The journey was long and arduous, which consisted of a rickshaw to the little boat ferry, crossing on the boat, a rickshaw to Hospet train station, an overnight train of 10 hours to Bangalore city train station,
Thoughts of an incident I'd attended at work entered my mind. A cabbie crashed his car taking a gentleman to Heathrow airport, killing himself and seriously injuring the passenger who's luggage was strewn all over the grass verge. There's no stimulant quite like the one of impending doom. I was now wide awake creating conversation with the Bengalaru cabbie, if I couldn't think of something to say I'd do loud, noisy, pretend coughs to keep his attention. We arrived at the airport safe n sound, unless I'm actually dead and writing this from the spirit world.
It took us just shy of 24 hours in total to reach our final destination of this part of our journey, Varanasi, one of the most religious cities on earth.
After dropping off our bags the hotel supplied us a free guide, Ajay who took us out on our first evening to have a brief walk along the ghats (river front steps that lead to the Ganges) as we were shattered. Free, but he liked telling us how much he was paid per month, so we think a donation is kind of expected.
Perhaps he was tired of us westerners, or me and Allison just rubbed him up the wrong way. He'd just walk off in front paying us no attention along the busy, crazy roads and expect us to tuck in and tag along at his pace. We weren't bothered about the usual temple tour, we were more interested in the real Varanasi, the atmosphere, the people, the craziness and to somehow understand it. But understanding this place would take more than a days tour anyway.
We wanted to pay a visit to the Vishwanatha temple (Golden temple) but he was not keen to take us there so arranged for a friend to instead.
We managed to get into the temple after showing the tourist police our passports and claiming we were Hindu's, you have to be to gain entrance. I'm still flogging myself now from this deception. Although I did feel that practising yoga does enable you to say that you are studying a kind of Hindu philosophy, well at least there are some similarities. It was a strange experience, made all the weirder because of the initial deceit, "Ouch!" that hurt, as the flogging continues, but religion is built on forgiveness is it not?
I then wanted to take charge as he was going to slow for me, "out the way, let me take over". Man that oar he was holding was shit, the one I had been using was so much better. I kept spinning the boat in the same direction as before and couldn't use my left hand oar properly. After a few minutes my grip went and I was spinning out of control, I gave up, giving the captain full control of his boat back.
It was a nice and serene trip considering the intensity of some of the stuff that goes on.
The Hindu's deal with death a lot differently than us westerners. It's on show in full view, not hidden in nursing homes or retirement homes, you can see it. Bodies line up on the steps of Manikarnika ghat, bonfires blaze away as they burn the dead to give them moksha (release from the cycle of death and rebirth).
Today, night train to Agra, the Taj Mahal is waiting!
Allison on the overnight train
a taxi to Bangalore airport, a plane to Varanasi and finally a taxi to Hotel Ganesha.
The taxi drive from Bangalore city railway station to Bangalore airport was of significance to me. The first western type of motorway we've seen since leaving home. It was in the early hours of Thursday morning, approximately 4 am and the driver had coaxed us into his cab and we were on our way at a probably inflated price of 1000 rupees, who were we to argue at this hour and feeling that tired. We were comfortably heading along the motorway and I briefly looked across the lanes to another taxi heading in the same direction, the driver looked like he could barely keep his eyes open, I thought to myself, thank God I'm not that passenger, I kept looking back to see if he'd remained awake, I then turned round and glimpsed the eyes of our driver in the rear view mirror. He was going boss eyed, his eyes were half closed and he was straining to keep them open.
It took us just shy of 24 hours in total to reach our final destination of this part of our journey, Varanasi, one of the most religious cities on earth.
After dropping off our bags the hotel supplied us a free guide, Ajay who took us out on our first evening to have a brief walk along the ghats (river front steps that lead to the Ganges) as we were shattered. Free, but he liked telling us how much he was paid per month, so we think a donation is kind of expected.
The Ghats
On this our first introduction to Varanasi we were hit by an explosion to the senses. Sound, sight and smell are all attacked from every angle. This may have been heightened due to the fact we'd been travelling for nearly 24 hours so were greatly sleep deprived which amplified every bit of information sent to our sensory nervous system.
On a bicycle rickshaw ride
The next day we were again met by our free guide Ajay, he'd had incredible reviews on tripadvisor but sadly me and Allison felt no connection with him. There was something lacking, and it wasn't just his skinny, scrawny self, something in his demeanour.
We wanted to pay a visit to the Vishwanatha temple (Golden temple) but he was not keen to take us there so arranged for a friend to instead.
We managed to get into the temple after showing the tourist police our passports and claiming we were Hindu's, you have to be to gain entrance. I'm still flogging myself now from this deception. Although I did feel that practising yoga does enable you to say that you are studying a kind of Hindu philosophy, well at least there are some similarities. It was a strange experience, made all the weirder because of the initial deceit, "Ouch!" that hurt, as the flogging continues, but religion is built on forgiveness is it not?
We bumped into the English guy outside the Golden temple, and again later by the Ganges with his two friends
That evening we took a boat trip along the Ganges to take in some of the sights on the ghats, I was relieved that Ajay was not coming and it was only the driver of the boat but then he did not speak any English so we had no idea what was going on, Ajay come back!
