Chittaurgarh

My departure from Pushkar was necessarily abrupt. Some spare bicycle parts I'd ordered on the Internet were in jeopardy of being lost, owing to some outstanding import duty. And to complicate my life further, my Indian SIM card had stopped working the day before.
 
I rode over some hills into Ajmer, a mere 12 km away and sought the nearest Vodafone shop. There was no explanation for the death of my SIM, but I could apply for a new one if I had proof of an address, for which a hotel would suffice (so I was told). After reluctantly checking into a hotel, I was told that this was not in fact the case and I was going to have to get used to SIMlessness. Well, I was probably using the Internet too much anyway...

I walked Ajmer's streets by night, and found a cheap thali restaurant where 40 rupees got me as much as I could eat. Walking back to the hotel I passed a dozen or so kids huddled around a fire by the roadside in front of an abandoned building. I took a photo and then they came, demanding money. I walked around the corner and bought a multi-pack of biscuits and started to distribute them. The packets were ripped from my hands within seconds but there was then nothing I could do.

The next day I cycled towards Chittaurgarh, an uneventful ride on a national highway. I had ambitions of reaching Bhilwara that day, but after a hard day's riding I was stopped by a couple of kids on a motorcycle, and invited to stay at their family house. The elder of the two was named Sagarkhan, and was the only English speaker. Arriving at the house, I parked my bike and we took a jaunt on the motorcycle (riding in the local fashion, i.e., 3 of us sans helmets) and stopped in at an aunt's house, where we were fed. Returning to the house we were fed once again and I met the man of the house, who had 2 (or possibly 3) wives there. After watching some violent Indian action film, I passed the rest of the night in persistent insistence that I would not sell my mobile phone to my kind host, the young Sagarkhan.

The next day's continuation was marred only by the unexpected appearance of some nasty sunburn on my arms, which I was exposing for the first time since being in India - this was the first day I'd really started to find the heat unpleasant, although for the most part I stayed tolerably cool as long as I didn't stop cycling. After checking into a convenient and cheap hotel I cycled up to Chittaurgarh Fort, an enormous complex of temples and ruins overlooking the city and the largest fort in India. There were simply too many exquisite temples, towers and other monuments to take in and I had to be selective. As usual, I was transfixed by the playful monkeys, who've overcome their timidity around humans for the reward of the nuts which are sold near their play area.

The sun was setting as I descended via the long road back to the town, and for all my recent meditation I road-raged at a car who repeatedly cut me up; The Path Is Long!

To paraphrase Napoleon Bonaparte, 'a cyclist marches on their stomach'. And once again I found the cheapest (and spiciest) eats in town at a local thali house, and even drank the tap water.

And happily my stomach seemed to be functioning normally the next day!