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Sitting here listening to four performers playing traditional regional music and being eaten alive by mosquitos despite the peaceful sleep application.

I think the wise thing to do would be to have supper and return to the relative mosquito free zone of my room to continue the blog. There’s ambience and then there’s a night of discomfort and sorry, I’m going with the option that will not have me covered in cortizone cream tonight.

Ok, back. Supper finished before the two big groups descend on the restaurant and safe from the mozzies in my air-conditioned room. This very much reminds me of Zanzibar – beautiful outside in the evening but swarming with “nature”… Goggas and snakes is the part of nature I’ll gladly do without.

After early tea and the Indian version of “tennis biscuits” I was collected by the 22 seater truck for the safari. Our resort being one of the closest to the Park entrance I was the last person they collected on the way and both this morning and afternoon I got prime seat right in front. Sooo not complaining.

Before we formally entered the park gate we arrived into the territory of Sultan the Alpha Male Tiger of the park. He currently shares this with his son T23. Sultan was sunning himself by a small pool about 300m away from the road and caused quite the stir. People were excited and scrambled around to get pictures. I think the most funny was the tree filled with monkeys staring dumbstruck at the people below. I could see the WTF on their faces… It’s a tiger, get over it!

Sultan is a controversial tiger – he currently lives in the park area, but not in the park. The park is not fenced, like reserves in South Africa, animals roam free, but hunting within park boundaries are prohibited. He has been linked to killing three people in the past. Not a kitty to be messed with.

Inside the park we saw spotted deer, peacocks, turtles, king fisher birds, Egrets, parakeet, woodpeckers, crocodile and two species of monkey. Searching the dense brush from a moving vehicle is quite tiring.

On the way back Sultan was having a swim. T23 was laying amongst the branches above the pool and you could make out his movements, but it was too much detail too far away for the camera to focus for a picture. Then Sultan decided to play along for the tourists. He got up, stretched and walked through the bush towards the road, he passed right in front of our vehicle before disappearing into the brush on the other side of the road. The result was total chaos… It reminded me of the paparazzi stalking a celebrity. I really wonder what he was thinking at that point.

On a tiger-spotting high we returned to the resort for breakfast. My eyes and brain tired from the intense scanning of the park I took a break and fell asleep. When my alarm said it was time for lunch before the afternoon safari I was tempted to give both a miss. But as Bon Jovi said.. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, so I did lunch and we were off again.

My early morning seating companion was Antoine from Los Angeles a biology major that is taking a break before joining the peace core. My afternoon companion was Immar from Hungary. He has just spent two months in the Himalayan region with the monks studying Buddhism. Both gentlemen had some interesting views on life, the universe and everything Indian.

This time Father and Son was doing a double act and the crowd was loving it! Both tigers were laying on the grassy spot by their pool. A traffic jam of epic proportions ensued with much pushing, shoving, shouting and horn-blowing. Despite warnings people were getting out of vehicles and walking to the area to get a view and a photo. Cars were abandoned in the middle of the narrow road. Tempers flared. It was quite the spectacle and the risk manager in me wondered what would happen if the tiger got fed up with the raucous and snapped?

Luckily things sorted themselves out without incident, like it mostly does in this strange country. I even got a nice pic before we had to move on to give the 20 plus vehicles behind us a chance to do the same.

Once inside the park we took a different route this time to a different zone. We saw much of the same and I got a shot of a mother deer suckling her baby. On the way back park officials have arrived at Sultan’s pool to take control of the situation. He was still contently sunning himself, but we had to move on before I could get my dream shot – C’est la vie… guess you can’t always have it all.

Back at the hotel there was time for a quick swim before the cultural show and tea/coffee. This is where this blog started… tea, cultural show and mozzies.

Tomorrow it is the same formula – safari’s at 07:00 and 15:00. Let’s see if the boys come out to play 🙂

I’m going to cheat a little and combine today and yesterday’s posts as it was mostly spent on the train.

