A friend, someone I met in Varanasi towards the end of my trip, an Australian man who's also been travelling on his own, told me it is mind blowing experience to discover this country alone by yourself but it can get very lonely. I just had to laugh in agreement looking around and realising I sit on dirty steps amongst goats and cows and talk to a man who I just met 5 minutes ago pretty much with my head on his shoulder. It can get lonely and you want to seek some support from someone who comes from your world (meaning the Western world) but eventually... We sat on the steps of one of the ghats leading into the holy Ganges and he said "this is a fucking crazy country! I love it so much!" You can't help loving it. It can make you cry in despair and it can lift you up like no other place I've ever been to. People travelling in groups probably get less hassle but I'd say they also miss a great deal of India experience. And it's true what they say- nothing prepares you for India. You are never ready. Even if you think you have read every book and every blog and been to every forum online and heard every story, when you get there you know - nothing fully prepares you for it. The trick is to be open to it instead of close up in defence. Once you stop shocking over things you give yourslef a real chance to enjoy it.
It's easy to love Italy or Greece. Very easy to enjoy the French Riviera or Canadian nature trails or Cancun beaches. It's not that easy to love India. It fights back, it tries to kick you out, it doesn't accept you. But if YOU learn to accept India, it accepts you back, and loving it is suddenly easy. Easier. Forget everything you know about it, it's all useless. Open your heart and mind. That's the only way. Otherwise you won't get past Delhi passport security check. If you can and if you're willing, go alone. It intensifies the feelings. It intensifies the struggles but it also intensifies the joys. Travelling with someone you always have a chance to avoid intimacy with the country and the people. On your own you have no choice but dive headlong into their world. It's amazing experience. If you don't turn around and fly back home the first few days, you've made it.
(click on the pics to see them in original size)(and do not give up, my whining ends at some point and a horror story turns into a fairy tale)
November 21
Riga Airport. Waiting for my flight to Tashkent. From there a flight to Delhi. Am I ready? I don’t know. I have a backpack on my shoulders, Lonely Planet book and two train tickets. I’ve read that no matter what you read (LOL) and no matter how much you know, you’re never ready for India. So I guess I’ll see, if you’re never ready, what’s the use to worry about it?
Uzbekistan Airways planes don’t seem to be any worse than any other airline. Service is excellent and Uzbek beer is well chilled. I boarded this plane 11 a.m. my local time, I'll arrive in Delhi after 3 a.m., that’s tomorrow.
Tashkent airport, at least the transit zone, is a total disaster. You can hardly see through the smoke in the air, it is dark and looks more like a bus station. Restaurant is a real reminder of the Soviet times. It stinks so much I didn’t even get to asking if they accept credit cards. Their tax free shop is smaller than my bedroom. And ... God, could they all please stop smoking? I guess this is the beginning.
3 hrs later I gave in and made it to the restaurant, it actually is a little bit less smokey than the waiting area. I drink AZIA Pilsener beer and look at cockroaches running on the floor. Feet up on another chair, backpack on the table. No way my stuff touches that floor. People sleeping on it don’t seem to mind. Boy George on my iPod.
On another plane, this Tashkent – Delhi flight is half empty and very very nice. Their vegetarian food is excellent and supply of alcohol never ends. Hard to believe this plane belongs to the same country as that disaster of an airport where I’ve just spent 7 hours.
Tashkent airport, at least the transit zone, is a total disaster. You can hardly see through the smoke in the air, it is dark and looks more like a bus station. Restaurant is a real reminder of the Soviet times. It stinks so much I didn’t even get to asking if they accept credit cards. Their tax free shop is smaller than my bedroom. And ... God, could they all please stop smoking? I guess this is the beginning.
3 hrs later I gave in and made it to the restaurant, it actually is a little bit less smokey than the waiting area. I drink AZIA Pilsener beer and look at cockroaches running on the floor. Feet up on another chair, backpack on the table. No way my stuff touches that floor. People sleeping on it don’t seem to mind. Boy George on my iPod.
On another plane, this Tashkent – Delhi flight is half empty and very very nice. Their vegetarian food is excellent and supply of alcohol never ends. Hard to believe this plane belongs to the same country as that disaster of an airport where I’ve just spent 7 hours.
Morning of November 22
Delhi
5:30 a.m. Well here I am. It could have been worse. It could have been better. At least I didn’t turn around and leave as many people do as soon as they land in Delhi. It’s just... completely different. Getting out of the airport you’re greeted with enormous heat wave and more dirt and dust than you’ve ever seen. Locals stare at you hungrily, then suddenly attack you very loudly with offers for cabs, rickshaws, hotels, marijuana, free tours, etc., etc. It is almost 4 a.m.You get to think why is it that people do actually spend a fortune to get here and to stay in these shitty hotels, shitty little stinky rooms with no windows (oh, no, sorry, a cardboard window), a bucket on the floor that passes as a shower, incredible noise outside in the middle of the night. Seems like a clean sheet and pillow cases but just a dirty old blanket. Less than an inch thin mattress over a bed that is actually just a wood platform in the middle of the room. Hard as hell. What’s enlightening in all that?
November 22
First Delhi breakfast. It is 9 a.m. and I am at a breakfast room of hotel Ajanta. I’m afraid to touch any food since I’ve been listening all morning how someone was throwing up in the next room. For hours. I only drink coffee and juice. It all looks OK though. I haven’t stepped out of the hotel yet but the noise outside is quite incredible. I can’t figure out what that is yet, but it sounds like just plain chaos.It is hot like hell. And dry like hell. And dirty like hell. And stinky like hell. It is also impossible to move in this city. It is impossible to cross a street. I am a big fan of chaos, but this is just too damn crazy.
I attempted to get around walking and trying to follow a map and it is just bloody impossible. I like walking around, not knowing where I am, getting lost, finding my way. But not in Delhi. Hard to believe it is actually not possible to take a map in your hands and follow it. No way. I thought this nice older man really kindly helped me to get out of that rough area where I accidently wondered in, and took me to the city centre which is what I was looking for. But of course I didn’t know what it looks like and it didn’t occur to me someone might just lie about that. Why? To get you into shops where they earn commission on every fool they manage to bring in. To sell you something, anything. So in reality he took me to this totally fake travel agency that doesn’t even exist and they gave me a fake map of the city that showed exactly where I am NOT (the city centre) and it cost me 30 Rs to get out of there in a rickshaw and another 10 Rs for a donation in a temple which was also fake (as I so far hadn’t really seen any real temples in India) and 850 Rs for an Indian dress they convinced me I needed not to be harassed on the streets. And I was so determined that I am not gonna be fooled? Lesson learned. Or not. In the afternoon I finally learned to get them out of my way, the only thing that works is yelling at them as loud as they yell at you. Tell them I am not interested in anything and I am not looking for anything. Literally had to push them out of the way to walk. Only yelling and physical pushing worked (they’re afraid to touch you, if you push them away, they leave). Sounds horrible but that’s the only way to move in Delhi.
The city stinks. I mean, literally. Sides of their streets are just open air toilets. Somehow they all go to the same area/spot and you just walking down the street can suddenly walk into this open public bathroom. Saw a family on the street, in one of those open air bathrooms, just living there with their kids, right there on the street, little gas stove by the traffic lights. A baby sleeping on a blanket in all that dirt and stink. The woman smiled at me, so far the first person I meet eyes with that do not ask me for money. And there you turn the corner and there’s bloody McDonalds with a police officer as a doorman, just to keep tourists safe of hassles while they munch on their hamburgers. I escape into Pizza Hut. I always wonder who are those idiot tourists who go to chain food places they have at home when they could explore the local culture and food and people... Today I am that idiot! It is +45 C outside, I cannot breeze in this heavy polluted air, I need air conditioning and I just want peace for at least half an hour. I am not ready for their culture yet.
It probably takes less effort to move from A to B if you’re not alone. I got the worst of it cause I am alone and I am female. The concept they hardly ever see. Now I am wearing an Indian dress and a bindi (got “blessed” at one of those “FREE donations and donation box is RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU” temples, and btw there is another DONATION box right by the door. And don’t forget to pay a shoes’ minder – you have to remove your shoes to go into any temple and that particular temple had a sleeping (I hope he wasn’t just dead!) shoes minder “minding” the shoes). It didn’t occur to me until later that a rickshaw guy just walked me right into that temple. He pretended his rickshaw broke and said we just have to walk over there so he can find me someone else, and we walked right into that thing. “oh, there’s a temple!” The excursion in the temple was very fulfilling, too. “This is Shiva, this is Krishna, this is Shiva’s son, and this is a DONATION BOX!” Did I even think about it that I saw very well that my donation travelled from that donation box straight into his pocket, right in front of me. At the entrance he pointed out to another donation box which irritated the hell out of me, I told him he already got my donation and he should “split it between these two boxes”. He actually laughed and when I walked out, my helpful rickshaw was gone even though I hadn’t paid him for the ride.
Beer kindly delivered to me by hotel staff who assured me it's not gonna be easy if I just go out and try to buy it myself. Cold Kingfishers made me very happy that evening. Simple things :)
I feel ill. I have a bit of a sore throat and fever, and my nose is stuffed. Took a while to realise it’s the air. Impossible to breathe, your throat and lungs are full of Delhi pollution, the heat makes it worse. Being physically and emotionally tired makes it even worser. When I left Delhi it went away.
