Varanasi

The burning ghats.
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Day 45: The day started with us on the train. At about 0230 we were rudely awoken by a train guard to answer questions about our bags and luggage! We had heard stories of bag theft from some westeners in Jodhpur, so maybe this was some sort of effort to reduce the rate. After nearly 26 hours on the move we arrived in Varanasi, about 20 minutes late. The train station was rather chaotic but we are used to it now and made our way to find the Government Tourist Bureau. We waited for the man for about 15 minutes, eventually we made our tour reservations and left his company to telephone the accommodation to collect us from the train station - as previously arranged. In what seems like a typical sting in this country, the hotel said they expected us the previous day and they no longer had our room at the agreed price of Rs450 but had another room at Rs1200 per night. Scott was trying to make other phone calls to find alternate arrangements when he was offered a business card from our second preference hotel in Varanasi. We accepted the help and piled into a tuk tuk for the journey through the very busy Varanasi streets and finally drown a quiet narrow alleyway to our lodging. The price and rooms were right (on the second room). After nearly 28 hours we had finally arrived! Like most places in India, when there is no power there is no hot water; this place is no exception. Still smelling and unwashed we went for a walk along the Ganges Ghats. Just like the tour guides show, we saw the locals washing themselves, their clothes and their goats on the holy river. A bit further down the river we found the smaller of the two 'burning ghats' where the untouchables make funeral pyres for the cremation of the deceased. We were respectful for the solemnity of the occasion we were witnessing, it is just a pity that the hawkers and touts don't feel the same way. After a bit more walking along the riverside we ducked up through a chowk to the main road heading back to the hotel. The streets off the main drag are very narrow and winding, so just about every vehicle (2, 3 or 4 wheel) is on the main road. We stopped for snacks at the Bread of Life Bakery and had a reasonable lassi and very nice cinnamon bun. Feeling the onset of a cold from our travels, we stopped at several Chemists on the way back to the hotel and then had an afternoon nanna nap. The call at 1700 from the hotel staff to join the 1800 boat trip on the Ganges caught us unaware, Tracy was mid hot-shower (a miracle in this country). We had a pleasant boat trip on the Ganges at sunset. The silence of the evening was only broken by the occasional motorised boat, the gongs and the bells of the ghat-side ceremonies and the 'classical signing' of our oarsman. Maybe he thinks he is a good singer, but we thought the trip would have been much better in the silence! Tracy bought a candle and set it adrift on the holy waters with a prayer to feel better, it didn't work! After a little more 'music' our oarsman delivered us to the ghat to disembark. Never missing the opportunity, we were recommended places to take chai, coffee, silk carpets etc. Declining these, we went back to the hotel for dinner and an early night.

Sunset on the Ganges.
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Day 46: The cold/flu for which we started to feel the effects yesterday hit Tracy with a vengeance during the night. Scott got up and went for the sunrise boat tour, whilst Tracy stayed in bed. The oarsman was the same guy as the sunset tour guide. The chilly morning hadn't quietened his 'singing' voice as we walked the short distance to the ghat. We boarded the boat in the pre-dawn light and had barely cast off when he rowed the boat back to the shore where we collected his brother who took over the rowing duties. Now the guide could talk (and talk and talk) without having to row! The morning was very still and quiet with the silence broken by morning prayers and loud speakers playing feedback and static at '000s of dbs. Mixed with the guides singing the peacefulness was almost completely destroyed. This morning was apparently an important day in the Hindu calendar and everyone kept telling us of the many many people who would be bathing in the Mother River this day. Varanasi has 2.3m residents, so I was expecting many more than the few hundred people at a few of the ghats performing their morning rituals. Just like the previous night the opportunities to assist me to part with my money were not missed. The new oarsman suggested we stop for chai, he knew a friend with a cafe nearby. Funnily enough, he seemed a little miffed when I declined the offer. After about 80 minutes of the two-hour tour we were back at the starting placed for the tour. Had I not gotten the photos of the sunrise I was hoping to get, I would have been extremely unhappy, but I went back to the hotel to check on Tracy. We had a little snooze. Later, she was feeling a little better, so we had breakfast and then Tracy went back to the room to recuperate. Tracy spent most of the day in bed, so Scott went for a walk and a trip to the chemist again being harrassed all the way. During the walk, I again wandered past the "burning" ghat. There was a cremation well under way. The fire tender might have been teaching his kids to follow in his footsteps, but they didn't seem interested in the science to properly reducing a body to ashes; they seemed to be having more fun whacking the partly burnt skull with long bamboo poles to see how high they could make it bounce. I would like to have photographed the process of the cremation. Some of it seems to be taken very seriously, such as the dousing the corpse in Gange waters but some of it seemed very lacksadaisical; I thought disrespectful. The holy man reciting the mantra with mouthfuls of betel to the extent he would barely speak. They don't allow photography at these ghats (I assume they think the idea disrespectful), but it seems that flying kites and raucously playing cards and gambling is ok? If life in India is strange, the end of life here is even more bizarre. In the afternoon Tracy came good so we went for a walk to Assi Ghat and returned to the hotel when the "want a boat, flower, candle" got too much to bear. We had a rest, then Scott went and booked accommodation for Kerala, had dinner and was in bed by 1930.

I had to see the Ganges. Unfortunately we picked Varanasi as the place to go. It was dirty, loud, and has the most persistent beggars. This is also one of the most polluted cities we visited and I was sick the whole time.

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Day 47: Woke up with both of us feeling very under the weather - not much improvement from Tracy and Scott suffering badly as well. We packed up after having breakfast, wandered to the Chemist for yet more cold and flu tablets. We finalised the hotel bill and headed off to the train station hoping the train would be on time. But for once, it was late and we couldn't find a waiting room that didn't smell of urine - the joys of India. We parked ourselves on the platform and waited and waited. The train finally arrived 1:45 late. We piled into our 3AC train ride. It was much neater and the seats softer than the sleepers we have been used to. The carriage got extremely hot as you couldn't open a window. Although finally the cooling came on and we settled in, only when our travelling partners got on were we disturbed - they thought we were in their seats and kept talking loudly for ages, finally settling down for the night.