A motorcycle journey through India's most colorful state, Rajasthan, is like an enchanting journey back in time to an oriental adventure. Here camel caravans cross the country road, Bengal tigers hunt in the jungle in the first rays of daylight, and nomadic and tribal people walk along the country road, dressed in colorful robes.

A bloated camel with its nose in the cloud comes trotting slowly down a small tarmac road along a field of yellow mustard flowers. The aristocratic animal doesn't seem bothered by being harnessed to a two-wheeled black rubber-tyred tractor, on which sits a black-haired camel driver wearing white dothies, Indian trousers, and with a gray shawl wrapped around his shoulders. In his left hand, the camel driver holds a rope that is connected to the camel's nose rings and acts as a rein. Or brake, one is tempted to say in this context. In the right hand, between the index and ring fingers, dangles a branch from a willow tree, which with a quick flick in the air acts as a throttle for this camel taxa.

On the shed behind the camel driver sit two turbaned men, lazily turning their heads at the sight of our black Royal Enfield motorcycles parked on the side of the road. Behind the camel driver, who can probably best be described as a kind of local taxi driver, sit seven Indian women, dressed in traditional clothes. Green, orange, red, yellow and blue colors light up the landscape, and the brightly colored textiles are embroidered with tiny mirrors that reflect the warm rays of the afternoon sun. We frantically fumble for our cameras and click away as this wondrous sight continues down the highway.

King for a day

We are a group of motorcyclists traveling through the northwest corner of India. Rajasthan is the name of this largest state of India. The name means "Land of Kings", and this must be taken quite literally, for the region is sprinkled with opulent palaces that belonged to the old Maharajas, and still inhabited old fortress towns from the 13th century, surrounded by thick defensive walls.

In several places, these old palaces have been converted into hotels with modern facilities such as hot water, swimming pool, air conditioning and wireless internet. So here you can live in opulent surroundings like a real Maharaja, which, in these parts, is the term for an Indian prince. The palaces are furnished with antique furniture, decorated walls and bathrooms with marble from floor to ceiling, and here you feel like a king for a day.

Where camel caravans cross the country road

Along the country roads in India, which is a colossally large country with great diversity, you experience many funny and bizarre phenomena, and in this northern part of India it is especially the camels that dominate the street scene. As a motorcyclist, you have to quickly learn to drive in and out between "scrap camels" that haul old car wrecks off to the wrecker and "camel taxis" that transport the villagers to and from the market with vegetables, spices and other habengut. Everywhere you can hear the furious roar of the camels or their deafening cries as they lie down and chew cud on the roadside or in the central terraces. The camels' fur is trimmed into neat patterns, and carpets are woven from the wool and sold in the local bazaars. Like everywhere else in the world, it is important to keep your eyes focused on the road when you are speeding away on your motorcycle, which can be

difficult when painted elephants, gazelles with twisted horns, herds of wild rhesus monkeys, galloping horses, sacred cows, angry dogs, and black pigs with shrill, bristling bristles linger by the roadside or mingle with the traffic. We rush off and experience all of this, and when we pause, we quickly agree that it feels like riding a motorcycle through a circus performance or a zoo.

Visiting the rat temple

We pull into a dusty parking lot at a Hindu temple called Karni Matta. We remove our shoes at the entrance, which is good practice everywhere in Asia's many holy places, but this place stands out from other shrines on this side of the earth, for we have not entered the sacred precincts many meters before the sound of a squeal from one of the tour's female participants as a grey-black rat darts across her bare feet. On the floor in front of us we see not just one, two or three rats, but a whole army of rats running back and forth across the floor.

Further inside the temple it tapers, and now the floor looks like a large carpet of living rats. Our guide tells us that here in the "Rat Temple", as Karni Matta is also called, the locals believe that their ancestors are reborn as rats, and therefore these animals are considered sacred. Large dishes of milk and cream are put out for the rats daily, and they are fed bread and cake – and not just kitchen waste. No, here the rats get the very best feed you can find! We see several Indian families entering the temple with bags of goodies and squatting while they wait for the rats to come and eat off their hands. Of all the many thousands of temples that exist in India, the rat temple must be said to be the most remarkable.

Jaisalmer – a living museum from the 13th century

After this bizarre experience, the trip goes south on wide asphalted roads, largely without any notable traffic, through villages with mud-roofed houses, before late in the afternoon we arrive at the city of Jaisalmer, which is like a living museum from the 13th century. In the center stands a defensive wall with yellow sandstone walls, and behind these Indian families live side by side with old temples that exude mystery, atmospheric market places where all kinds of trinkets are offered and tea shops where the sweet Indian sugar tea, masala chai, can be taken at ease in surroundings where time seems to have stood still for centuries.

Looking for the Bengal Tiger

The trip heads east, where we make a stop at Ranthamboure National Park, home to the infamous Bengal tiger. We replace the motorbikes with an open jeep and drive through the jungle. Late in the afternoon, we manage to spot a wild male tiger, which we get to see prowling around a clearing before he disappears into the jungle and up a hillside. From here, the trip continues to the city of Bharatpur, where we park our motorbikes and continue to see the famous monument, the Taj Mahal, before flying back to Denmark.