November 23
Morning. Breakfast. I went to bed at 5 p.m. and didn’t wake up until 10 a.m. this morning when my alarm went off. Still can’t eat here. Coffee and cereal. Can’t imagine touching their egg scramble or any other cooked food. Most tourists at this hotel have suspiciously green faces and someone is vomiting somewhere very loudly all the time.
Inside Jama Masjid
In the kitchen of Gurdwara Bangha Sahib Sikh temple
10 p.m. and I am back at the hotel. Lesson – DO NOT take an open rickshaw ride at night in the dark unless you are ready to be scared, very scared. I didn’t think about it when I was getting into it, but as soon I sat and he started moving... See, it’s like he is cycling and you are sitting on a shaky open platform with nothing even to hold on to. And you are sitting like that in all the Delhi crazy traffic, with buses and cars and other rickshaws and cows around you. Especially at night, in the dark. He was taking me through some really dark tiny stinky streets full of locals, some scarier than the others, and just ME there which felt like I’m the only female in the world sitting on that shaky thing amongst them all going about their business – eating, talking, pissing, getting haircuts, all at the same place – the streets. And of course cows that you suddenly can not see in the dark, and a rickshaw bumping into them doesn’t feel very nice. Uncomfortable and scary, but definitely an experience I wouldn’t want to miss.
November 24
7:45 a.m. – on the train to Mathura. It wasn’t easy but I found my train and my train carriage even had my name on the print out list. They have lists of names on each train carriage but getting to them is really challenging. I am glad I’m in the first class carriage cause regular seating room was already crowded 30 minutes before departure, possibly it was already crowded when the train arrived. You know those pictures with people hanging out of windows and doors? They’re real. Price difference for regular and 1st class is 10 Rs vs 500 Rs. I’m happy I even have a chance to pay 500 and not hang outside the window all the way. At the moment I can’t imagine spending an overnight and more on these trains. One of my future rides is 21 hrs. Seriously tempted to fuck it all and book a flight but maybe I need to give it more time. Just that... sleeping on these trains seems very impossible. However I later on prove that impossible is indeed nothing. I did sleep under that dirty old blanket and I did step into that weird shower and I did eat that funny smelling and looking food and I will sleep on the train too.
At the train station there is a huge billboard with hand written train information. There are no directions, no cities, only numbers, no trains from Delhi to Mathura for instance, but there’s a train number 43569892. You have to find your number on that board and figure out what it says where to find it. Highly amusing standing there in front of that huge board like an idiot. A man in a uniform approached me and asked me to show my ticket, I showed him. He said that I need to go an international tickets office to confirm my seat number as there’s no seat number on the ticket. He said to follow him. Silly me, started following. I was fooled by his uniform but of course I don’t know what their uniforms really look like. I also was fooled by his name badge but I of course didn’t read it. When we walked outside of the train station and he pointed to an ‘agency’ across the street and waved me to follow him, looking all business like and official, it suddenly hit me that I read exactly this story on the Internet, on that Indian Mike forum. The train station offices are only inside of the train station, there’s nothing connected with Indian Railways outside of the station. Usually they just convince you trains aren’t safe, keep you there so long you miss your train, and eventually sell you insanely priced taxi rides to wherever you need to go. I yelled at the man thank you and walked back into the station. Of course I didn’t need anything confirmed.
Railway villages on the road
My guide. He liked being photographed. Other people not so much. I got away with it cause I have this tiny miniature slim camera and some times they didn't realise I'm taking pictures :)
Shelter for women whose husbands have died - those who opten not to step into fire after their men are allowed to live here. Closed community of widows. This is how they live.
My guide in Mathura (and generally everyone I asked to take any pictures) was not very good with the camera. I had to choose between blurry pics taken by somebody else or weirdly posed and awkward self pictures. You decide!
6:30 p.m., I’m done with this city. Sitting at the railway station. 2 hours to my train. At this very moment positive discrimination rocks – women only waiting room!!! The station looks rather horrible, it is dark (the sun is down, gets completely dark immediately and they’re not big on electricity. Not sure they even have electricity). People are sitting and sleeping on the floor, a cow walking inside the station amongst all the sitting and sleeping people. Waiting on the platform would probably be a little bit more comfortable but completely dark, with bunch of cows eating from garbage cans and beggars not leaving you alone. Kids running after you and trying to touch you. And then I saw it – 1st class waiting room. And behind that – women only 1st class waiting room. Even though it’s possibly the worst waiting room in the world, it is quiet and there’s light. And no one is bothering you. Except mosquitoes. A lot of mosquitoes. And there’s a toilet. Dirty, stinky, horrible toilet, BUT it’s a toilet. See, expectations getting much lower.
Bathi, a very nice gentleman who owns car service business and works for the hotel to pick up guests, was indeed a great guide. Jaipur is called the Pink City because it is actually pink. There’s probably a law that doesn't allow them to paint their houses any other colour. Or to paint them at all – it’s red sandstone colour. Saw lots of nice places, elephants on the streets and heard loads of history lessons from Bathi.
Back at the hotel in the evening, tried to sleep but heard some music outside, walked out to the hotel's garden and walked right into an Indian puppet show. I believe the show had some historical significance and definitely had a story line but I was too far out. Just enjoyed the visuals and the music. Unbelievable how much difference electricity can make and suddenly you don’t go to bed at 7 p.m. !
November 28
Dinner time
I think I am at the nicest restaurant in India. About to have dinner with Bathi so I better put the diary away. He is a very nice man but he shows every sign of someone madly in love which I don't really know what to do with. I think it's time to move on from Jaipur to the next stop.
November 29
Going to the post office to send stuff back home. Bathi helps me to get things done faster. I bought loads of stuff yesterday, silk and shit, have some stuff from Mathura, little Krishna statues, etc. Bought new clothes. Posting home everything I don't need to carry around with me for the rest of the trip. Makes sense and costs pennies. A kind man at the post office carefully wraps everything for me and sticks my home address on the package. Done. Feels nice to have my backpack light again.
Bathi invited me for a beer at his home. I haven't been in an Indian home, so I happilly accepted. His company is delightful. I learn more about their culture and their life than I could have ever learned from any book or tour guide. I also meet his mother.
His home is simple, very very simple. No furniture, everything's on the floor. We sit on the floor. This is how they sit at home. He does have beer, plenty of it. I drink the beer and decline all his presents. Eventually I accept a beautiful scarf he bought for me yesterday when we were shopping. Because it is cold outside and we're going to see the sunset. I thought sunrise is the thing to see in India, but apparently sunsets are also good. There's this fort with a beautiful sunset view over Jaipur city. Can't resist that offer. I ask him if he can drink that much and then drive. He doesn't even understand the question. What drinking has got to do with driving? I feel silly for asking.
November 29
Walked around Jaipur on my own. The first time I had people actually grabbing me to stop me and to get my attention. This hundred years old lady asked for a donation and grabbed me really hard leaving a bruise on my arm, and then yelling something I didn't understand when I didn't give her any money. A large group of kids (teenagers) followed me and cornered me on a narrow dirty street, with no escape, askign for money. Threw coins in the air, let them fight for them while I escaped. It's kinda rough for a pink city. Declined an elephant ride. Poor things look miserable. I mean elephants. I actually miss Bathi's company, but he had to work. I feel tired again. India is like fighting all the time. I need to learn to relax. Wish I had some Agra hash with me now.
So I am at this oasis for rich people. A poolside bar. 700 Rs for a glass of wine. A price I'd pay at a top class restaurant at home. Here it is a millionaire's retreat. The wine is good. Year 2000. Just the right temperature with the just the right snacks. Funny, a glass of wine here costs something like 2 nights stay at a hotel in Agra. Feels good to drink good wine again. Little relapse into civilization.
Bathi is devastated at the thought of me on the train for 17 hours, which is what it would take to get to my next stop – Jaisalmer. He insists that I take his car and his driver. Really??? Trains are painfully slow here, have to admit. What takes 17 hrs on the train probably takes 10 hrs by car. He is totally convinced this is the right way to travel for me, he has found me a good driver, he is sure about this, and I cave. I don't mind one way or the other. I can take the train or I can sit in the car. No difference. I just need to get to Jaisalmer. If it would make him feel better I don't mind, he's been very nice to me. He doesn’t take money from me – he doesn’t let me pay for the ride. No way. And he decided to go with me. Just to sit in the car for 20 hours to get there and to drive back right after. I don't care anymore. I am tired of fighting with people. If he wants to take me to Jaisalmer, he can take me to Jaisalmer.
Jaipur observatory
Shopping mall, Jaipur style
Road to Jaisalmer goes through the Thar desert. We leave at night, it's dark. There's no view through the window, so I drift to sleep. I wake up in few hours, it's close to the morning, I can see the first rays of light somehwere on the horizon. Bathi asks the driver to stop the car, we get outside to stretch our legs, damn cold !!! Feels like 0 C. Suddenly Bathi tells me he isn't going with me any further. He stays here. I look around – I can't see much but it looks like the desert. Nothing. Lots of sand. He says he is not getting back in the car and that the driver will pick him up on the way back. I am too confused to think. Why? Was it something I said while I was sleeping? Bad enough to suffer 20 hours in the car just to take me somewhere (totally unnecessary, as the driver would have done it quite well alone) but to sit for hours in a cold dark desert at night ? He says: “I cannot be in that car any more without offending you with my thoughts. I love and respect you, I cannot do that to you – to think things that aren't appropriate, you will have to forgive me I must stay here.” Major culture shock. I suddenly realise with all the courting and presents and sunsets and dinners and wine, he had never even touched my hand. He hadn't touched me at all. His mind works in a way I don't expect. He genuinely is afraid to hurt me with his thoughts. I can't fight that – I let him stay in the desert, I get in the car and go on my way. I am lost for a solution. Lost for anything I could say or do.