The morning began in Orchha with breakfast at the hotel, overrun by a group of French tourists. Now those of you that know me, know that I hate French tourists with a passion, they just make my blood boil – and not in a good way! This did not bode well and the hotel’s card facilities was on the blink and I did not want to spend my last cash on something I can purchase electronically.

I met my guide and we set off to explore the collection of three palaces that are open to the public. He was just as sick as I was and explanations were stopped as a result of coughing fits – both his and mine. It was an interesting tour of a site that has only recently been opened as a tourist attraction.

The one set of underground rooms (phase 1 of the palace) has been securely closed as it was previously used by students from the nearby university town for clandestine meetings (of the non-political kind).

One palace has been restored is is now used as a boutique hotel.

The Mogul palace is just heart-breaking to visit. Is is beautiful, took 22 years to build and was presented by the king to his friend, the father of Shah Jahan (the builder of Taj Mahal). He only stayed here one night. As it was presented to him as a gift, it was never used again, until the British came to power and used it was military base. It kinda reminds me of 2010…. enough said.

After this we visited one of the most holy temples in India, built for the God Rama. The temple is so holy that the people of the town is exempted from paying government taxes (non-residents must still pay… as my hotel bill proves) and the sale of alcohol and meat in the town is forbidden. It was my first visit to an Hindu temple where people were actively busy with worship, several priests stationed around the temple receiving offerings on behalf of the deities and I even saw the delivery of a wedding invitation or two. One newly married couple mixed holy water (provided by the priest) with turmeric and put it on their hands. They then added their handprints to many others before them on a wall in order to receive the blessing for their union.

I somehow always thought the catholics had the lead when it came to religious rituals, but every encounter with the hindu uncovers another layer of ritual and symbolism… right up to leaving the temple walking backwards in order for not having to ‘turn your back on the god’.

With the short tour completed I returned to the hotel for a lukewarm pepsi and a rest. By the time I checked out of the hotel the card machine worked after the 8th try and we were on our way to Jhansi station. We passed a official looking man sitting by the side of the road – the driver stopped, payed him some money and came back with a slip. Tax for taxi’s and tourist vehicles – required as we had crossed some regional boarder.

This station was something else. I was met by a local representative who checked my ticket and ‘baby-sat’ me until I boarded the train. We were 30 minutes early and he clearly did not relish the time spent on the platform… It was everything everyone warns you about India on a single cement block… – minus the cows. I had to keep reminding myself that sad as this is, this is still someone else’s life I’m intruding on here.

The train was clean and neat, although a little battered and here and there the seat-trays would rattle loose from their latches and drop at random. The American tourists that sat close to me was adamant that their guide said they must avoid the food and drink at all cost, it is not safe. They even eyed the sealed bottle of water provided with suspicion. I never got such a warning, read good reviews and according to my intinary dinner is provided tonight and this must be it. It was good, although quite spicy and no harm had come to this individual…

We arrived at Delhi just after 10pm and a familiar face of the company rep was waiting on the platform. We chatted all the way to the car where another familiar face received a scolding – It was ManSingh ! Although I was glad to see him again he was supposed to be in Shimla with his family. Next week….

It was like coming home – the hotel gave me my old room and I could sleep in as check-out and drive to station was only at 11:45.

Safely in my room I took the meds for the cold and could barely stay awake to set my alarm clock.

I snoozed the alarm, but had to get up to still catch breakfast. After that I re-organized my suitcase transferring some shopping to the red case that is ‘squatting’ at the hotel. I’ll have to do a complete re-organise before I leave for cape town.

My transfer was early, but as unpredictable as Indian traffic can be we left all the same. Different railway line, different station. This platform was a little less chaotic and more clean that Jhansi. The train is less ‘luxurious’ that yesterday’s one, but clean and the food safe (as assured by my company rep). I ended up sitting with a group of Delhi doctors and their spouses taking a weekend break to Rathambore.

