Lost in the Not Quite Pink City

Lost in the adobe colored city!  We wander around for probably a half hour and are thoroughly lost.  We know the two attractions we’ve come to see are here somewhere, but where??  I spot a sign for an ‘English Language School’ – if anyone can help us find our way, it should be someone in here!  Two elderly Indians sitting in the lobby know enough English to go find the ‘teacher.’  She appears, trailing a group of about a dozen children, wide-eyed at the distraction from their lessons!   Lots of Hindi flying around, and the teacher tells us ‘He will take you.’ and points to one of the elderly Indians, an old man who looks like he can barely walk!  Teacher shoos the children back into the classroom and off we go.  

We might have been able to find it on our own, but I doubt it.  Three minutes later, and about a dozen turns and alleyways, our guide stops and points and, voila, there we are at the shah’s observatory.   LP describes is as ‘ . . . a bunch of weird sculpture/instruments for astronomical observations.’   It’s a bit of a tourist attraction and filled with tour groups – decent audio guide.  Could have taken a bye.

Last stop, the Zamana – what I’ve dubbed the women’s velvet prison.  The audio guide talks rather rhapsodically about all the wonderful things the women could do in here – ‘in here’ being the operative phrase.  They never got to go out.  In fact, the front door is set so that even when the door is opened, you can’t see outside and no one can see inside.   On two sides of the upper stores (it’s 5 stories tall) there are viewing ports onto the surrounding streets. 

I get this strange feeling standing where these women stood – or sat, since there are a number of ports fairly close to the ground and I’m sure there weren’t any midget wives – what must that life have been like?  Did they feel privileged to be in the raj’s harem?  Did they even think about the narrowness of their lives?  Were the women constantly plotting and scheming to ensure that their son was the heir?  I almost gag on the audio guide narrative describing the wonderful, exuberant celebrations here.  ‘the women could paint, play an instrument, play games’  – they just couldn’t go anywhere!! 

And this place is crowded – about a half dozen light-skinned tourists, the rest Indians (something we’re finding more and more). 

Spectacular view over the city from the upper story.

The sky is clouding over; it looks like rain.  Time to find a tuk tuk and head ‘home.’  Just in time – 5 seconds after we get in (after negotiating with three or four drivers) the skies open up.  Wait, this isn’t monsoon season – what’s going on??  No, it's not just rain, it's hail!! And the tuk tuk is open on the sides – the one day we brought neither ponchos nor an umbrella!  And it’s getting dark, fast.  After a couple of minutes, it’s obvious the driver either has no idea where our hotel is or he’s completely lost.  Yikes – it’s dark, it’s hailing, and we’re in a tuk tuk going who knows where.  Some photos from the wet back seat . . . (when in doubt, take pictures!)

After four stops to ask directions, the driver finally turns into a street we vaguely recognize . . . I will never take GPS for granted again!  Wonder if the Google Earth Mobile has even attempted these streets . . .