I was desperate to have a go at rowing so using my signing skills, basically doing some air rowing, I wangled my way next to El Capitan
I was impressed with myself as I had to keep stopping as the boat would start to spin heavily in his direction. I'd wait for him to straighten it and then continue, but my power was just too great for this little Indian man.
He may be little but he was good!
The Hindu's deal with death a lot differently than us westerners. It's on show in full view, not hidden in nursing homes or retirement homes, you can see it. Bodies line up on the steps of Manikarnika ghat, bonfires blaze away as they burn the dead to give them moksha (release from the cycle of death and rebirth).
Photos are understandably frowned upon but I couldn't help myself, bodies align the steps on the right hand side of Manikarnika ghat
We turned back and sat on the boat at Dashashwamedh ghat watching the aarti ritual, a nightly worship to Shiva, the river Ganges and the whole universe.
Priests carrying out the ritual
The river Ganges itself, here in Varanasi is incredibly sacred but also extremely polluted. Faeces, dead bodies, highly toxic chemicals from upstream factories all add to the pollution. Does this matter? To us, yes it does matter, to Hindu's, no it doesn't. They bathe, swim, brush their teeth, wash their clothes and even drink this holiest of holy water. Again their immune systems must be made of more hardier stuff than ours.
The next night I returned to Manikarnika ghat by foot to try and make sense of all the open cremations that go on. Allison had become ill and was in no way able to get out of bed and face the outside, so she holed up in our sanctuary of the hotel room, so I wandered along the ghats alone.
I had read reviews about the ghat, saying that there are a lot of touts in the area hustling for tourists to buy wood to help burn the dead. I had pre-empted how it might all be, quite an intense, stressful experience.
It wasn't! It was actually quite the opposite, calming, respectful, serene, with no hassle whatsoever. They would bring a covered body down the steps on a wooden stretcher whilst chanting. They would place the body on top of an unlit pile of wood. Blessing the body they would then light the fire from underneath, the body would burn and turn to ash. Very open and far from my preconceived ideas.
The intensity of this place has not diminished from that first evening we arrived, maybe after an extended period here you would get more numbed to how foreign it feels. The dirt, the shit, the piss, the noise, the serenity, the touts, the genuine people, the smell, the poverty, the money and the intense spirituality. This place makes absolutely no sense whatsoever to us, We can't comprehend it. It's a contradiction, It's just everything is so different from what we have come to know. Our clean house, our creature comforts, the bubble in which we live in. This place is like a heavyweight punch in the face "have that, now be on your way"! We don't want it to beat us, We want to understand it but can't seem to fathom how mad it all is. Would we ever come back, never say never.
Bathing
Bathing and doing their laundry, it's left to dry on the ghats where dirt and faeces are aplenty
A young girl quenching her thirst, it's incredible
The next night I returned to Manikarnika ghat by foot to try and make sense of all the open cremations that go on. Allison had become ill and was in no way able to get out of bed and face the outside, so she holed up in our sanctuary of the hotel room, so I wandered along the ghats alone.
I had read reviews about the ghat, saying that there are a lot of touts in the area hustling for tourists to buy wood to help burn the dead. I had pre-empted how it might all be, quite an intense, stressful experience.
It wasn't! It was actually quite the opposite, calming, respectful, serene, with no hassle whatsoever. They would bring a covered body down the steps on a wooden stretcher whilst chanting. They would place the body on top of an unlit pile of wood. Blessing the body they would then light the fire from underneath, the body would burn and turn to ash. Very open and far from my preconceived ideas.
A man with his monkey
A character of Varanasi
The man you can barely see with white powder on his body is an Aghori, a sect of the Hindu religion. Many Hindu's practise the right way to reach God, the Aghori practise 'the left way', opposite to what others do. They eat animal faeces, drink urine, eat dead humans, practice necrophilia, smoke marijuana, drink alcohol, practise black magic, drink from human skulls. They believe that doing these things allows them to reach God quicker than if you follow the right way. They have a very interesting philosophy and are a very interesting group of people, perhaps I would bypass having a beer with one of these dudes though.
Ready to join the band
On our last day we again headed to Manikarnika ghat (cremation ghat), Allison needed to take a closer look for herself, now she was feeling a lot better. She found it strange that the cremations are so open for everyone to see.
Like me but even more so she found the Ganges overly filthy and was unable to comprehend the extreme dirt and smell of the place.
After having a nice meal at Aum cafe we step outside
A contradiction, a Mc Donalds in Varanasi, the furthest away from the western world in terms of lifestyle that we've ever been! Beef anyone? No way, as the cow is sacred here.
The intensity of this place has not diminished from that first evening we arrived, maybe after an extended period here you would get more numbed to how foreign it feels. The dirt, the shit, the piss, the noise, the serenity, the touts, the genuine people, the smell, the poverty, the money and the intense spirituality. This place makes absolutely no sense whatsoever to us, We can't comprehend it. It's a contradiction, It's just everything is so different from what we have come to know. Our clean house, our creature comforts, the bubble in which we live in. This place is like a heavyweight punch in the face "have that, now be on your way"! We don't want it to beat us, We want to understand it but can't seem to fathom how mad it all is. Would we ever come back, never say never.
Cows just freely roam the streets
Sadly there are loads of mangy dogs here
Today, night train to Agra, the Taj Mahal is waiting!
Bon Voyage
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