In another few fours I wake up again, just me and the driver. He had stopped. I ask what is it. He says “Tea”. ? Tea. It is a tea break. I get out of the car and see a little tent like structure, right there in the sand, a small bar counter that looks like it's gonna crash down under its own weight any moment. A table and 3 chairs in the sand. A Coca-cola umbrella about to break in the wind. Sunrise about to start. I do honestly feel like I'm in a Tarantino movie. I am served some delicious chai – massala tea with milk. I ask if they have a toilet. A girl appears from somewhere, about 7 or 8 years old, she takes me to a toilet. Amazingly it turns out it's a small village, I just don't see it cause it's still dark. All I see is the bar thing cause the driver has cleverly parked in front of it and left his lights on. I guess not much electricity in the desert. I have troubles describing that thing the girl took me to, but it was a toilet alright. I asked if they have the same kind of toilets at home. She says this is a toilet they use. It's their village's only toilet. They're about 20 people living there, the guy at the bar tells me. I have another chai and we leave.
We have two more tea stops on the road. Each one creepier than the other. People appearing from nowhere bringing you chai. Unplugged fridges with drinks on the side of the road. Desert slowly coming to life.
One of the tea stops at sunrise. It's cold in the desert and people are grumpy. I'm not.
All that during my first 3 or 4 hours in Delhi. At least I didn’t buy that very useful portable magical chess set. I read about it on Indian Mike forums how tourists buy that stupid chess set just to get rid of the guys trying to sell it. It made me smile when I saw the chess guys approaching me. However it didn't even occur to me someone would actually make a fake city centre and create fake maps to match it.
I think my first day in India is over, 5 p.m. and feel like I’ve fought the Word War III.
I fell asleep and dreamed of being in London, being back home, being back at work and drinking beer with Brian Molko. No India in my dreams.I feel ill. I have a bit of a sore throat and fever, and my nose is stuffed. Took a while to realise it’s the air. Impossible to breathe, your throat and lungs are full of Delhi pollution, the heat makes it worse. Being physically and emotionally tired makes it even worser. When I left Delhi it went away.
November 23
Morning. Breakfast. I went to bed at 5 p.m. and didn’t wake up until 10 a.m. this morning when my alarm went off. Still can’t eat here. Coffee and cereal. Can’t imagine touching their egg scramble or any other cooked food. Most tourists at this hotel have suspiciously green faces and someone is vomiting somewhere very loudly all the time.
I feel well. My back is killing me but that’s just because that bed is practically a piece of wood with a sheet over it, might as well sleep on the floor. Must call and book a hotel in Agra. Any hotel. Will try Sheela, many good recommendations on the internet. I don’t think I fancy trying to find a hotel when I arrive, I get there late at night and after what I’ve seen in Delhi I don’t want to deal with that. Must book something.
4 p.m. and I have returned to Pizza Hut for food. I had planned an Indian place but due to some rickshaw problems (or their stubbornness problems?) I ended up here. Don’t fool yourself thinking that you can tell them where you need to go and just get there. You go where they take you. LOL. Eventually I learned to talk their language but not yet. So pizza and beer it is, very Indian. Of course you pay insane money for a meal here. Anything on the street or in a regular local place costs 10 times less than a slice of pizza here or a burger at McDolands. Price you pay for not being harassed and knowing exactly where you are.
Midday. I am at Humayun’s Tomb park. Sitting by a little waterfall. Peace and quiet. Can’t believe it that as soon as you step out of this calm and beautiful garden you find yourself on Delhi streets again.
4 p.m. and I have returned to Pizza Hut for food. I had planned an Indian place but due to some rickshaw problems (or their stubbornness problems?) I ended up here. Don’t fool yourself thinking that you can tell them where you need to go and just get there. You go where they take you. LOL. Eventually I learned to talk their language but not yet. So pizza and beer it is, very Indian. Of course you pay insane money for a meal here. Anything on the street or in a regular local place costs 10 times less than a slice of pizza here or a burger at McDolands. Price you pay for not being harassed and knowing exactly where you are.
So this is what happened – in the morning I walked out of the hotel and got the first rickshaw that approached me. I asked him to take me to Jama Mosjid, a mosque in Old part of Delhi. He said 40 Rs. I knew it’s not enough. I think they just try to catch someone and then they don’t let them go, and pretty much take them where they want to take them. Somehow it works that way. There is another way – tell him where you want to go, tell him you’ll pay more than any commissions he’ll get anywhere on any shit I buy that I do not need, and he sticks with you all day. He gets all day business and good tip, you get a hassle free day, cause he would protect you from others like crazy. Eventually I paid 400 Rs instead of 40 Rs for all day service but you know what? It’s 6 EUR. And you don’t have to worry. Of course that doesn’t mean they still don’t try to trick you into something.
So at Jama Masjid he insisted on waiting for me and didn’t take the money for the ride so far. Jama Masjid was beautiful but what impressed me even more was a view to the Red Fort. I decided to go there but the rickshaw guy advice me to go at 7 p.m. when there’s a light show or something. So I agreed it sounds like a good plan. Next I asked to take me to Qutub Minar. He said I should better go to Humayun’s Tomb. Since it was on my list anyways and I didn’t know a great deal of difference I agreed, and indeed it was a beautiful place. Somehow it started to dawn on me that you just need to relax, wherever you go, chances are you haven’t seen it and it’s gonna be nice. If you get more relaxed about things, so do they. Humayun’s Tomb was another quiet resort right in the middle of Delhi which is basically what I needed. Sitting in peace and quiet, alone, embracing the heat and watching exotic birds in a park.
Inside Jama Masjid
Next my by-then-guide rickshaw suggested a Gandhi home/ museum and I gladly agreed. Gandhi Smriti is where Gandhi spent the last months of his life and where he was assassinated in 1948. Museum with his things and the room just as it was when he lived there didn't impress me much, but then again I am not a museum person. What fasnicated me was the beautiful garden and the white steps in the grass that allowed you to walk in Gandhi's last steps leading to the place where he died and his thoughts and beliefs carved in large stones displayed all over the garden.
Museum was very high tech and modern but I think Gandhi would probably also sit in the garden with me instead...
By the time I was finished with the Gandhi museum I was hungry, so I asked to take me to that restaurant I’ve been trying to get to since yesterday, a very nicely recommended suggestion from Lonely Planet book. There was already a small crowed gathering around our rickshaw, a whole bunch of helpful people who were all suggesting places to go, “you want lunch? You want food? I know the best place” etc. I just had to start yelling again at my rickshaw guy – this place and ONLY THIS PLACE! Still on the way he tried to take me through that famous fake city centre and stopped at some tee shop and said I need to go in just for one minute for free tee, just to taste. I said if he doesn’t get moving and take me to the place where I asked him, I am not paying him anything at all. He said, “OK, OK!” And I still ended up in Pizza Hut.
Evening. Sitting by the Red Fort. On the way here accidently walked into that Gurdwara Bangha Sahib Sikh temple where I wanted to go earlier. It was smaller than I thought, the shiniest thing I’ve ever seen. The man in charge of the temple put a Sikh woman’s headdress on my head and let me walk through the temple. I bumped into their kitchen, they were making bread. Apparently not many tourists happen to wonder in there, they were all a bit shy and definitely excited. They have free food for everyone who asks for it and rooms for anyone who need a place to sleep. They fed me their delicious bread and didn’t take money from me. Astonishing place. Lots of gold and plenty of colours inside the temple.
In the kitchen of Gurdwara Bangha Sahib Sikh temple
10 p.m. and I am back at the hotel. Lesson – DO NOT take an open rickshaw ride at night in the dark unless you are ready to be scared, very scared. I didn’t think about it when I was getting into it, but as soon I sat and he started moving... See, it’s like he is cycling and you are sitting on a shaky open platform with nothing even to hold on to. And you are sitting like that in all the Delhi crazy traffic, with buses and cars and other rickshaws and cows around you. Especially at night, in the dark. He was taking me through some really dark tiny stinky streets full of locals, some scarier than the others, and just ME there which felt like I’m the only female in the world sitting on that shaky thing amongst them all going about their business – eating, talking, pissing, getting haircuts, all at the same place – the streets. And of course cows that you suddenly can not see in the dark, and a rickshaw bumping into them doesn’t feel very nice. Uncomfortable and scary, but definitely an experience I wouldn’t want to miss.
A new discovery – if it says there’s hot water there is hot water, you just have to be very patient. It becomes hot after you run it for about 15 minutes. I had given up and was standing in cold water trying to operate their shower system – a tap and a bucket – to wash my hair with an Indian soap bar, when the water suddenly turned warmer. What a pleasant surprise, up until now I’ve been showering in cold water. Anyways I am leaving tomorrow and I am not coming back.
