After our visit to the Taj Mahal, we headed to Udaipur via overnight train. (We decided to skip Jaisalmer, the first stop for many on the Rajasthan loop, based on recommendations from several friends). Udaipur is an architecturally stunning city, beautiful from afar; but, like so much of India, it all falls apart up close. Covered in rotting garbage, spit, and feces, the streets and buildings are nice to look at from a safe distance, like one of the many rooftop terraces in town, but it is a mess at street level.
No sooner had we arrived in Udaipur than I stepped in a massive pile of fresh cow dung. I appreciate that cows are sacred and all, but employing people to clean up their dung would be a fantastic initiative on the part of the Indian government. Creates jobs and improves public health and sanitation.
A few hours later, more cow dung was splattered all over my pants.
A few more hours and I was vomiting up my breakfast. And seemingly everything else I have consumed in the last few weeks.
My body spent the next week violently purging itself, and my entire being was reduced to only two thoughts, looping on repeat through my brain, day in and day out: I want to go home. I want my mom.
Max seemed to enjoy the sites of Udaipur, Ranakpur, and the surrounding countryside. They looked pretty in his photos. But for me, things were not going well.