A little photo confession: I didn’t take this photograph, but this was pretty much the view I had from Mehrangarh Fort. Photo by Jyotirmoy Gupta via Unsplash. Thank you for capturing the view I couldn’t. 🤍
Has it ever happened to you that you visit a place expecting it to be known for one thing… only to never really find it?
That happened to me in July 2025, in Jodhpur, Rajasthan.
Now, I have to be honest—I wasn’t travelling to Jodhpur for just one reason. It was part of a larger trip with a list of places I wanted to visit. But if there was one thing I was particularly excited about, it was seeing the city filled with blue houses. I mean, Jodhpur is called India’s Blue City, right?
And truthfully, as childish as it sounds, I wanted exactly that. Endless blue streets, hundreds of pictures, and unnecessarily aesthetic photos for social media.
Maybe my expectations were the problem because, for some reason, I genuinely thought the entire city would be blue. Looking back, it sounds ridiculous, but in my head I thought, Well… that’s why it’s called the Blue City.
Imagine my disappointment when we entered the city and… there was barely any blue.
But can I tell you something interesting?
I found something that made me happier than finding the Blue City.
The city was wrapped in beautiful earthy, almost reddish sandstone. Buildings, bungalows, monuments—everything felt like they belonged to the land instead of standing on it. The best part? They weren’t painted that colour. The stone itself gave the city that warmth.
I remember sitting in an auto-rickshaw and blurting out,
“This city should be called the Earthy City, not the Blue City.”
Because honestly, every building looked like it belonged there.
Somewhere during that ride, my husband and I even started discussing how those thick sandstone walls probably helped keep the heat away. By not covering them with paint, they somehow felt more homely. The textured, matte finish of the stone was something I was unexpectedly starting to admire.
Then came the part that completely changed my perspective.
We reached Mehrangarh Fort.
The climb was exhausting. My calf muscles had officially filed a complaint, but we kept going.
And when we finally stood at the edge…
Guess what I saw?
The Blue City.
Turns out, Jodhpur really does look blue—from above.
Not every building.
Not every terrace.
But enough of them to understand why it earned that name.
Some rooftops were painted blue, some walls carried faded shades of blue, while a few houses stood out in brighter blues. Together, they created a city that wasn’t completely blue, but beautifully blue enough.
And honestly, it started making sense. The blue wasn’t just for aesthetics. Many homes use lime wash with blue pigment because it helps reflect heat and keep the houses cooler, just as the thick sandstone walls naturally protect against the desert sun.
So technically…
I did find the Blue City.
Just not in the way I had imagined.
But I still wanted to walk through streets lined with blue houses.
That’s when my husband casually mentioned that they do exist.
Then came the disclaimer.
“Don’t expect too much.”
Naturally…
I ignored the disclaimer and got excited anyway.
What happened next was a series of emotions: disbelief, denial, mild rage, hopelessness, defeat… and finally, acceptance.
If you type “Blue City” into Google Maps, it’ll take you to the area where you’re supposedly meant to find it.
Except…
We didn’t.
Instead, we found a handful of beautifully painted buildings and a lot of confused tourists.
At one point we realised a couple of foreigners were just as lost as we were, trying to find the Blue City.
Which, oddly enough, was comforting.
At least we weren’t the only ones wandering around like lost kids.
Eventually, a local noticed us looking thoroughly confused and pointed us towards a nearby lane with blue houses covered in murals.
Not exactly what we had imagined.
But somehow…
Better.
Most of the murals celebrated local life—men and women in traditional clothing, birds, trees, and women going about everyday household work. It felt familiar. It reminded me that sometimes the most beautiful art isn’t trying to impress you; it’s simply reflecting the people who live there.
And just like every trip eventually comes to an end…
So does this blog.
Writing this made me realise something.
I had spent so much time looking for one version of Jodhpur that I almost missed the one quietly standing in front of me.
I came here carrying expectations.
I left carrying wonder.
One visit can never do a city justice, but it was enough to tell me that there are far better stories waiting to be discovered.
P.S. I do have one confession.
Jodhpur made me fall completely in love with something I wasn’t expecting either.
No, it wasn’t another fort.
No, it wasn’t another blue lane.
It was a glass of Makhaniya Lassi.
If you’re curious why I’m still thinking about it, you can read all about it here.
And if these little observations from my travels make you smile, make you think, or simply make you stay till the very last line, I’d love for you to subscribe. 🤍
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