I’ve been wearing flip flops and after all those temples it feels like I have walked half through Delhi barefoot. Which I probably had. I need a massage, please.
LOL the state of my hair after washing it with whatever I had found at this hotel. It’s not like you can’t buy shampoo here, it’s just that I couldn’t be arsed and my backpack is already too heavy for my liking, I have to carry it around for another 4 weeks on my shoulders.
I am very happy to leave Delhi. Yes, there’s still plenty to see here, all very interesting. But I am just tired of this city, there's too much noise, too many people, not enough air to breathe and too much chaos. Another day would drive me mad.
November 24
7:45 a.m. – on the train to Mathura. It wasn’t easy but I found my train and my train carriage even had my name on the print out list. They have lists of names on each train carriage but getting to them is really challenging. I am glad I’m in the first class carriage cause regular seating room was already crowded 30 minutes before departure, possibly it was already crowded when the train arrived. You know those pictures with people hanging out of windows and doors? They’re real. Price difference for regular and 1st class is 10 Rs vs 500 Rs. I’m happy I even have a chance to pay 500 and not hang outside the window all the way. At the moment I can’t imagine spending an overnight and more on these trains. One of my future rides is 21 hrs. Seriously tempted to fuck it all and book a flight but maybe I need to give it more time. Just that... sleeping on these trains seems very impossible. However I later on prove that impossible is indeed nothing. I did sleep under that dirty old blanket and I did step into that weird shower and I did eat that funny smelling and looking food and I will sleep on the train too.
At the train station there is a huge billboard with hand written train information. There are no directions, no cities, only numbers, no trains from Delhi to Mathura for instance, but there’s a train number 43569892. You have to find your number on that board and figure out what it says where to find it. Highly amusing standing there in front of that huge board like an idiot. A man in a uniform approached me and asked me to show my ticket, I showed him. He said that I need to go an international tickets office to confirm my seat number as there’s no seat number on the ticket. He said to follow him. Silly me, started following. I was fooled by his uniform but of course I don’t know what their uniforms really look like. I also was fooled by his name badge but I of course didn’t read it. When we walked outside of the train station and he pointed to an ‘agency’ across the street and waved me to follow him, looking all business like and official, it suddenly hit me that I read exactly this story on the Internet, on that Indian Mike forum. The train station offices are only inside of the train station, there’s nothing connected with Indian Railways outside of the station. Usually they just convince you trains aren’t safe, keep you there so long you miss your train, and eventually sell you insanely priced taxi rides to wherever you need to go. I yelled at the man thank you and walked back into the station. Of course I didn’t need anything confirmed.
After wondering around for half an hour (you can not stop to think or look around, if you stop they’re all over you again) I found the right tracks and the right train without any help. You just walk somewhere hoping you'll hit it by some miracle. And I did. I found my name written on the passenger list. It was all well. I even had a seat.
First class carriage
First class carriage
The first class carriage has separate private "rooms" inside. It is all empty, 6 or 7 people in total in the entire carriage. All men. They’re all crowded into my room. Whatever. I put my iPod on and let them stare at me for the whole 4 hours. Now and later on whenever needed Sumladfromcov and their brilliant "Painter's Ball" album entertained and calmed me. It was a true soundtrack to that entire trip.
I know why it takes ages to get anywhere. The trains are so slow I’d probably cycle to Mathura faster.
Just passed what looked like a little “village” between the railways. Tents... well, not tents, but pieces of fabric and other stuff, probably whatever you can find laying around, made into sort of tents supported by wood poles/sticks. Some 20 people living there, a place for fire and what looks like a nearby train station’s loo that they use as a bathroom to wash clothes and shower. Train tracks are used as a toilet. Obviously toilet is taken for other things, like laundry.
Another “village” next to it, they live worse than on the streets. Streets seem luxury. They live in huge garbage cans.
I guess it’s a local tradition, railway toilet – three men next to each other squatting down on the actual railways, holding hands. Why on the railways? And what the hell do they do if a train comes? Passing trains obviously don’t bother them much.
Arrived in Mathura. The supposed birth place of Lord Krishna. It seems nice, people are friendly here. But I also suddenly realise away from Delhi they speak less and less English and even if they do I seem to understand them less and less. At the train station I took the first rickshaw who approached me – which they say one should never do – but I’ve had enough hassles in Deli with them and eventually someone would get a hold of me anyways, and having limited time in this city I rather save time than save few rupees.
My guide. He liked being photographed. Other people not so much. I got away with it cause I have this tiny miniature slim camera and some times they didn't realise I'm taking pictures :)
I picked a restaurant from a very limited list of restaurants in Mathura – it is a small place. I showed it to the rickshaw and told him to take me there. He took me to a different place. I said it’s not the one, I really want to go to that other place. He kept repeating “good lunch”. I had to say NO 100 times before they realised I’m really not getting out of the rickshaw anywhere else. So they took me to the restaurant I wanted. Definitely the right choice – a Lord Krishna themed vegetarian restaurant. But I guess everything here is Lord Krishna themed. It’s very nice and cosy. Actually cosiest place I’ve been so far in India. Only no alcohol. Bloody Krishnas!
Saw my first camel on the street, not sure any more if I want to go on that camel safari.
Ohhhh spicy tandoori (potatoes) is so hot. Burning. It did say “spicy” which is average in Indian terms.
I am so enjoying eating in a predominantly vegetarian country. No meat unless you specifically ask for it, and mostly only in hotels or tourist places. Locals are all vegetarians, so are their restaurants. It's a problem abroad in a different culture and language when you have to ask endless questions to avoid meat on your plate. Here I can eat anything they give me and not ask or worry about meat being a part of it.
There, Mathura, the first place that brought me to tears in India. And not in a good way. The disappointment of their totally shameless hungriness for money kills any desire to talk to them, ask them anything, learn anything about them or their life or their culture or their religion. No one cares about Krishna, what this place means to them, but I heard at least 100 times about their donations. It was that place where Lord Krishna rested after killing don’t remember who and they sit you down nicely where Krishna used to sit, infront of these incredible Krishna sculptures, astonishingly looking temple, and you ask them to leave you here for a while, you want to see it for yourself. Instead of leaving you in peace there and letting you see the place they sit around you and wouldn’t shut up about their donations. Learned that some times it’s simply easier to give them money cause it makes them go away so I gave them whatever rupees I had. Not here. They asked if I have any Euros or Dollars. Rupees were not good enough. I said PLEASE leave me alone. They wouldn’t. I gave them Euros that I had in my valet. And they asked for more. I wanted to get up but they were sitting so close in a tight circle around me that I couldn’t leave. I kicked their donation tray and they started collecting the money I had given them from the floor. That allowed me to get up from the floor, I left, practically ran out of the place, got back into the rickshaw that took me there and burst into tears. Because I was so angry and disappointed in humanity at that point. I told the rickshaw guy who was my guide and who was telling me all the way how seriously religious he is and how important this is for him, I told him with all those feeling I had in me at that moment that if they want people to understand and embrace their religion they should stop sucking money out of people and be human beings for one moment and stop bully and scare tourists and almost take cash out of their pockets themselves. And it’s not about the money itself, it’s about their attitude to their own religion and to people who come into their so called temples. I think the guide got my message. He looked ashamed – something I saw for the first time in India. He didn’t say anything, just took me to this other temple, a beautiful huge white marble building, four or five floors high, that I hadn't seen in any tour guides. He turned to me and said “it’s free, you can go in and see what you like”. Of course on every floor they asked me for a donation but they didn’t feel offended if I didn’t give them any, they still smiled at me and showed me the way to the next floor. They let me be, finally. They chanted quietly to themselves, I heard Krishna chants on every floor. Incredible acoustic sound. From the top floor I could see the entire Mathura city. And hear all the chants coming together. And I don’t even know the name of that place.
Lord Krishna, apparently a cool guy, killing his enemies. Kinda camp, too. I like the camp side of Krishna, soft spot in my heart for blue and gold !
Akrura Ghat, one of the bathing ghats at Vrindavan. Supposedly you can get rid of all your sins by bathing here on full moon days. Only creatures I saw bathing there were monkeys though.
Saw my first camel on the street, not sure any more if I want to go on that camel safari.
Ohhhh spicy tandoori (potatoes) is so hot. Burning. It did say “spicy” which is average in Indian terms.
I am so enjoying eating in a predominantly vegetarian country. No meat unless you specifically ask for it, and mostly only in hotels or tourist places. Locals are all vegetarians, so are their restaurants. It's a problem abroad in a different culture and language when you have to ask endless questions to avoid meat on your plate. Here I can eat anything they give me and not ask or worry about meat being a part of it.
