Watch out for cows, even in the heart of the souvenir district

JAISALMER, India — "Mind the cows," Little Raj warns as he leads us past the souvenir stalls inside the Jaisalmer fort to the home that belonged to his great grandfather.

Just then, one turns its brown-and-white head in my direction and knocks me on the shoulder.

Cows wander all around town, and whether you're driving or walking, it's your responsibility, not theirs, to get out of the way.

Little Raj and his family are among the 5,000 who still live inside Jaisalmer's hilltop fortress, a giant sandcastle sitting on a hill 250 feet above town.

Built 850 years ago by a family of wealthy maharajahs, everything is carved out of golden sandstone. There are mansions (havelis) with intricate filigree details that look like they were carved from wood; a group of temples and a former palace, now a museum.

Om Vyas, an elementary school teacher and Little Raj's father, opened the Hotel Shree Nanth Palace 30 years ago in the home where he was born, a 400-year-old haveli owned by his grandfather, the prime minister to Jaisalmer's ruling family in the 1800s.

Nine family members live downstairs. Upstairs, are four guest rooms, all carved out of the original sandstone, with stone floors and pillars, and new marble bathrooms.

Tourism is enjoying a revival here after collapsing when India went to war with Pakistan. But increased water consumption has put stress on the drainage system and is endangering the old buildings built on foundations of clay, rock and sand.

Thirty years ago, says Vyas, "We didn't even have a bathroom in the house. We had to send the people next door." Now all his guest rooms have private bathrooms.

The fort was added to the "World Monuments Watch List of 100 Most Endangered Sites in the World," in 1996, and has qualified for restoration grants.

In the meantime, some have suggested that tourists stay outside the fort, an idea that angers long-time residents such as Vyas, but at least one hotel, the Shahi Palace where I'm staying, has relocated to a new building in town.

'Namaste! Spend your money here!'

Walking through the old fort's maze-like alleys should be pleasant, and early in the morning or late at night, it can be.

But like so many towns in Europe, medieval Jaisalmer has been turned into a giant souvenir shop.

Every building houses shops selling the same scarves and books made of camel leather. Much of the beautiful sandstone is covered with signs advertising Internet and CD burning, and the touts are relentless and annoying with their fake friendliness.

"Namaste. Spend your money here," I heard as I walked with Little Raj.

"Hello, where are you from? Haven't I seen you before?"

A more authentic 21st century Jaisalmer exists outside the fort in the streets around several fine havelis that have been preserved and restored as museums.

Wandering those back alleys, I watched as a woman dressed in bright red robes came out of her house and emptied a green towel filled with grain on the sidewalk for her calf.

Local life goes on all around our hotel. Sitting on our terrace for dinner the other evening, we listened to chanting from a Hindu temple.

I watched a man on a rooftop across the street doing yoga one morning and the man next door out in the afternoons with his two camels.

Goats and pigs wander the neighborhood, and of course, there are plenty of cows.