Cool Hotels. Kim Inglis
pipe pierced the night air, and a drummer struck up a traditional welcome song. A tall Rajput, dressed in white with an orange turban, the end of which fluttered down his back like a lick of fire, placed the tilak on each guest's forehead and murmured a greeting. The group was ushered onward and upward—to cocktails, entertainment, dancing and dinner.
Such welcomes can't have been that different a hundred years ago at Samode Palace, I reflected. When the rawal sahib (the hereditary title of the owner) had to receive an important delegation, he would have waited in his red-and-gold reception room, and the same sort of ritual would have occurred outside. Then the guests would have been ushered into his presence; courtesies would have been exchanged, refreshments offered, nautch dances danced, business discussed. The only difference would have been that the ladies wouldn't have accompanied the men; they'd have been secreted up to the zenana above the Durbar Hall where frescoed walls, slatted windows and curtains would have concealed their presence from the men. They would have been able to watch proceedings below; but nobody would have caught a glimpse of them.
"Receptions in the past would have been much the same," concurred Lalit Singh Sisodia, the general manager of sister hotel in Jaipur, Samode Haveli. "Except there would have been more people. All the local people would have joined the procession, and there would have been men on horseback, and camels—maybe even elephants." He sat back and sighed theatrically. "Still, we can't have elephants nowadays, and by doing these gala evenings, we are keeping traditions alive." Indeed they are. There's a global fascination with this particular era of Indian history that spans generations. The BBC's adaptation of The Far Pavilions was filmed at Samode in the 1980s, and proved immensely popular. Partly because of this appeal and partly because much of the palace had been restored for the cameras, the owners decided to open the palace to tourists. Thus the future of their family seat was secured.
Hari Singh Karigar, a master painter of Rajasthani miniatures, was roped in to help with the restoration work on the palace frescoes. He lives in a richly decorated house in the village, and his grandson, Chantush, has a shop in Samode's outer courtyard. Chantush explained how his family of painters (six generations of them) worked on the frescoes in the Durbar Hall, the zenana and the Sultan Mahal, the private chambers of the family. The latter is particularly noteworthy, with blue-and-silver low-level seating, blue-toned scenes of Indian mythology, flora and fauna, and exquisite mirror work. According to Chantush, only natural paints are used; the family create these themselves by grinding rocks from the surrounding mountains with the gum of certain trees to produce the brilliant peacock blues and greens, and royal reds and golds.
Not only were the frescoes repaired, much work was also done on the basic fabric of the building. After all, it is over 450 years old. Built by Rawal Bairi Sal, finance minister to the founder of Jaipur, Raja Jai Singh II, Samode Palace is a classic example of Rajput-Mughal architecture, with its Naples yellow walls and white trim, arches, kiosks and parapets. Both public and private areas are arranged around a series of courtyards on different levels. A relatively recent addition in the forecourt of the Durbar Hall is a swimming pool and Ayurvedic health center and gym. Sensibly enough, the pool is soft-contoured and somewhat old-fashioned in style—a veritable marble-and-mosaic pleasure pool, surrounded by loungers and set in a leafy, walled garden. Slipping into its milky cerulean water after a camel trek in the hills is immensely soothing.
And one thing is certain: the welcome is assured. Whether you get the beefed-up Rajasthani reception, or a simple dignified salute, you'll be the recipient of time-honored Rajput hospitality. At Samode Palace, the glorious past is a constant present.
Samode Haveli, Gangapole, Jaipur 302 002, Rajasthan, India
telefax: +91 141 263 2407/1942/1068/0943 fax: +91 141 263 1397/2370
email: [email protected]
Rajvilas Jaipur, India
I notice that the temple doors are open, and glimpse a flash of white inside. The priest has come—as he does each morning and evening of every year. I cross the bridge, remove my shoes and enter the sanctum with head bowed. We exchange greetings, then he points out the Ganesh statue, the central Parvati one, Brahma on the left and his nandi in front. At the center is the Shiva lingum. I lower my head to receive his blessing, and I offer the shrine some rose petals, then withdraw to the sound of the priest singing: "Ommm, Shiwaaa, ommm..." It's curiously calming—he has a tranquilizing voice.
In front of me, the sun is setting and the sky has taken on the tone of light biscuit; at this time of day the pink in the sandstone bridge becomes more pronounced. The water lilies are tucking in their petals; they're going to bed. The priest and I smile shyly at each other and together we look at the sky. The fortress on one side is silhouetted against the evening sky, and a chattri, or open Rajasthani pavilion, rises in front of me. Time is suspended—momentarily.
I could be in any temple in Rajasthan, right? Wrong. I'm at the center of Mr PRS Oberoi's dream resort, the much lauded Rajvilas which opened in 1998. The fort houses the reception and public rooms; the chattri overlooks the swimming pool and spa. We are standing amongst 32 acres (13 hectares) of landscaped garden, a green oasis within a sandy, dry desert. At the center of it all is the 250-year-old temple, and the priest and I viewing the evening sky.
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