There, Mathura, the first place that brought me to tears in India. And not in a good way. The disappointment of their totally shameless hungriness for money kills any desire to talk to them, ask them anything, learn anything about them or their life or their culture or their religion. No one cares about Krishna, what this place means to them, but I heard at least 100 times about their donations. It was that place where Lord Krishna rested after killing don’t remember who and they sit you down nicely where Krishna used to sit, infront of these incredible Krishna sculptures, astonishingly looking temple, and you ask them to leave you here for a while, you want to see it for yourself. Instead of leaving you in peace there and letting you see the place they sit around you and wouldn’t shut up about their donations. Learned that some times it’s simply easier to give them money cause it makes them go away so I gave them whatever rupees I had. Not here. They asked if I have any Euros or Dollars. Rupees were not good enough. I said PLEASE leave me alone. They wouldn’t. I gave them Euros that I had in my valet. And they asked for more. I wanted to get up but they were sitting so close in a tight circle around me that I couldn’t leave. I kicked their donation tray and they started collecting the money I had given them from the floor. That allowed me to get up from the floor, I left, practically ran out of the place, got back into the rickshaw that took me there and burst into tears. Because I was so angry and disappointed in humanity at that point. I told the rickshaw guy who was my guide and who was telling me all the way how seriously religious he is and how important this is for him, I told him with all those feeling I had in me at that moment that if they want people to understand and embrace their religion they should stop sucking money out of people and be human beings for one moment and stop bully and scare tourists and almost take cash out of their pockets themselves. And it’s not about the money itself, it’s about their attitude to their own religion and to people who come into their so called temples. I think the guide got my message. He looked ashamed – something I saw for the first time in India. He didn’t say anything, just took me to this other temple, a beautiful huge white marble building, four or five floors high, that I hadn't seen in any tour guides. He turned to me and said “it’s free, you can go in and see what you like”. Of course on every floor they asked me for a donation but they didn’t feel offended if I didn’t give them any, they still smiled at me and showed me the way to the next floor. They let me be, finally. They chanted quietly to themselves, I heard Krishna chants on every floor. Incredible acoustic sound. From the top floor I could see the entire Mathura city. And hear all the chants coming together. And I don’t even know the name of that place.
Lord Krishna, apparently a cool guy, killing his enemies. Kinda camp, too. I like the camp side of Krishna, soft spot in my heart for blue and gold !
Akrura Ghat, one of the bathing ghats at Vrindavan. Supposedly you can get rid of all your sins by bathing here on full moon days. Only creatures I saw bathing there were monkeys though.
Shelter for women whose husbands have died - those who opten not to step into fire after their men are allowed to live here. Closed community of widows. This is how they live.
My guide in Mathura (and generally everyone I asked to take any pictures) was not very good with the camera. I had to choose between blurry pics taken by somebody else or weirdly posed and awkward self pictures. You decide!
6:30 p.m., I’m done with this city. Sitting at the railway station. 2 hours to my train. At this very moment positive discrimination rocks – women only waiting room!!! The station looks rather horrible, it is dark (the sun is down, gets completely dark immediately and they’re not big on electricity. Not sure they even have electricity). People are sitting and sleeping on the floor, a cow walking inside the station amongst all the sitting and sleeping people. Waiting on the platform would probably be a little bit more comfortable but completely dark, with bunch of cows eating from garbage cans and beggars not leaving you alone. Kids running after you and trying to touch you. And then I saw it – 1st class waiting room. And behind that – women only 1st class waiting room. Even though it’s possibly the worst waiting room in the world, it is quiet and there’s light. And no one is bothering you. Except mosquitoes. A lot of mosquitoes. And there’s a toilet. Dirty, stinky, horrible toilet, BUT it’s a toilet. See, expectations getting much lower.
Go find your train ;-)
I'm glad I came here, to Mathura, to this holy place of Krishna, got my forehead painted in two colours and wore Krishna flowers around my neck. I even kneeled down in front of Lord Krishna at that birthplace temple and touched my forehead to the ground as the locals did. I just wanted to know what it feels like. It felt silly. I got up and realised it didn't feel any different than just standing there and doing nothing. Great revelation and amazing relief. What really captivated me was just sitting there on the floor in the middle of the temple, minding my own business, writing in my diary, listening to their chants and watching them touch their foreheads to the ground. Witnessing how it means something to them. The mood is kinda light and cheerful, there's no dark cloud of guilt and death you feel in Christian churches (or *I* feel in Christian churches). Or maybe it's just the colours, the sun and the smiling people. This is a different kind of a temple, it is considered a national treasure, to go in you need to pass a metal detector and leave all your stuff with the guards. No cameras inside, no mobile phones. No touts. Lots of security. I was pretty much the only foreigner there, most of the people were local tourists, Indian families, all well dressed, smiling and looking wide eyed around them - this temple shines like a gay Christmas tree decorated with hundreds of disco balls.
Ice cold beer in my bag. I asked the rickshaw to take me to a beer shop on the way to the railway station. Actually I saw a beer shop in Delhi yesterday but even I couldn't be that brave. It's kind of a counter out on the street with many men around it making one big mess. Today in Mathura the shop looked much more civilised. Still my rickshaw guy went in with me anyways cause a chance of anyone selling me beer was next to nothing. He also told me not to drink it before I get to my hotel in Agra. I wonder why? Not that it's illegal – he couldn't even tell me if it was actually illegal, it's just something impossible, out of the question, not even close to reality. Completely insane. I have to say I haven't seen many people drinking on the streets, actually none, but I just presumed they don't drink or they can't afford it. I am hesitant to open that bottle cause even asking for it caused quite a stir, guys who were gathered around the rickshaw overheard me (and btw there are always guys around the rickshaw listening in/participating, you don't get much privacy here), they were in shock, giggling with each other and repeating – she wants beer? She wants to BUY BEER? Oh whatever. If they are allowed to piss and shit on the streets, I am allowed to drink wherever I want. There is a cow right outside this waiting room munching on something with her head deep in the garbage can. What the fuck I am worried about? I still have those Krishna things on my forehead. I guess Krishna wouldn't approve. OK, I scratched beer labels off the bottle, that should keep both me and Krishna happy.
Clouds of mosquitos circle around me but I don't feel their bites. I suppose that's good? Are those the famous malaria mosquitos?
Now another struggle to get from Agra train station to Taj Gate and then find hotel Sheela that is supposed to be located 2 minutes walk from East Gate of Taj Mahal.
The thing with Agra is that it is the biggest tourist attraction in India. Bigger than anything in Delhi. Bigger than all of the other tourist attractions put together. I was at first hesitant to go there just to avoid the hassle but being so close and not seeing Taj Mahal seemed silly. The most severe warning of fraud throughout India is right there in Agra. Even tourist groups get frauded, not to mention individual tourists. Not to mention individual tourists arriving alone late at night. I read every fraud warning and decided to follow instructions from Indian Mike forum. Being overcharged is not the problem (with the prices here it never really is), the main problem is not getting where you need or want to get. Getting into a rickshaw and telling a hotel name and address doesn't work. They never take you to that hotel. Or they tell you they do and drop you off at a different hotel. They'll lie to you that your hotel is overbooked, closed, just burnt down or doesn't exist. If you're not careful you'll end up in a different place and only realise that in the morning, being overcharged, often outside of the city, or even staying in someone's family member's room. And according to people who've been there more than once, the only way to avoid being totally screwed over is going to an official prepaid rickshaw booth that is apparently located right outside the train station. Sounds easy but it wasn't.
Nice, my train is going to be 40 minutes late. Now I feel the mosquitos. I have unpacked all my clothing and draped it around any open flesh. Another 30 minutes delay. Another 20. I don't care about mosquitos any more, I just want to be in Agra and at the hotel already.
Wow, lucky, the train came 2 hours late. I was just told it is lucky without any irony. Trains can be 5 or 6 or more hours late. That's why they're not very picky with sleeping on the floors or anywhere they can find a spot at train stations. Used to spending days waiting for a train.
I am in the most expensive carriage. Seat is confirmed and actually very comfortable. Or my standards are dropping faster than I thought. Two Indian women behind me are singing. All I think about is getting out of that train, walking outside the train station, turning right, seeing the prepaid rickshaw booth I am supposed to see and getting to the hotel. And shower.
November 25
Hotel Sheela, Agra
I got to the hotel around midnight last night. I am really getting less and less fussed about practical things, first I was just SO happy to be there instead of listing all the things that were wrong with that room. And there were plenty of things wrong but I had no time for that because as soon as I walked in and put my bag on the floor, electricity went out. Pitch black. I used iPod light to find where the bed is and did not care about anythign else in the world. What kind of bed, clean, dirty, too hard, mattress too thin – not a worry about details. Arhhhh wonders of India. I start getting the whole enlightenment thing.
This is what happened last night. I think I was the only tourist getting off that train in Agra, I didn't see anyone else that looked like a confused tourist. It was late. Men offering their rickshaw services, hotels, tours and everything else you can imagine were already waiting for the train on the platform. They closed in a tight circle around me and followed me, a crowd of men yelling something. I had a hotel booked, all I needed was a rickshaw ride, but I just knew it doesn't work that way. I walked as fast as I could but they ran after me. Literally ran. Halfway out of the station someone else asked if I needed a rickshaw and they chased him away, like I was already somebody's customer. I got angry at this whole idea I am unable to go where I want to go, I ran outside, turned left as I was supposed to but since they were all still in a tight circle around me I did not see any prepaid booth. I saw a fast food joint further up and a police officer next to it. I ran over to him and told him to get those people away from me. The police officer sat me down at a table he had outside of that fast food place – finally something between me and those shouting men, a table! I felt so crowded in, I don't like people so close to me unless I want them to be so close. That distance the table put between us was suddenly so relieving I burst into tears. I just couldn't help it - I was tired, I wanted to get to the hotel and a crowd of men didn't let me. The officer asked me where I need to go. Needless to say the guys didn't leave, they just stood there staring at me, waiting to hear where I need to go. I told him where I need to go, not naming the hotel, cause I didn't want to end up at a different place not knowing it. I just told I need to get to the East Gate of Taj Mahal, and was determined to find the hotel myself from there. The officer pointed to a prepaid rickshaw booth – I had run right past it. Anger is never a good idea.
