12 March 2015 / leggypeggy

Poor John survives two days on a camel in Rajasthan

camels, dancers, deserts, dogs, India, Rajasthan, tents, Thar Desert, villages, water

Some of our guides and camels. My guide is in purple. See the little fellow to the left of the guy in turquoise? He less than 10 years old

Poor John is never keen on riding animals. Horses are out. Bull-riding is out. Emus and ostriches are out. Donkeys are marginally okay because, as he says, it’s not that far to fall off a donkey.

So you can imagine he wasn’t at all impressed when he realised that our travels in India included two days in the Thar Desert on CAMELS.

Oh, you should have heard him grumble and grumble and grumble. But he swallowed his complaints, mounted a camel and was heaved high into the air.

He was never sure whether his camel was named Rajah or Roger—he really should have his hearing tested. Although to be fair, his confusion was compounded by the fact that two other camels on the trek were named Robert and Rocket.

One of two long drinks the camels had in two days

Robyn’s leopard camel

You might remember that I was on Baloo, who nearly dumped me in a water trough in the first 15 minutes. But once we got past that scare, we were off with our food provisions, cooking gear, bedding, luggage and many litres of water securely tied on the rumps of eight camels.

Baloo had the dressiest ‘outfit’, Rajah/Roger’s gear looked like men’s pyjamas, Robyn’s camel looked the most interesting with his naturally-occuring leopard spots and Sherry’s camel kept calling for his wife, who had apparently run away recently.

In addition to camel quirks, it was an awkward and uncomfortable start until we asked if someone could help us put our feet into the makeshift stirrups. Luckily, the guides were quick to oblige. Even though the saddles were well-cushioned and quite comfy, none of us would have survived two days on camels with our legs dangling in midair.

Poor John’s camel with new riders. The young handler is sitting in front

Dinner time for camels

Musa was Baloo’s camel handler. He’s grown up in the desert and is a farmer and tour guide there. He said they usually grow two crops including one that provides feed for camels, but he said drought conditions for the last few years have hampered/killed most of the farming. I’m guessing tourism keeps him and his family going.

But Musa and the others are perfect for the tourist job. Whenever we arrived at a ‘destination’, they were straight into starting the cooking or setting up the overnight camp.

And they made excellent food, given the primitive circumstances. I wouldn’t want to have to build a fire and cook a half decent meal in a windy desert.

Making lunch

But the handler who impressed me most was a young boy who was aged no more than 10. A couple of the handlers seemed to think he was only seven. This young boy owned one of the camels, so was allowed to join us on the expedition and be its escort. No doubt, he should have been in school.

I never caught his name, so I’ll call him Mowgli. Mowgli was fearless when it came to camels. He had his own and everyone else’s under control. He also helped set up camp, care for the camels, gather wood for fires and serve meals. I wonder if true desert expeditions will last long enough to keep him happily employed for the rest of his life.

Off to get chai

Courtyard

Desert child

Village hut

One of our stops was at the handlers’ village. Based on the artwork painted on doors and the women’s dress and preference not to have their faces photographed (the men didn’t mind), we wondered if the ‘tribe’ was originally from Afghanistan. They didn’t claim any such link and thought they and their ancestors had always lived in the Thar Desert.

But back to the expedition. Aside from my near tumble, the jaunt went smoothly. Oh wait, there was a stretch where the fellows got the camels trotting and all I could wish for was a sports bra.

When we camped for the night, most of the camels and crew went home for the night—we hadn’t travelled far and probably in a circle. The fellows who stayed behind cooked and offered to fetch beers for us. How could we resist after a day spent in the hot sun.

Then it was time for bed. We’d brought our sleeping bags and the crew provided mattresses and coverlets. After a couple of beers, Robyn, Sherry and I managed to completely miss the pile of mattresses and instead spread coverlets on the ground. The sand was soft enough but the extra thickness of mattresses would have provided some good warmth in a chilly desert.

‘Red’ gets comfy on a mattress

Robyn scored some surprise extra warmth. In the middle of the night, someone tossed a mattress over the bottom half of her sleeping bag. In the morning, that’s where we found ‘Red’, the dog that had followed our entourage for most of the previous day.

Turns out Red—we gave her that name—didn’t belong to our fellows or their village. She’s a caravan groupie, following those who give her handouts and moving on to a new group when the current party disbands.

When we dismounted, Red trotted off quite happily. And we moved on for a night in a desert ‘resort’.

I get a kick out of the word ‘resort’ in India. This one promised luxury tents, hot showers, a buffet dinner featuring Rajasthani dishes, and a unique show of local dancing and music.

Rajasthani dancer

Dancer backbends to a cup

Twirling dancers

Oh my, the promises they make! The tents were large, a bit grubby and the canvas doors wouldn’t close. Toilet paper was not provided, but towels were. The water ran freely but never ran hot. Dinner came about 9pm (we were starving). And most of the show reminded us of one we had seen in Ranthambhore in 2013, except the costumes were much more elaborate.

I think we all would have been just as happy sleeping another night on the sand. Even Poor John had to admit that the trek was much, much better than the one he so hated in the Sahara Desert in Mali six years ago. But that’s another story.

Thar is the world’s most densely populated desert

About the Thar Desert

Also known as the Great Indian Desert or Marusthali (Land of the Dead), the Thar is the world’s 17th largest desert, and the most densely populated. It straddles India and Pakistan (about 85 per cent of it is in northwestern India) and has an average of 83 people per square kilometre. In India, it spreads over four states and covers 320,000 square kilometres.

We travelled into the Thar from Jaisalmer in the state of Rajasthan. I was surprised to learn that about 40 per cent of all Rajasthanis live in this desert.

Most of the desert is shifting dunes, and the high winds that occur just before the monsoon mean the landscape changes dramatically each year. Rainfall is scarce with no more than 20 inches a year and often as little as four.

Gathering water from a communal tank

Off to the communal tank for water

Gathering fruit

That said, there is a rich mix of vegetation, human settlement and animal life. Wells and tanks supply water, and the Indira Gandhi Canal brings irrigation to northwest Rajasthan. This allows locals to grow some crops and raise livestock. In fact, almost 50 per cent of India’s wool comes from this area.

There are also concerted efforts to grow more trees in the desert, especially Prosopis cineraria and Tecomella undulata, which are valued as all-round trees. Camels, goats and sheep can eat the leaves, flowers and pods. The wood can be used for construction and made into farming implements.

Common babbler

Red-vented bulbuls

Thar is also home to more than 110 species of birds, and almost 50 species of snakes and lizards, as well as varieties of antelope and deer. We hoped to see a desert cat or fox, but our wildlife sightings were limited to birds, a beetle and a couple of deer.

The landscapes reminded us a lot of deserts in Africa.