Jaipur

For me, Jaipur was a dreamy romantic city. The older parts reminded me a strange way of Paris; decorated pink facades, wide boulevards, iron work separating the traffic lanes, large open roundabouts. Sure, a dusty, begrimed, Indian Paris, but it still had the same romance.

I also seemed to meet a lot of French people - The man from Mauritious, my neighbours were from Paris and two groups of people I met at different tourist spots.

The Raja's of Jaipure were consummate Politicians as well as fearsome warriors. They survived and thrived in the Moghul empire, and their city reflects this mixed heritage.

The older, Amber Fort took me away to almost Persian type Palaces, like one of Rumi's meditations. Turbanned Raja's sitting on embroidered cushions, holding court, whilst bejewelled queens looked through carved scroll work, sipping sherbet. Hareems and Gardens flourished in the labyrinthine palace. A place of music, dance, sumptuous feasts, surrounded by a fortifications sprawling round the hills like a minature wall of China.

In the eighteenth century, to celebrate a victory agains Agra, the ruler built the Pink City, and the Palace inside. These are much better preserved, and the heritage is everywhere to see. The maelstrom of politics when the British and the French met the fading Moghuls and the ever present Raja's must have been fascinating. The Scholar kings though deftly steered the state through this though, and the sciences and modern state emerged after partition. Although no longer absolute rulers, the Royal Family still play an important part, serving in the Government and Army with distinction.

The hotel I stayed in, Karni Niwas, seemed part of this dream as well. An interlocking maze of courtyards, levels, balconies, courtyards, rooftops and gardens. Peaceful and serene.

So I dreamed in Jaipur. I could easily come back here and dream again.