Our Final Week in India

Because we had a fixed date to get to Vietnam, our last week involved a lot of travelling, but in various forms.  Firstly we left Kolkata by sleeper train.  After a ride through the city, and over the large bridge over the Hooghly River, we arrived at the massive Howrah Station.  We found our comfortable carriage, but Tim had a shock when buying snacks as some unfortunate victim from an earlier train was being physically dragged by his legs on to a bicycle hearse as he went past.

The actual journey itself was quite comfortable if honest, but still took fourteen hours – nothing is quick in India.

Our destination was Varanasi, which is a complete assault on the senses.  Over the years it has turned into an urban sprawl and lost much of its charm – the holy now have to compete with beeping auto-rickshaws, motorbikes and cars on their way to the ghats.  The lack of reverence, particularly to those being carried on a stretcher to their cremation, is stark; and in a great contrast to the equally holy towns of Pushkar and Haradwar, which still feel very spiritual.

It was still great to see, and we went on the river Ganges to observe the rituals of bathing and cremations from afar. We also walked onto the ghats themselves.  The funeral ghats are particularly harrowing as the process of cremation begins with helpers bringing wood for the pyre, before a priest proceeds the body as it is carried on a stretcher, dipped in the Ganges and laid on the wood to burn; and finally ends with the ashes being swept into the River.  With four funerals at the same time on a muddy bank, it was all a little industrial so we only stayed for a short while – particularly when we noticed that one individual’s feet were poking out in the middle of the cremation.

Our faith was restored somewhat in Varanasi when we observed the daily ritual of the Ganga Aarti.  This is a similar ceremony to the one in Haradwar, although on a significantly smaller scale due to the size and shape of the ghat.  We climbed on board a small boat and found ourselves with front row seats as the seven young priests performed the hour-long ritual of praising Mother Ganga.  It was great to see and hear, and was almost theatrical in its setting and staging.

After a few days we moved on to Khajuraho.  This was a place we had not heard of previously, but was a result of a conversation with two Brazilian travellers we met in Nepal.  As it is a small town it is quite difficult to get to, and the lack of trains and buses meant we ended up having a ten and a half hour taxi ride to get there.

The journey was well worth it as the town is famous for a vast series of temples which were built in 930 to 1050 AD.  The remaining temples were in remarkable condition as they were effectively taken back by the jungle until being re-discovered eighty years ago.

The twelve or so best temples are set in beautiful walled grounds in the centre of the town.  As well as being very tall, with multiple layers and containing various temples and antechambers, the carvings remain incredibly detailed.  Their claim to fame is that some of the carvings are rather risqué, with depictions of orgies, animal sex (actually with a horse) and various karma sutra positions on display.  However, the vast majority do depict hunting scenes and other day to day views of Indian society in 10th and 11th century India.  The whole town was a delight to see, and actually very relaxing.

Our penultimate travel choice was an overnight sleeper bus.  This is an extraordinary piece of equipment where the seats have been removed and replaced by a bed, or in this case a piece of wood with a thin mattress and a sheet on top.  To start with, we sat comfortably leaning against the wall until after we stopped for food.  Then we tried to lie down, but anybody who has seen Indian roads coupled with Indian bus drivers will appreciate that they have invented a new theme ride called “Avoid Being Bounced Out of Bed or Being Knocked Out on the Bed Above”.

This was a precursor to two rough days, as after very little sleep, Paul had food poisoning and spent two evenings on the toilet.  It’s amazing that it has taken twelve weeks and the last few days in India to get ill.  Fortunately, it was a two day glitch that did not stop us doing anything.

After an overnight stop in Delhi we flew north to the magical area of Ladakh in the Jammu and Kashmir region.  The capital, Leh, was set amongst the edge of the Himalayas, but this was a bit more akin to neighbouring Pakistan and Afghanistan than the lush areas of Nepal and Bhutan.  The surrounding areas and mountain passes are best discovered on the back of a mountain bike, but we will have to leave that mode of transport for another time.

We did explore the lovely, quiet streets of Leh, with its coffee shops and restaurants full of Western tourists mixing with the happy locals, but our main reason to visit was to see the magnificent palace and castle overlooking the town.  We could see the modern town laid out before us as well as the Old Town with its buildings made of mud in the traditional way.  Our time there was made all the more special as on the second day the clouds cleared to see the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

This was a lovely way to end our time in India, and we have got some great ideas of where still to visit in India (we have barely scratched the surface) and things to do elsewhere from people we have met.  Stay tuned to see if we get to them all.