Even though the tiger on the plush blanket in the hotel remained the only one, I enjoyed the safari (on an open truck) through Ranthambore National Park. Not so much because of the deer, but because of the high limestone rocks. Not so great afterwards was the two-hour ride on the packed train: standing wedged in the crowd next to the latrine.
In this region, matching the mustard fields blooming to the horizon, neon yellow turbans seem to be en vogue.