During a three-month trip to India last year, gathering travel stories, I spent a week in Jaisalmer, a glorious fortress city perched on a remote hill on the edge of the Great Indian Desert in Rajasthan, nine hours by train from the nearest metropolis of Jodhpur. The place has stood for more than 800 years, a testament to the riches and skills of its present citizens' ancestors, its intricately carved sandstone buildings glowing golden in the sun.
The city's water had previously been collected manually from a reservoir lake. Now the much larger amount being pumped into the city is more than the open drains can handle. The resulting seepage into the foundations has rendered many structures unstable. Battered by unprecedented monsoons in 1993, more than 80 historic buildings trembled like houses of cards. Yet locals were ignoring their crumbling heritage, said a despondent architect, preferring an instant return from erecting concrete hotels or rebuilding on the cheap. Only by bringing Jaisalmer's dilemma under the international spotlight could the town be saved.
Back home, I wrote an article for New Scientist on how one of the world's most beautiful cities was falling apart ('Collapse of the golden city', Dec 17th '94). Then the John Dunn programme on Radio 2 invited me to talk about it, and a London-based architect, who had visited Jaisalmer ten years ago, contacted me to express his consternation. We really ought to do something, we said.
So I drew up a mailing list - from the Prince of Wales to the Chief Minister of Rajasthan - and launched the Jaisalmer in Jeopardy campaign, with the initial intention of raising international awareness. The campaign's running costs came from a peculiarly fitting source. My visit to Jaisalmer happened to coincide with the filming of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book in the magnificent fort of Jodhpur. I had been hired as an extra for the ballroom scene in which Mowgli gets pushed into the banqueting table by a pair of irate Bengal lancers. So, when the film opened in London, I persuaded the Walt Disney company to hold a special screening, at which I gathered donations for the Jaisalmer cause.
My letters stirred up a good deal of concern and interest. Both the Chief Minister and the Chief Secretary of Rajasthan wrote to say they welcomed the campaign and that a conservation plan was ready to be implemented, as and when resources were forthcoming. Given that a positive approach in India towards conserving Jaisalmer is a prerequisite for its survival, this was an encouraging response. The Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage also wrote to pledge its support, enclosing a long statement headed 'Jaisalmer in Jeopardy'. The Nehru Centre of the Indian high commission in London asked me to give a lecture which further spread the word.
The Prince of Wales's aide specialising in architecture and planning suggested people and organisations to contact, and brought Jaisalmer to the attention of the World Monuments Fund (WMF) in New York. It in turn has written to me to inquire about sending a WMF representative to Jaisalmer to consider it as a potential project for the near future.
It may be a long haul, but I feel that 'Jaisalmer in Jeopardy', like 'Venice in Peril', has acquired an identity and momentum of its own. And Jaisalmer has one big advantage. We are not fighting an endless war, but a contained battle, and the finances - millions rather than tens of hundreds of millions - are attainable. Perhaps one individual can make a difference.
If you can help in any way, please contact Jaisalmer in Jeopardy, c/o Sue Carpenter, 20E Redcliffe Gardens, London SW10 9EF (tel 0171 351 5985).
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