I walked up there and all those guys who've been following me, they all went into that booth, crowded it to the roof and tried to sell me a ticket. I said fuck off, you've annoyed me so much not a chance I am getting into any of your rickshaws. I am sorry I am the only one here you can rip off tonight but it's not gonna happen. Suddenly their English turned much better and they explained to me that I can go over to another police officer and he'll sell me that prepaid ticket and will make sure I get where I need to get. Right, the police officer they pointed at had the same fake uniform and a badge I saw in Delhi train station. I walked away to calm down and think. The crowd of the most annoying people in the world stayed in the booth. One guy kept following me, I turned around and yelled at him as loud as I could “Stop fucking following me!” He suddenly looked scared and disappeared. Eventually I found a real policeman who sold me a real prepaid rickshaw ticket that had my destination written on it and I was finally convinced I'll get to that bloody East Gate. Rickshaws or any other transport are not allowed into Taj Mahal area where the hotel was, I had to find it myself from the East Gate, it's as far as any rickshaw could take me anyway.
When I finally got to the East Gate the rickshaw asked me if I really knew where I was going, that there are no hotels here. Not again. I just asked if it was East Gate road and he said yes, it is East Gate road. Well, it wasn't. He could have told me that I need to turn right to get on the East Gate road, but he didn't. He just yelled after me that there are two hotels Sheela in Agra and how do I know I've got the right one and just in case he'll stay there for 10 minutes in case they don't have a room and then he'll take me to a “good hotel”. I just walked away. He could have pointed out where I need to go, but instead he hoped I wouldn't find it and come back. Well I was determined. So determined that I passed the Taj Gates and didn't even look at Taj Mahal.
It was a cold and foggy night, completely dark streets, no streets lights whatsoever, but somehow I figured out I need to turn that street. I heard people talking but it was so dark I couldn't see if they are on the other side of the street or they're in the bushes, surreal feeling of walking somewhere blindly. However I was right to turn that street, soon I saw a sign for hotel Sheela. Lucky me not getting there 10 minutes laters when the lights went down, would have never found it without that Sheela sign light.
Their garden is very beautiful in daylight but at night, without a single light, it's a nightmare to walk through. I somehow reached the reception, stepping in or on god knows what on the way, didn't care. The man at the reception was really nice and even had my reservation. Damn that took a lot of energy, nerves and time.
So the room. At a first glance (that lasted about 3 seconds) I was just happy to be there and see a bed. Any bed. However... I guess I haven't counted on SO low budget. No hot water – OK, fine. No towels. Well... No soap or anything like that. No electrical sockets anywhere in the room – now that shocks me, how are you supposed to charge a camera or a phone? On the other hand why do you need a phone and really, maybe electrical sockets are useless considering there's no electricity anyways most of the day? The bed pretty much the same as in Delhi – a wooden bed and a thin matress over it. Pillows feel wooden too. But no, I checked. A slice of parolone. A blanket definitely needs some cleaning, well, once in 5 years would be fine. BUT I do have a real window here, and it goes out to the garden! Also, walls seem to be paper thin – I can hear someone in the next room breathing. Just breathing.
Well once you leave the room it is just perfect. People are friendly, the garden is breathtaking, and it is quiet. No traffic outside cause it is so close to Taj Majal. This garden is a like an oasis right under the Taj Gates, hidden away.
My "desk" in the garden. What looks like nothing in the background is actually an entrance to my room. My neighbour's washing.
I went outside to see where I actually am and touts really seem to be extra persuasive in this city. They literally yell at you from everywhere. A horse carriage nearly run me over – the horse passed right by but the carriage hit my hip really painfully. Lunatics!
Taj Mahal is closed on Fridays (for no reason that I would know) and it is Friday, so I won't see it till tomorrow. I don't mind at all, I will gladly spend all my day at this garden.
This hotel costs 5 EUR per night. After a lazy morning here, I do not mind anything that's wrong with it, not at all. I bring my camera to charge to the reception. Not a big deal.
Sunny and hot. Birds are singing. Life is beautiful. I put my feet up on a chair. Flies are impossibly irritating but I am too lazy to move. I only had water and coffee for breakfast even though I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch.
Hotel staff is amazingly friendly and nice. I asked if it's OK if I just sleep here in the garden during the day, they said I should do whatever I want because I am home.
Second coffee. I am tempted not to leave this garden at all, not until I have to fly back home. Screw everything else. I hear strange bird songs, sounds I've never heard before. I bet there are many beautiful birds and other creatures I haven't yet seen. All I've seen so far are cows (lots of them), pigs and camels. I guess I'll take the Taj Nature walk later.
Agra
3 p.m., finally getting hungry. Not in the mood to leave, so having lunch at the hotel.
Damn, the food is good. Much much cheaper than in Delhi and a lot better. Spicy as hell!
I am back in the garden with a beer, a book and a diary. You can buy beer at the hotel, just that (to local standards) it is very expensive and you have to specifically ask for it, it's not on the menu. But they keep their only fridge full (that is, when the fridge is working ;)) for thirsty tourists.
The sun is going down and it is getting colder. Feels good, been in the burning sun all day.
Birds here are amazing. I bought mosquito repellant at the hotel and as a bonus they gave me soap for free. I think the best is yet to come in this country.
There are two small companies in the garden, discussing their experiences. Apparently everyone hates Delhi at first. Everyone hates India at first. Everyone gets a sore throat and stuffed nosed from the pollution. And of course touts are souring everyone's trip. Yet everyone agrees that you get used to this country and then it becomes beautiful. Suddenly it blooms in front of your eyes when you get over yourself.
Funny, I look around and everyone is writing something. Emotions overwhelm you here, if you don't write it down, you won't remember.
I am setting an alarm for 5:45 cause it's a must to see Taj Mahal at sunrise. Or so everyone says.
View to Taj Mahal over the Taj Nature trail. Magnificent. And yes I walked the entire trail.
Yes, I don't know what that is either!
November 26
Didn't have any problems getting up, electricity went out again at 8 o'clock, it was completely dark and I went to bed.
Taj Mahal. Majestic, yes. Breathtaking. I could have probably lived without the sunrise though. But what's the heck, I had nothing better to do anyways at 6 a.m.
I figured out why people in India are up and greeting the sun when the sun actually rises. Because if there's no electricity, you are probably not up later than 6 ot 7 p.m., it gets dark immediately when the sun goes down and everyone just goes to sleep. Makes so much sense.
There, the mandatory shot in front of that universal symbol of eternal love. It is also a mausoleum and a stunning piece of architecture.
Families :)
The most stunning thing is that the building is a mirror reflection of itself no matter from which side you look at it - that is really impressive. And of course geometrically perfect crystal clear reflections in the water. Very cool. The sunrise thing is more for a show – the sun goes up, the building changes colours. I believe all buildings change colours if you wake up early enough. Yet I didn't know that and if I hadn't made it to the Taj Mahal at 6 a.m. and witnessed how it turns from white to yello to pink and back to white I would probably think for the rest of my life I've missed some kind of a miracle. Now I know. Also it helped to be there early to see it all cause that's obviously the only time when you can see it clearly. The pollution! During the day it is wrapped in smog.
11 a.m. I am in Relax Rooftop Restaurant. That's actually the name of the restaurant. And it is quite relaxed. Also the only place in entire Agra that would serve me beer that early without too many questions. Service oriented. People here have obviously seen more tourists and are less easy to shock.
Walk around Agra was actually nice. Loud. But once you get off the tourist track, turn a corner or two and walk away from Taj Mahal area, people stop trying to sell you things and get human with you. Some stared, some just said hello, some looked really shocked, some said Hare Krishna, some asked about my Sikh headdress (damn hot, and it was the only thing I had to put over my head to avoid sunstroke). So, lots of stares, a million hellos, all of them friendly. I felt safe and welcome. Finally getting to see real people. The cultural shock is of course astonishing. There is no privacy in their culture. No secrets. No sensitive questions. They are direct, not knowing they are direct. Cause they know nothing else.
Local food
The best food you'll ever get in India is the food they sell on the streets. It's the food they eat themselves, it is funny looking, cooked right there on the street, questionable in hygiene and costs nothing, literally nothing. Tourists that travel in groups are not even allowed to come near these food stands. Every tourist guide tells you not to eat any of that. But sometimes safety is overrated. Yes this food is probably not cooked and stored according to our standards. But if you’ve been in India for over a week and haven’t died of stomach issues already, I believe this won’t kill you either. So I braved the street food. Lucky again to be in all vegetarian country – since I can’t really explain what I want and they can’t really explain to me what’s what, I pointed at some bizarre looking stuff that looked good to me and I ate it. It was amazing. I paid an equivalent of 1 Euro cent for the stuff, and I am sure I got overcharged as a foreigner.
The most usual questions are “are you married”, “how big is your family”, “how many brothers/sisters you have”, “ how many children”. If an answer to any of the questions is something unusual for them, they never hesitate to ask “why”. So I had to answer why I am not married on every corner. I had to answer for my parents why I only have one sister, what's wrong with my family to only have two children? They did not understand my answers no matter what I said – they just can't comprehend the idea of not getting married at 13 and not having at least 10 children. No sarcasm whatsoever, they really don't.