The ride was uneventful, although the waitrons ignored me completely, probably by now already convinced that the white tourist will decline everything anyways. Eventually I stopped one in a hallway and got some tea 🙂

Again a local rep met me at the station and I got transferred to the hotel in an open jeep – ‘safari style’ (as they say). The early evening warm breeze was quite nice as we drove to the hotel. I had to remind him twice that I’m from Africa and I’m used to riding like this. Although doing it on indian roads takes it to the ‘next level’ 😛

The hotel is nice and my room is close to the pool and restaurant. The food was good and the diet coke was COLD! The poor mother at the table next to me was pulling her hair out as the little boy had no interest in eating his meal. I explained to her that this is a universal problem of parents everywhere… As the father said… in his time it was easy, either you eat it now, or you eat it when you’re hungry later or you go without, your choice.

I bought a new hat at the shop as I seem to have lost the hat I brought along on the trip. Tomorrow there is biscuits and tea/coffee before we head out to the park at 07:00, breakfast will follow after 10:00 when we return. The afternoon at 15:00 there will be another safari drive.

Let’s hope we spot a tiger on a Saturday morning…

Today was a low-key day and thank heavens for that. I feel horrid.

Breakfast at 09:00, a look around the gift store at the hotel (it is confirmed, I cant shop when I’m sick) and check-out at 11:45.

Then we hit the road in our Suzuki Swift Sedan for the four hour drive to Orchha. It is not that far, the road is just very bad and the fastest we travelled is 80km/hr on the open stretches. When you drive through a settlement – well anything can happen, so it’s down to a crawl. We passed fields and villages, swerved potholes and livestock and weaved our way to our halfway stop.

Here we stopped for lunch and a comfort break. Upon hearing that I come from South Africa I got the weirdest question from the staff – So, tell me about Nigeria. No.. not Nigeria, South Africa. The response… but is Nigeria not in South Africa (I almost said yes, if feels that way :P) But technnically no, it is in the North of Africa. Total blank look… I try again… Nigeria is part of Africa, but in the North of the continent, a different country that SA. It is a city in South Africa? No, it is a country on the continent – Africa has 52 countries. What – 52 cities, ghees it is huge….. No, not cities, countries – like India, Sirilanka, Pakistan – one continent, different countries. Baffled looks – they dont believe me. In the end I pulled out the IPad, googled a map of Africa and showed them the two countries in question. Light dawns… No, I dont know Nigeria just because we share a continent. All I know about Nigeria is that they are mostly Muslim and speak french. Why they speak french? It was a french colony, just like you were a british colony.

It turns out Mr Curiosity has a facebook friend in Nigeria and thought he’d find out more from a ‘fellow african’. Sorry bro, can’t help you there…

Again the whole Africa the continent vs South Africa discussion. Has happened countless times before. The rest of the world assumes that Africa is one big country. Shakes head… Even the Moroccans (fellow Africans) thought that everything below the Sahara is one country – It’s south isn’t it?

Eventually we reached our destination – a small town built around the ruins of bygone times. Our hotel is some distance away from the centre – not conducive for taking a stroll to see the town.

My room is back and beyond in a corner. Luckily there are other guests around, else I would have asked for a different one. The porter seems to think it is the best part of the hotel – nice and quiet he said. Must have seen the look on my face as before I even asked he said.. all the rooms in this sector booked tonight, nice and quiet.

Just as I contemplated which combination of my meds I’ll try next I saw the Ayurvedic Centre’s card – Nasyam treatment for congestion of the sinus area and head-ache. The first time I see this treatment as an option – It’s a sign. I am ready to try almost anything.

