In the morning, the ancient city of Jaisalmer glowed gold.

By the afternoon its sandstone Jain temples, libraries and balconies had a tawny, ginger tinge.

At sunset the famous Sonar Kila fort on Meru Hill had faded into a mellow yellow.

All the while, the late Mr Bissa’s beard, immortalised in brochures and on postcards and posters, remained as glossy and impressively black as ever.

Profuse facial hair made the late LN Bissa a rich and famous man. In Rajasthan, India’s largest state, a talented and ambitious moustache – if handled correctly – can be big business, leading to endorsement deals, personal appearances, lucrative modelling contracts, world travel, adulation and advertising work.

For many years, Laxminarayan Bissa was the ‘Marlboro Man’ of India. He dominated the world of semi-professional competitive moustache-growing, winning the coveted Mr Desert title for a record five years in a row before founding a tour company offering camel safaris into the Thar Desert and Sands of Sam.

He’s still the face of northwest India and his moustache is acknowledged as being invincible. It is every Rajasthani boy’s dream to grow up and be Mr Desert.

Mr Bissa’s son Aniket, who now runs Sahara Travels, will tell you a moustache is a complex symbol in India. No self-respecting man should be without one. It indicates ethnic grouping, regional provenance – even attitude.

Men take part in Mr Desert competition in Jaisalmer, India. Photo: Don Mammoser/Shutterstock.com

“If you wear your ’tache up it signifies honour. Down means surrender!” he says.

If you go on one of his ‘camel adventures’ and can hear over the Maand folk dancing and Gair dancing, Aniket will confirm the Golden City is named after a Rajput king and is the spiritual home of moustache showing, as well as the ancient Indian arts of speed turban tying and camel decoration.

Several moustache contests are held every year in Rajasthan. They attract huge crowds, but the Marushri, or Mr Desert, tournament is the most prestigious.

It is held in the Hindu month of Magh during the Jaisalmer Desert festival. This year it starts today and runs to February 3.

Every year, 30,000 spectators pack into the Shahid Poonam Singh Stadium to watch the part-beauty pageant, part-pentathlon.

Each contestant (usually limited to 10) competes over two days in six disciplines: mous-tache growing, turban tying, charisma/beauty, camel riding and camel decoration.

These skills are believed to express the qualities of the New Desert Man.

Sword swallowing and fire walking have recently been dropped from the contest on grounds of inadequate insurance cover. For aspiring Mr Deserts, Jaisalmer is a serious event for which they have been grooming themselves for years.

There are secrets of the trade. Being rich in essential moisturising polymers, camel dung supposedly keeps the shape and sheen of a competition moustache through several washes.

Looking for body and shine, as well as a moustache that projects the desired masculine virtues of chivalry, loyalty and independence, the woman judge gave the contestants a thorough and lengthy 360-degree inspection before awarding the coveted Karan Beel Moustache Trophy to a border forces security officer.

Like a moustache, the biggest turban is not necessarily the best. It is what you do with it and how you carry it off that counts.

Through his turban a man can show his true colours. Each group has its own way of tying one.

Muslims leave one end loose on their shoulders. Hindus leave the end hanging down. Colours indicate moods: orange is a happy; brown, blue and green are sad; red is worn by lovers.

In a blur of dyes and flailing cotton, a local civil servant set a new speed turban tying world record with a full wrap timed at 3.42 seconds.

A well-appointed camel, like a well-looked-after beard and a snazzy turban, is also a status symbol in Rajasthan.

Desert men are eager to display their virility by gaily caparisoning their camels.

They are dab hands with gorbandah beads and shells. It is a virility shortfall to have a beat-up, dirty camel.

Contrary to traditional belief, the camel is not the ship of the desert. It is the car of the desert.

Many Indians go cruising on their camel. In Rajasthan, you are largely what you sit on top of.

There are naff ways to decorate a camel, as well as cool. Furry dice are frowned upon.

A local hotel owner won this section – quite why was never explained.

While the track was prepared for the final competition – the two-furlong camel dash – the crowd was treated to a performance of an elephant gymnastic and acrobatic display team, which performed its own Red Arrow manoeuvres at ground level and some fairly low-speed formation lolloping.

This curtain-raiser over, the competitors were led into the saddling enclosure.

The jockeys mounted and lined up. The starter dropped his flag and, in an explosion of choking desert dust, they were off.

The crowd went mad, although no one knew the result because we couldn’t see a thing through all the dust.