A NEW HOME

We arrive at Dundlod in the dark. We drive through the huge arched gates in the fortress’ walls and climb down from the bus into the hot night air of an external courtyard. Through another internal archway and corridor decorated with large decorated horse statues, and across a large lawn, we are met with much pomp and circumstance. A heavy drum is rhythmically struck and finger cymbals ping. Torches are lit on either side of a grand outside staircase. On either side are two mounted and fully decorated horsemen astride gorgeous, bedecked Marwaris. At the top of the stairs stand regal Bonnie, much more the prince here than he was out at camp. Attendants wave fans on either side of him. We are beckoned up the stairs where we are presented with flower garlands over our heads, and Puja blessings between our brows. It is all so opulent-seeming and grand it takes our breath away, as well as our grumpy moods. We are shown the regal waiting chambers of the ancestral home with intricate furnishings, archways, delicate paintings and art, and diaphanous draperies. The mezzanine level of arched portals is the “Ladies Gallery” where young women can spy on proceedings, and potential suitors, below while remaining chastely hidden. It is an ornate, museum of a room.

We are led through another external corridor to a smaller courtyard where a fire pit blazes, and THE BAR IS OPEN. We descend upon the bar like vampires. Two rolly, polly, outrageously frisky black Labrador puppies tumble over each other for our attention, and we tumble over one another to try to get their attention as well. We are led to our rooms to change and come back down for dinner. It is a bit of a shock to be indoors. My room is simple and large, in a separate building from most of the others, with a huge bathroom and a toilet that won’t flush, but all is well.

Dinner seems like manna from heaven, with more drinks, and we all drift away exhausted to sleep on thin mattresses amid walls not made of wet canvas.