I went to the centre and 15 minutes later the lady was massaging oils onto my face – it smelled like the spice combination I use for my xmas gingerbread men. She was very thorough, especially on the areas that hurt. She alternated facial massage with rubbing the palms of my hands and soles of my feet. Then she poured the hot oil in my nostrils – that stuff burns when it hits your throat. But, whatever the hell she did, it worked. It’s three hours later and I still breathe, the facial tenderness is less and headache is gone. I think I should take her back home with me 😛

Having done late breakfast and lunch, I think i’ll skip dinner and just have some tea. Tomorrow is 8am pickup at the hotel for site seeing of the palace and Orccha area before I catch the train back to Delhi round about 16:30 for 17:55 departure. According to the ticket we arrive in Delhi at 22:45 and then still drive to the hotel – it’s gonna be a long day.

Yesterday was not a good day – this cold seems to have morphed into a severe sinus infection immune to any of the drugs I throw at it. Hence the day went past in a haze of heat, coughing spams and homesickness.

En route to Varanasi airport we passed a jeep with a bundle of jewel coloured material on the roof – gaudily flapping in the wind – a normal site for the locals. This is a rural family that rented the jeep specially to transport a departed relative to the cremation site on the riverbank to fulfill a life-long wish. Seems that not only luggage is transported on the roof.

The airport building is new, but procedures are strictly followed. No persons without a valid ticket inside the building – goodbyes said outside please. Baggage scans, check-in, personal security checks and boarding happen as per announcement per flight – with 10 to 15 min pauses in-between. Between these activities the staff sit and drink tea, chat and eye the (some) patiently waiting passengers. There seems to be a time for everything – no getting the formalities out the way and having coffee waiting for your boarding call next to your gate here!

The plane was a small 80 seater bombardeer (as per the safety card) with two actual propellers. I was a little nervous – this is the smallest plane I’ve been in for a long time, it is a budget Indian airline and the malaysian disaster is fresh in the mind, although we are miles from the ocean. Anything can happen in the short flight. There are no video screens on board and the attendant actually still does the safety exit and how to use the seatbelt ritual…. blast from the past?

Having said that the flight was quick and without incident, staff (all three of them I could see- pilot and two attendants) very friendly. I fell asleep during decent and woke up with a jolt when we landed, much to the amusement of the flight attendant. We shared a giggle 🙂

Khajuraho airport is small and suits this sleepy town with its 15 000 inhabitants. Traffic jams constitute three motorcycles passing each other at the same time on the dusty road. This is an agricultural community with a world heritage site as its heart. It is worlds away from the hustle of Varanasi and Delhi. And it is HOT!

I checked into the hotel – big sprawling complex on the outskirts of ‘town’. Was received with a blue cocktail and a cool towel. There was hardly time to put down the luggage before we ventured out to see the temple complex that put this place on the ‘map’ – so to speak.

Surrounded by the jumble of tourist shops is a low key entrance to what I jokingly referred to in my tour itinerary as the “karma sutra in stone”

It happens to be just that… a hindu temple complex to the three second level gods (below Om) – in Hindu statues – the guys with the four arms. The temples (quite graphically) celebrates early Indian sexuality as an form of religious ritual. It is split into the Karma Sutra acts – deemed ‘normal between two consenting partners of the opposite sex’ and Tantric Sex between various consenting partner combinations with the goal to achieve nirvana. If it ends in orgasm – your doing it wrong 😛 (sic – as per my guide)

The rest of the statutes are various gods, goddesses, mythical creatures and dancing ladies and their support staff (always presented as knee-hight figures). Elephants and battle scenes also feature.

The Eastern complex is a big area with many big temples dotted in a garden. One is preserved excellently, the others were not as lucky, but has been restored structurally – without carvings. One of the temples is currently undergoing a clean-up operation as the sandstone tends to blacken with age.

I was glad my guide introduced some humour into the situation, after politely asking if that will be acceptable. According to him, it helps to associate the statues with a funny ‘story’ in order to remember them better. He dreamed up various scenarios around selected figures including references to iPads and Gucci handbags for the servants.

But it is visual overload – the detail is just overwhelming that after 15 minutes it all seems to look the same.