This rooftop bar is awesome. Monkeys are everywhere – on trees, on rooftops, everywhere. Locals don't find it amusing at all, monkeys to them are something like pigeons to us. They are surprised I want to take pictures of monkeys. What for?
6 p.m., Agra train station. Waiting for my train to Jaipur.
Bought a ring and a bracelet from a nice jewelry shop the Relaxed Rooftop guy suggested me. While I was waiting for the ring to be adjusted to my size the owner rolled a joint and we smoked some good stuff. I think I start to really relax into India. My train is of course late but right now it only makes me grin silly.
November 27
Jaipur
Umaid Bhawan hotel
I can not even express how happy I was when I saw this room. Real hotel room, real shower, decent bed lining so I finally don't have to sleep dressed. Soap and toilet paper. Need I say more?
Breakfast at the hotel's rooftop restaurant. Everything is rooftop here. The sun is so bright I have tears in my eyes, even through sunglasses. Once again not eaten since yesterday's lunch, in between got stoned and drunk a few times. This breakfast could be the best breakfast of my life so far. Boiled eggs.
OMG real bed! However I have to say I got used to the hard sleeping surfaces, after the first few days of uncomfort it didn't bother me any more.
Sunny roof terrace breakfast. I'm all teary eyed all the time cause the sun is too bright.
Clouds of mosquitos circle around me but I don't feel their bites. I suppose that's good? Are those the famous malaria mosquitos?
Now another struggle to get from Agra train station to Taj Gate and then find hotel Sheela that is supposed to be located 2 minutes walk from East Gate of Taj Mahal.
The thing with Agra is that it is the biggest tourist attraction in India. Bigger than anything in Delhi. Bigger than all of the other tourist attractions put together. I was at first hesitant to go there just to avoid the hassle but being so close and not seeing Taj Mahal seemed silly. The most severe warning of fraud throughout India is right there in Agra. Even tourist groups get frauded, not to mention individual tourists. Not to mention individual tourists arriving alone late at night. I read every fraud warning and decided to follow instructions from Indian Mike forum. Being overcharged is not the problem (with the prices here it never really is), the main problem is not getting where you need or want to get. Getting into a rickshaw and telling a hotel name and address doesn't work. They never take you to that hotel. Or they tell you they do and drop you off at a different hotel. They'll lie to you that your hotel is overbooked, closed, just burnt down or doesn't exist. If you're not careful you'll end up in a different place and only realise that in the morning, being overcharged, often outside of the city, or even staying in someone's family member's room. And according to people who've been there more than once, the only way to avoid being totally screwed over is going to an official prepaid rickshaw booth that is apparently located right outside the train station. Sounds easy but it wasn't.
Nice, my train is going to be 40 minutes late. Now I feel the mosquitos. I have unpacked all my clothing and draped it around any open flesh. Another 30 minutes delay. Another 20. I don't care about mosquitos any more, I just want to be in Agra and at the hotel already.
Wow, lucky, the train came 2 hours late. I was just told it is lucky without any irony. Trains can be 5 or 6 or more hours late. That's why they're not very picky with sleeping on the floors or anywhere they can find a spot at train stations. Used to spending days waiting for a train.
I am in the most expensive carriage. Seat is confirmed and actually very comfortable. Or my standards are dropping faster than I thought. Two Indian women behind me are singing. All I think about is getting out of that train, walking outside the train station, turning right, seeing the prepaid rickshaw booth I am supposed to see and getting to the hotel. And shower.
November 25
Hotel Sheela, Agra
I got to the hotel around midnight last night. I am really getting less and less fussed about practical things, first I was just SO happy to be there instead of listing all the things that were wrong with that room. And there were plenty of things wrong but I had no time for that because as soon as I walked in and put my bag on the floor, electricity went out. Pitch black. I used iPod light to find where the bed is and did not care about anythign else in the world. What kind of bed, clean, dirty, too hard, mattress too thin – not a worry about details. Arhhhh wonders of India. I start getting the whole enlightenment thing.
This is what happened last night. I think I was the only tourist getting off that train in Agra, I didn't see anyone else that looked like a confused tourist. It was late. Men offering their rickshaw services, hotels, tours and everything else you can imagine were already waiting for the train on the platform. They closed in a tight circle around me and followed me, a crowd of men yelling something. I had a hotel booked, all I needed was a rickshaw ride, but I just knew it doesn't work that way. I walked as fast as I could but they ran after me. Literally ran. Halfway out of the station someone else asked if I needed a rickshaw and they chased him away, like I was already somebody's customer. I got angry at this whole idea I am unable to go where I want to go, I ran outside, turned left as I was supposed to but since they were all still in a tight circle around me I did not see any prepaid booth. I saw a fast food joint further up and a police officer next to it. I ran over to him and told him to get those people away from me. The police officer sat me down at a table he had outside of that fast food place – finally something between me and those shouting men, a table! I felt so crowded in, I don't like people so close to me unless I want them to be so close. That distance the table put between us was suddenly so relieving I burst into tears. I just couldn't help it - I was tired, I wanted to get to the hotel and a crowd of men didn't let me. The officer asked me where I need to go. Needless to say the guys didn't leave, they just stood there staring at me, waiting to hear where I need to go. I told him where I need to go, not naming the hotel, cause I didn't want to end up at a different place not knowing it. I just told I need to get to the East Gate of Taj Mahal, and was determined to find the hotel myself from there. The officer pointed to a prepaid rickshaw booth – I had run right past it. Anger is never a good idea.
I walked up there and all those guys who've been following me, they all went into that booth, crowded it to the roof and tried to sell me a ticket. I said fuck off, you've annoyed me so much not a chance I am getting into any of your rickshaws. I am sorry I am the only one here you can rip off tonight but it's not gonna happen. Suddenly their English turned much better and they explained to me that I can go over to another police officer and he'll sell me that prepaid ticket and will make sure I get where I need to get. Right, the police officer they pointed at had the same fake uniform and a badge I saw in Delhi train station. I walked away to calm down and think. The crowd of the most annoying people in the world stayed in the booth. One guy kept following me, I turned around and yelled at him as loud as I could “Stop fucking following me!” He suddenly looked scared and disappeared. Eventually I found a real policeman who sold me a real prepaid rickshaw ticket that had my destination written on it and I was finally convinced I'll get to that bloody East Gate. Rickshaws or any other transport are not allowed into Taj Mahal area where the hotel was, I had to find it myself from the East Gate, it's as far as any rickshaw could take me anyway.
When I finally got to the East Gate the rickshaw asked me if I really knew where I was going, that there are no hotels here. Not again. I just asked if it was East Gate road and he said yes, it is East Gate road. Well, it wasn't. He could have told me that I need to turn right to get on the East Gate road, but he didn't. He just yelled after me that there are two hotels Sheela in Agra and how do I know I've got the right one and just in case he'll stay there for 10 minutes in case they don't have a room and then he'll take me to a “good hotel”. I just walked away. He could have pointed out where I need to go, but instead he hoped I wouldn't find it and come back. Well I was determined. So determined that I passed the Taj Gates and didn't even look at Taj Mahal.
It was a cold and foggy night, completely dark streets, no streets lights whatsoever, but somehow I figured out I need to turn that street. I heard people talking but it was so dark I couldn't see if they are on the other side of the street or they're in the bushes, surreal feeling of walking somewhere blindly. However I was right to turn that street, soon I saw a sign for hotel Sheela. Lucky me not getting there 10 minutes laters when the lights went down, would have never found it without that Sheela sign light.
Their garden is very beautiful in daylight but at night, without a single light, it's a nightmare to walk through. I somehow reached the reception, stepping in or on god knows what on the way, didn't care. The man at the reception was really nice and even had my reservation. Damn that took a lot of energy, nerves and time.
So the room. At a first glance (that lasted about 3 seconds) I was just happy to be there and see a bed. Any bed. However... I guess I haven't counted on SO low budget. No hot water – OK, fine. No towels. Well... No soap or anything like that. No electrical sockets anywhere in the room – now that shocks me, how are you supposed to charge a camera or a phone? On the other hand why do you need a phone and really, maybe electrical sockets are useless considering there's no electricity anyways most of the day? The bed pretty much the same as in Delhi – a wooden bed and a thin matress over it. Pillows feel wooden too. But no, I checked. A slice of parolone. A blanket definitely needs some cleaning, well, once in 5 years would be fine. BUT I do have a real window here, and it goes out to the garden! Also, walls seem to be paper thin – I can hear someone in the next room breathing. Just breathing.
Well once you leave the room it is just perfect. People are friendly, the garden is breathtaking, and it is quiet. No traffic outside cause it is so close to Taj Majal. This garden is a like an oasis right under the Taj Gates, hidden away.
My "desk" in the garden. What looks like nothing in the background is actually an entrance to my room. My neighbour's washing.
I went outside to see where I actually am and touts really seem to be extra persuasive in this city. They literally yell at you from everywhere. A horse carriage nearly run me over – the horse passed right by but the carriage hit my hip really painfully. Lunatics!
Taj Mahal is closed on Fridays (for no reason that I would know) and it is Friday, so I won't see it till tomorrow. I don't mind at all, I will gladly spend all my day at this garden.
