The décor is described as "a mix of Art Deco, 1970's gangster chic and Indian accent." The Majarajah (king) of Jodhpur lives in another part of the palace, and still uses the billiards room and takes tea, port and cigars in the hunting trophy room. Just one of the benefits of being a Majarajah, I guess.