We headed off to the Eastern complex – 2km away. These share a garden setting with active Jain temples, are smaller and without the erotic scenery. One temple contains a beautiful black marble statue of the first Jain prophet. This religion pre-dates Buddhism and their statutes can easily be confused with that of the buddah. Difference – Jain statues wear no visible clothing on the upper body (clothed in the sky – i.e. naked) and have a diamond shape in the middle of the chest to symbolize enlightenment. I enjoyed strolling through these gardens.

After this we set out to the hotel, refreshed and returned to town for a folk dance show. Dancers in traditional costumes of the various regions performed dances originating from that region. It was very lively and colourful and made me realize that today’s Bollywood movies and the music videos playing during breakfast at the hotels have not strayed far from India’s cultural roots.

Back in the hotel I ordered Chinese (the Indians LOVE their Chinese food) and turned in for the night – way too exhausted and sick to read, blog or even enjoy the massive flatscreen tv in my room. Luckily I declined any site seeing for the next day – There is a national park close by, but I’m in Rathambore for three days, will do animals there.

Another early morning after a late night. We left the hotel at 5:30 on the dot to join the other pilgrims as they head to the Ghats for the holy dip. Some were already coming back and the ghat was a hive of activity with people brushing their teeth with a tree-branch sold specially for that purpose and others in various stages of undress preparing either for the dip, or the temple visit following the dip.

According to my guide the morning dip is very auspicious under the golden gaze of the rising sun (also one of the MANY Hindu deities). Seeing the elderly in the cold water tugged at the heart-strings, but they looked so at peace. With my western mind and recent hot shower fresh in my memory I found it hard to relate.

As there were no cremations when the boat passed the cremation areas, it was acceptable to take photographs. Photos of cremations are deemed disrespectful and severely frowned upon. When we walked passed the main area back to the road the brutal reality struck me as we passed inches from a body wrapped in bright material – the first ‘customer’ of the new day.

I was face to face with the India most people have in their minds – It’s either “slumdog millionaire” or the iconic lonely figure of Lady Diana in front of the Taj Mahal.

This little vignette of India cannot be whitewashed, it is what it is – claustrophobic, unsanitary, delapidated and smelly. Alleyways crammed with people, trash, animals and animal byproducts. After emerging to the relatively open street for the first time i understood the astroturf-like floormat in the car we drove… quite the ingenious idea.

Yet hidden amoung the squalour are gems like the one my guide took me to see – off a courtyard at the end of maze. There, next to a small local eatery and the cow shed – fuel cowpats drying against the fence, is a exquisitely carved sandstone temple. This country is full of surprises if you are prepared to look beyond the surface.

We returned to the hotel for breakfast and an opportunity to quickly recharge my camera battery. There were no Indian sweets at all this morning in the buffet and i tried a piece of the bacon – it was very salty and the smell reminded me of the riverbank. Maybe what they say is true… It may take me a while before I’ll be able to touch pork again.

Next we headed out to Sarnath – the birthplace of Buddism, as this is where he did his first teaching to four monks after receiving enlightenment. The non-violent Buddists fled the region when the Moguls invaded, but subsequently various pilgrims have returned to the region. The Indian government has provided land to various Buddist countries to build temples and schools for their communities. We visited the Siri-Lankan temple where a second generation offspring of the tree under which he found enlightenment was planted and now stands proudly.

Here I had the opportunity to do something I’ve always wanted to do ever-since the first time I saw it – turn a prayer-wheel. There is something calming and extremely satisfying in this simple action.

Against the stupa are prayer flags – their movement in the wind is supposed to send the prayers to heaven. They are inscribed with various prayers – one from a brother asking that his brother’s wish to become a doctor be granted. The other from parents wishing for the happiness of their children. One english one was heart-breaking parents wishing that their son will catch up with his development and live a 100% normal life.

We visited the active archeological site, set in what was once a deer-park. Despite requests pilgrims still put goldleaf offerings on the ruins. Various Buddhist monks in white and orange garb dot the site.

