Third blog, and unfortunately my final one from India. This is a big shame, and I guess I cannot say that I have truly traveled India, but I suppose I knew this before I came out that it would be this short. Either way it has left an impression on me, and I would be very pen to returning. The place is a true assault on all five senses. Most prominent are the smells, sights and noise. Whether it is walking into the damp smell of the hotel room and the dodgy herbal soap they give you, to the maze of cowshit that you have to avoid in the cramped streets, or to the aromatic street food- which you look at with lust, but are to chicken shit to risk- you know you’re in another world when you take a deep breath of this place. As for the noise, all I have to say is “Indian Traffic”. They make Romans look like toddlers on tricyles. They are a bunch of bloody nutters, weaving in and out of forward and oncoming traffic with literally centimetres to spare. They use the horn as often as someone suffering from haemorrhoids would scratch their arse, and piss their pants when the passenger so much at whimpers dissent. But it’s bloody brilliant. I mean, everyone is on the same page, they all like they’re all having fun, they get you to where you are fast as, and it costs about 50p for a 2/3 mile ride. I honestly don’t think that anymore or any less people die on the roads.
The second half of my very brief time here were a tale of two cities. We spent two days slowly sailing down the Ganges, which was mint. Apart from the constant grimace of the 19 year old lad that was rowing our boat (which worked by the reward of a handsome tip), life was bliss. Three people to a boat, cruising downstream towards Varanasi, reading a book, or generally going bugger all- all washed down with cup of hot chai. What a life.
Contrast this with Varanasi, Shiva Land- people EVERYWHERE. Hustle, bustle, and intense heat. The ghats off the Ganges where they cremate people were really interesting and presented some really great photo opportunities (though not of cremations which would have just been plain rude). They say that they don’t repair the roads here, because that’s how the God of Destruction, Shiva would have preferred it. Realistically, it’s because of a corrupt state government. Eitherway, getting around on auto rickshaw was a joke, and put me in the first foul mood of the trip. Lack of sleep, heat and 6 o clock wake up calls contributed to it. It was quickly relieved by yet another gorgeous Indian sunset. With a background of a local sitar player, the bright orange disc slowly fell into the river as we lit candles and let them float into the night. We made a wish for each of the 15 we lit. Noticeably, my wish for a sustained Liverpool Premiership campaign for next year, blew out before I had a chance to put it into the water. Still, Peter Crouch Hat-Trick against the Gooners!!!!
In Nepal now. Will write more in Kathmandu, where Photos will upload quicker than they do now. I have trek in Chitwan to look forward to, after seeing the Buddah’s birthplace yesterday. Seems less hectic…that’s a good thing.
M x
