As I mentioned in my last entry, after our day at Brijghat we spent the night at a place called The Fort Unchagaon in the town by the same name. A place that is distinguished by the fact that it is not on any map and in fact is a one-hour drive from any place that is on a map. The hotel has a very distinct personality which, in spite of all the artefacts being post-partition, makes if feel very British Raj circa 1930 or so. I can imagine Brits in pith helmets coming through the arched gate that spans the driveway, with big game they’ve bagged in tow behind. The antlers and tiger heads on the walls and the life-size stuffed tiger complete with bleeding deer kill on display in the lounge enhance this image.
Our evening here at Fort Unchagaon has been pleasant if unremarkable. The service is excellent and the food good and plentiful as ever. Our major event really was our walk through the town and the local market. The market stretches for about 100 metres along the narrow road that forms the high 
street for the town. Here, shoppers compete with bicycles, trucks and busses for space on a single lane of tarmac with hawkers selling vegetables, spices, hardware and clothing sitting right next to the road. We saw one guy selling some kind of ointment that was apparently the product of scorpions, live specimens of which he would take from a small metal pot and let crawl along his hand while poking them with a stick. Whatever the extracted material was, when he dabbed it on the cheeks of people standing nearby and gawking at his deadly arachnids, they would tear-up and wrinkle their faces as if it was quite unpleasant, I didn’t see anyone buying.
By the time we were half way back to the fort, we had picked up at least a dozen kids who were following us like we were something special. As this place is pretty far off the beaten track, not on any map and, as I mentioned previously, not in the Lonely Planet guide, I would guess they don’t get that many white people back here especially ones as white as me. Actually, I think it’s Mrs. WMG who attracts
all the attention for reasons that I will speculate on some other time, but was reminded today of the time she was chatting to a kid in Jodphur when he reached right out and squeezed her boobs. In any event, it is a real trip to make a stir when you walk through a busy town market, with every head on the street turning to watch you pass and so many people coming up to chat or just shake your hand. I can see why famous people love this (while pretending they just want their privacy).
The last item I will mention here is something I quite frankly hesitated to add because I know my mom reads this blog. So mom, please just stop reading, close your browser and step away from the Macintosh until the next entry. Go on, I mean it.
OK, so, I’m sitting in the office here at this hotel while Mrs. WMG is filling out the paperwork for our stay. There were so many documents to complete I had plenty of time to look around at the hunting parties pictured riding elephants, the antique transom and the Nazi memorabilia. I then noticed a thing that I took to be a sculpture (later confirmed as such by my lovely wife) on the bookshelf just to the left of Mrs. G. I looked at it once
, then twice trying to figure out what the heck it was. I knew that Tracy hadn’t noticed it so I decided I had better take a picture or she would never believe my explanation. I will let the reader make his or her own judgement on the sculpture by including the picture at a sufficient resolution so that you can enlarge it and rate its artistic merit for yourself (sorry, it’s a little out of focus). What is up with this!? Who puts a sculpture like this in their office!? If you have an alternative explanation to mine, please do leave me a comment.
More photos of the weekend here.