The museum exhibits the artifacts and statutes found on the site. Most deliberately ruined by the Moguls as they knew that Hindu’s and Buddhists will not pay homage to a ‘imperfect’ statue and in Muslim religion representations of living things are forbidden – so faces of animals and humans are destroyed.

Lastly it was the Thai temple with its 82 foot Buddha statue. The statue is recent – four years old, the temple is much older.

We visited an artists shop where I purchased a small soapstone Buddha and had the honour to meet the artist who did the carving.

Then we went to look at a co-op that produces Varanasi’s speciality – Silk weaving. Every Hindu woman must have a least one Varanasi Silk Sari in her collection. The work is intricate, time consuming and very beautiful.

As I was not feeling well and it was very hot I decided to call it a day – no fort visit for me – besides I spent the fort-visit money on a (pink) scarf.

We headed back to the hotel where it was goodbye to the driver and the guide. It is not certain which driver will do the airport transfer tomorrow.

In the hotel I took some medicine (purchased from a roadside pharmacist earlier). had some tea and fell asleep. I woke up hungry (did not feel like eating earlier) and decided to go for early supper in the coffee-shop.

First some shopping – I wanted to get some postcards and ended up with quite a few small nick-naks for the family. The postcards were written while waiting for my egg/chicken fried rice.

If you’re blonde, you’re really blonde. I tried to get the bluetooth between cellphone and ipad working – with no success only to realize that I can use the personal hotspot function on the Ipad to upload data to the internet via my phone. After this epiphany I uploaded this morning’s pics onto Facebook. The pic of the monk in his saffron garb sitting on the platfom outlined by the rising sun is one of my favorites.

They pick me up at 11:00, so tomorrow morning is a sleep-in and late breakfast. Maybe I’ll get some reading done tonight. Thank heavens all the reading material is on the Ipad, I would be really despondent if I had lugged a book all around India and not read much more than 3 pages to date 😛

Tomorrow – Kama Sutra in stone (after a short flight). I hope my guide has a sense of humour as this visit could get REALLY awkward.

Due to some delay close to Agra our train arrived 45 minutes late, which apparently had our local representative in a tizz, fearing that something might have happened to the train.

But all was well. We slept well and the family disembarked one station before Varanasi. I took the opportunity to consolidate my luggage and thought I would do some people watching on the way. We were lucky as our window was relatively clean and one could watch the world go by. However, just as I was about to sit down we pulled into a station and some gentleman told me that this was the last stop. And so it was, there was the guy holding up my name. People watching from the train would have to wait…

A railway porter carried my luggage on his head up and down the stairs as we weaved our way past the pilgrims out into the sweltering morning heat that is part and parcel of this region. On the way people were taking the opportunity to brush their teeth right there on the platform. I was so focused on not loosing my company representative that I did not have time to notice much else.

Our driver put the luggage in the trunk of the sedan car, modestly decorated by Indian standards, I paid the porter and off we went squeezing between two trucks to get out of the station parking. On this our company rep cheerfully remarked that the 8th wonder of the world is ‘indian traffic’. I tend to agree.

Varanasi is a melting pot of the entire India as this is a Hindu and Buddhist holy city and all Indians try to visit the site at least once in their lives. It is the dream of a Hindu to live close to Varansi and to die and be cremated on the banks of the Ganges at one of the two cremation sites. Having this honour will ‘wash away’ all your sins, clear your bad karma and ensure your place in heaven. Having said all this, this is a town with many elderly people paying penance for their sins by painfully navigating the steps on the Gnats for a spiritual cleanse in the holy water. Faith is a strong motivator.

What I saw on the way to the the hotel this city has a more rural feel than Agra and Delhi. Traffic was less intense – by Indian standards at least, but this is apparently just a ‘Sunday thing’. Not sure if this will be different tomorrow as we depart 5:30 for sunrise boatride on the river. Most companies “open shop” at around 10am, so this should be prior to rush hour.

