The good rally driver always checks the car before he leaves. And so this morning I noticed that the bag with washer fluid was empty. I filled it wisely, it worked. I tried again a little later, there was no more. Mystery. The chief mechanic gave himself a look: simple Watson, there is a hole. Problem of vulcanization solved, the last photo to Bundi palace of dreams and here we are on the road towards Menal and what Indian guides define as "temples complex". It is dedicated to Shiva, the destroyer god, to which we recommended, like people usually do, to the executioner before execution. The whole base is a chisel of elephants; then a wide strip with the stories - we think - of Shiva deeds in all sectors (including sexual reliefs recount of cooked and raw). Here are the other deities, here is the beautiful and cruel Parvati, often capable of assuming the form of Durga, another deity exterminator. With a little awe we took the road, stopping for a moment to photograph the cultivation of opium. No one can cultivate, on government license, more than one-twentieth of a hectare and can at best produce, for the same government who later will sale it to China, six kilos a year. Our hotel has flowered courtyards, marble pool, capitals and columns. That look just the missing ones of the temple of Shiva.
