He took his own drinking water from India to England in 1902

THE MOST DISAPPOINTING tourist ‘attraction’ in Jaipur, is the City Palace. After more than 3 weeks travelling in Rajasthan, I can safely say that this royal palace is the least interesting place we have visited. Architecturally, it lacks the finesse seen in other royal palaces. In addition it is far less interesting historically.

Not wishing to seem too negative about the place, I will mention one item that did catch my attention. It is a huge silver vessel, a jar: possibly the largest silver jar that has ever been made. It and several others were made to carry water from the Ganges to England. The water was for the use of Maharaja Sawai Madho Singh II during his visit to England to attend the coronation of King Edward VII in 1902. Each of the jars could carry about 400 gallons of water.

While this is a fascinating exhibit, I do not believe that the palace is worth visiting. Its admission fees are exorbitant by local standards: minimum of £10 for non-Indians and minimum of £3 for Indians. Additional charges are levied to see certain exhibits within the palace compound. These prices must be compared with the admission fees for the palace’s far more beautiful and much more fascinating neighbour, the Jantar Mantar (non-Indians pay £2, and Indians pay 50 pence).

Ignorance is bliss

DURING MY UNDERGRADUATE student days in the very early 1970s, a good friend, who is now my wife, suggested that a group of us should visit one of the then very few Japanese restaurants in London. The one we chose was in St Christopher’s Place, close to Oxford Street.

We decided to order sashimi, raw fish. I chose to have a plate of tuna sashimi. I had never eaten raw fish before, but after my first bite I decided this was a very superior way of serving fish. The sashimi was more than delicious. I would have loved much more than the five neatly cut pieces of tuna, which was the portion size. However, I could not afford that luxury.

The five bite sized pieces of tuna cost £7. And, in the early 1970s that sum could pay for a lot of food or other goods. For example, a Penguin paperback book cost 12.5 or 17.5 pence and a gallon (4.5 litres) of petrol was well under £1.

I was left hungry after our visit to the Japanese restaurant, and had to assuage my appetite at a fast food outlet.

Today, the price of Japanese food in London has dropped relative to what it was almost 50 years ago. Outlets like Itsu can provide a satisfying Japanese set meal for little more than £7. Better quality Japanese restaurants are justifiably more expensive, but not usually way out of reach, as was my plate of sashimi in St Christopher’s Place.

We used to visit a lovely Japanese restaurant in Holland Park side street. It was run by an elderly couple from Japan. It closed when they retired. For a year or two, we did not eat Japanese food in London.

One Saturday evening, we were watching a play at the National Theatre. It was not satisfactory. So, we walked out after the first act. We decided to drive to Ali Baba, an Egyptian eatery near Baker Street.

On the way, I thought that if we were to see a Japanese restaurant, we would stop and eat there. I stopped the car outside a Japanese restaurant near Bloomsbury and suggested to my wife that we ate there. She agreed and we entered the small eatery.

We looked at the menu and then looked at each other across the table. By chance, we had walked into a very (no kidding) expensive place. We were on the point of walking out when I said to my wife:
“Let’s eat here. I will enjoy it if I don’t see the bill. You check it, and I will hand over the card.”
Ignorance is bliss, and so was the food.

Pictures taken at Harima restaurant in Bangalore, India