The hotel is clean and modern and cosmopolitan. Quite different from the Heritage hotels we have been living in before. It has several restaurant options and a 24 hour coffee shop in the lobby, which doubles as breakfast venue. There are jewelry, curio and clothing shops in the lobby and a fully functioning “Wellness Centre”/Ayurvedic and beauty spa on the 2nd floor. It goes without saying that Wifi is purchasable by the 1/2 hour from the reception desk – no free wifi here 😛

The local rep assisted me with check-in and I enjoyed a late breakfast at the coffee shop before going to my room. Breakfast was very good with some dishes I have not encountered until now. A indian sweet that looks like a kind of deep-fried pretzel, orange in colour and dipped in a sweet – rose flavoured syrup. The description at the buffet only states “indian sweet”. If they have it again tomorrow I’ll ask for more info. The other was something that resembles a small round doughnut, made out of mashed potato with cumin seeds and then deep-fried – Medhu Vada the description said.

This was also the first hotel that had bacon on the breakfast menu – I did not have any, but I did notice the absence of this western breakfast staple on the indian menu.

They have these plates that keep the coffee, tea, milk hot and if you remove it from the plate to pour within a few seconds it speaks to you in a “mind the gap”-voice reminding you to return it to the plate. That would drive me insane. The egg booth – ‘Omlettes while you wait’ was close to my table and this used the same type of cooker. The chef and I later shared an exasperated giggle every time “gap-lady” complained. That man must have the patience of saint!

I could not resist a spot of tourist junk shopping at the curio store en route to my room. Purchased a pink handmade card with an elephant which I want to incorporate in my Holi display.

Did a bit of laundry before showering and making some tea. Then I caught up with some emails, sent some pictures to the family who does not have facebook accounts and slept a little. Before I knew it, it was time to go for the evening ceremony.

My guide was waiting for me in the lobby and after introductions we were off on our way. It feels really weird to have a personal guide. but nice as well, you can go places that will be hard to do with a group.

We walked the last around 800m to the river bank dodging cows and hawkers and holy men. He explained the symbolism behind the various flower garlands and it’s importance in the Hindu religion and the local economy – marigolds and roses on a string is big business in India. I of course had to like the little purple-pink flowers, which apparently have narcotic properties – all righty then.

We walked along several of the interconnected ghats (sets of steps into the river). Officially along the riverbank there are 82. Some are more important, popular as they are close to selected temples and the pilgrims have to pray in the temple after the holy dip – so…. location, location, location.

After floating my Ganga Aarti basket in the river we watched the ceremony with the crowd. It was a riot of light, fire, bells, incense and rose-petals with the priests closing the ritual by ceremonially cleaning the Mother Ganges with fluffy feather ‘brooms’.

We witnessed the end of the ceremony from the top steps to obtain a head-start on the crowds. Technically that was the plan… was it much of a head-start, Im not sure there were people everywhere and vendors of anything not bolted down were doing brisk business. Tourists eyed the spectacle from the relative ‘safety’ of bicycle rickshaws as busses are not allowed in the old city. Traffic were swirling around a circle avoiding the odd cow munching on a stray garland in the road.

I was safely deposited back at the hotel and decided to purchase some wifi time to upload the cellphone pics to facebook. I had supper at the coffee shop opting for lime soda and vegetable thai green curry and some steamed rice – time for a variation on the curry theme. It was very good, but quite hot. I got a complementary taste of another Indian sweet, with the staff eagerly awaiting the result of the tasting. The only way to the describe this (I forget the name) is like a very thick, warm sweet maltabella porridge I grew up with – I’d probably get shot for that description though 😛

It is now 1:09 pm and I’m going to turn in as I have to be up at 4;30 for pick-up at 5:30. We’ll come back for breakfast and then decide the rest of the day’s plans. There is a fort/museum the guide suggested, but he first have to confirm the price with the company as it is not included in the tour and the cost of the driver and the car need to be provided. In for a penny, in for a pound? Anyway things will sort itself out.

Namaste

As Sara put it so eloquently this morning in the Taj Gardens… I’m so excited. Two teenage girls were skipping and twirling en route and they kind-of captured my mood. I took a pic of them to remind myself to live more in the moment. My silliness may encourage others to embrace their inner child too 🙂

So, it was early morning off to stand in line at the main entrance, ready when it opens. It was a captive fest for the swirling mosquitos. Not even they could dampen the mood.

That first moment with the early rays of the sun making the marble glow was more than expected. RR knew just from what angle to get the best pictures. We had pictures taken by a photographer – tourist poses. Then we put our shoe covers on and went into the jewel-box.

It is beautiful, with so much detail. However there are security guards with shrill whistles checking that nobody breaks the ‘cardinal rule – no photos inside’ and also blowing them to encourage the masses to keep moving. I know crowd control is a necessary evil, but cannot help sensing low lying irritation levels in that room, it lifts the minute you leave the main room and the other side areas are light and breezy. I think that THIS is what he had in mind when he first constructed the building. Currently that room is not a place of tranquility and rest. I would love to see if the feeling is different on a Friday when the complex is closed.

Other than that (which is probably all in my mind) I took more than a 100 photos, not counting cellphone pics – like the one attached and the pics taken by the photographer. Every step you move, the light and the picture changes.

We returned to the bus/car park after paying for the pictures we wanted – for me, only one. I also harassed the guide into “letting us stop to buy a junk fridge magnet ” from one of the many little shops that line the road. He was not at all keen with the concept, but I insisted, that is what tourists do… we buy junk from road vendors and keep the tourist trade alive. WTF ??? I payed for this tour and I want the whole nine yards, including the option to look at tourist trinkets without being judged. Buy a t-shirt, get a life!

After breakfast and check-out at the hotel and hit the road, new luggage in the bak of the van… as not to get spoiled on the roof by the sun. OK, if you insist *shrug*

I slept the most of this journey, but I remember many workers harvesting potatoes in soft sandy soil.

We had lunch in Delhi – very good food, eyes exceeding tummy capacity once again. Adam and the girls checked into the hotel and I checked my suitcase into storage. We also confirmed my future bookings for the next two weeks. Then I plugged in my mobile and Ipad to charge for tonight on the train. Ever on the go my American friends confirmed their plans for tonight and to tomorrow and asked the hotel to make the arrangements for transport.

Our tour representative met me at the hotel to hand over my tickets and paperwork for the next few days. Then it was time for hurried good byes as they were off to see a local show and I was off to see the reality show that is “The Indian Railway Experience”….

En route we stopped to buy my supper at a high-end Deli (PUN intended). I got a wholewheat smoked chicken and avo panini, diet coke and pistachio and cherry ice-cream. My young friend then played coolie (railway porter, seriously) and escorted me to my berth in the (upgraded for my safety as solo western female traveller) in 1st Class A/C coach.

I share a berth with a young mother, her two sons (5 yrs and baby) and her in-laws. The in-laws are from Varanasi and she and the kids will be visiting the weekend.

After supper we all made our beds and settled in for the night. I switched beds with the 70 yr old grandfather, the seating arrangements are done by hand – WHO in their right mind puts a man of that age on the TOP bed?? Other people’s children, ai ai ai.

Anyways all is quiet, mom is checking her cellphone and I’m playing catch-up with the blog. In case you are wondering, there are three western style bathrooms on this carriage and earlier tonight it was clean. Lights above the berth door indicate if they are occupied – similar concept to on the plane.

It is now 11:04pm and the train should arrive in Varanasi before 09:00 am. A representative should be waiting for me at the platform to take me to the hotel. Rest of the day free time and the night watching the candles/lights being floated as offerings.

This is my first sleeper train experience and so far, so good.

See you on the other side!