This hotel costs 5 EUR per night. After a lazy morning here, I do not mind anything that's wrong with it, not at all. I bring my camera to charge to the reception. Not a big deal.
Sunny and hot. Birds are singing. Life is beautiful. I put my feet up on a chair. Flies are impossibly irritating but I am too lazy to move. I only had water and coffee for breakfast even though I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch.
Hotel staff is amazingly friendly and nice. I asked if it's OK if I just sleep here in the garden during the day, they said I should do whatever I want because I am home.
Second coffee. I am tempted not to leave this garden at all, not until I have to fly back home. Screw everything else. I hear strange bird songs, sounds I've never heard before. I bet there are many beautiful birds and other creatures I haven't yet seen. All I've seen so far are cows (lots of them), pigs and camels. I guess I'll take the Taj Nature walk later.
Agra
3 p.m., finally getting hungry. Not in the mood to leave, so having lunch at the hotel.
Damn, the food is good. Much much cheaper than in Delhi and a lot better. Spicy as hell!
I am back in the garden with a beer, a book and a diary. You can buy beer at the hotel, just that (to local standards) it is very expensive and you have to specifically ask for it, it's not on the menu. But they keep their only fridge full (that is, when the fridge is working ;)) for thirsty tourists.
The sun is going down and it is getting colder. Feels good, been in the burning sun all day.
Birds here are amazing. I bought mosquito repellant at the hotel and as a bonus they gave me soap for free. I think the best is yet to come in this country.
There are two small companies in the garden, discussing their experiences. Apparently everyone hates Delhi at first. Everyone hates India at first. Everyone gets a sore throat and stuffed nosed from the pollution. And of course touts are souring everyone's trip. Yet everyone agrees that you get used to this country and then it becomes beautiful. Suddenly it blooms in front of your eyes when you get over yourself.
Funny, I look around and everyone is writing something. Emotions overwhelm you here, if you don't write it down, you won't remember.
I am setting an alarm for 5:45 cause it's a must to see Taj Mahal at sunrise. Or so everyone says.
View to Taj Mahal over the Taj Nature trail. Magnificent. And yes I walked the entire trail.
Yes, I don't know what that is either!
November 26
Didn't have any problems getting up, electricity went out again at 8 o'clock, it was completely dark and I went to bed.
Taj Mahal. Majestic, yes. Breathtaking. I could have probably lived without the sunrise though. But what's the heck, I had nothing better to do anyways at 6 a.m.
I figured out why people in India are up and greeting the sun when the sun actually rises. Because if there's no electricity, you are probably not up later than 6 ot 7 p.m., it gets dark immediately when the sun goes down and everyone just goes to sleep. Makes so much sense.
There, the mandatory shot in front of that universal symbol of eternal love. It is also a mausoleum and a stunning piece of architecture.
Families :)
The most stunning thing is that the building is a mirror reflection of itself no matter from which side you look at it - that is really impressive. And of course geometrically perfect crystal clear reflections in the water. Very cool. The sunrise thing is more for a show – the sun goes up, the building changes colours. I believe all buildings change colours if you wake up early enough. Yet I didn't know that and if I hadn't made it to the Taj Mahal at 6 a.m. and witnessed how it turns from white to yello to pink and back to white I would probably think for the rest of my life I've missed some kind of a miracle. Now I know. Also it helped to be there early to see it all cause that's obviously the only time when you can see it clearly. The pollution! During the day it is wrapped in smog.
11 a.m. I am in Relax Rooftop Restaurant. That's actually the name of the restaurant. And it is quite relaxed. Also the only place in entire Agra that would serve me beer that early without too many questions. Service oriented. People here have obviously seen more tourists and are less easy to shock.
Walk around Agra was actually nice. Loud. But once you get off the tourist track, turn a corner or two and walk away from Taj Mahal area, people stop trying to sell you things and get human with you. Some stared, some just said hello, some looked really shocked, some said Hare Krishna, some asked about my Sikh headdress (damn hot, and it was the only thing I had to put over my head to avoid sunstroke). So, lots of stares, a million hellos, all of them friendly. I felt safe and welcome. Finally getting to see real people. The cultural shock is of course astonishing. There is no privacy in their culture. No secrets. No sensitive questions. They are direct, not knowing they are direct. Cause they know nothing else.
Local food
The best food you'll ever get in India is the food they sell on the streets. It's the food they eat themselves, it is funny looking, cooked right there on the street, questionable in hygiene and costs nothing, literally nothing. Tourists that travel in groups are not even allowed to come near these food stands. Every tourist guide tells you not to eat any of that. But sometimes safety is overrated. Yes this food is probably not cooked and stored according to our standards. But if you’ve been in India for over a week and haven’t died of stomach issues already, I believe this won’t kill you either. So I braved the street food. Lucky again to be in all vegetarian country – since I can’t really explain what I want and they can’t really explain to me what’s what, I pointed at some bizarre looking stuff that looked good to me and I ate it. It was amazing. I paid an equivalent of 1 Euro cent for the stuff, and I am sure I got overcharged as a foreigner.
The most usual questions are “are you married”, “how big is your family”, “how many brothers/sisters you have”, “ how many children”. If an answer to any of the questions is something unusual for them, they never hesitate to ask “why”. So I had to answer why I am not married on every corner. I had to answer for my parents why I only have one sister, what's wrong with my family to only have two children? They did not understand my answers no matter what I said – they just can't comprehend the idea of not getting married at 13 and not having at least 10 children. No sarcasm whatsoever, they really don't.
This rooftop bar is awesome. Monkeys are everywhere – on trees, on rooftops, everywhere. Locals don't find it amusing at all, monkeys to them are something like pigeons to us. They are surprised I want to take pictures of monkeys. What for?
6 p.m., Agra train station. Waiting for my train to Jaipur.
Bought a ring and a bracelet from a nice jewelry shop the Relaxed Rooftop guy suggested me. While I was waiting for the ring to be adjusted to my size the owner rolled a joint and we smoked some good stuff. I think I start to really relax into India. My train is of course late but right now it only makes me grin silly.
November 27
Jaipur
Umaid Bhawan hotel
I can not even express how happy I was when I saw this room. Real hotel room, real shower, decent bed lining so I finally don't have to sleep dressed. Soap and toilet paper. Need I say more?
Breakfast at the hotel's rooftop restaurant. Everything is rooftop here. The sun is so bright I have tears in my eyes, even through sunglasses. Once again not eaten since yesterday's lunch, in between got stoned and drunk a few times. This breakfast could be the best breakfast of my life so far. Boiled eggs.
OMG real bed! However I have to say I got used to the hard sleeping surfaces, after the first few days of uncomfort it didn't bother me any more.
Sunny roof terrace breakfast. I'm all teary eyed all the time cause the sun is too bright.
This is quite a luxury hotel, and not just compared to the previous ones. They sent a driver to pick me up at the train station. What a relief. I talked to the guy and he seems very nice. I arranged with him that he'd show me Jaipur, in a car, not a rickshaw, so I don't have to breath any more extra pollution on top of my already sore throat and stuffed nosed, at least for a day. Also I hope the guy can tell me where to shop for clothes without hassle, I officially have run out of clothes to wear. With the size of my backpack I only have 2 sets of clothes.
Bathi, a very nice gentleman who owns car service business and works for the hotel to pick up guests, was indeed a great guide. Jaipur is called the Pink City because it is actually pink. There’s probably a law that doesn't allow them to paint their houses any other colour. Or to paint them at all – it’s red sandstone colour. Saw lots of nice places, elephants on the streets and heard loads of history lessons from Bathi.
Monkey temple on a mountain a few kilometers away from Jaipur was the best. I was told it's the second holiest place for Hindus in the world. And it's called something else of course but tourists call it Monkey Temple because there are so many monkeys there you have to literally hold on to your hats and glasses and handbags. They are not all nice and fuzzy and sweet, they’re obnoxious little creatures that jump on your back, scratch you and grab everything they can reach. Amusing.
Back at the hotel in the evening, tried to sleep but heard some music outside, walked out to the hotel's garden and walked right into an Indian puppet show. I believe the show had some historical significance and definitely had a story line but I was too far out. Just enjoyed the visuals and the music. Unbelievable how much difference electricity can make and suddenly you don’t go to bed at 7 p.m. !
November 28
Dinner time
I think I am at the nicest restaurant in India. About to have dinner with Bathi so I better put the diary away. He is a very nice man but he shows every sign of someone madly in love which I don't really know what to do with. I think it's time to move on from Jaipur to the next stop.
November 29
Going to the post office to send stuff back home. Bathi helps me to get things done faster. I bought loads of stuff yesterday, silk and shit, have some stuff from Mathura, little Krishna statues, etc. Bought new clothes. Posting home everything I don't need to carry around with me for the rest of the trip. Makes sense and costs pennies. A kind man at the post office carefully wraps everything for me and sticks my home address on the package. Done. Feels nice to have my backpack light again.
Bathi invited me for a beer at his home. I haven't been in an Indian home, so I happilly accepted. His company is delightful. I learn more about their culture and their life than I could have ever learned from any book or tour guide. I also meet his mother.
His home is simple, very very simple. No furniture, everything's on the floor. We sit on the floor. This is how they sit at home. He does have beer, plenty of it. I drink the beer and decline all his presents. Eventually I accept a beautiful scarf he bought for me yesterday when we were shopping. Because it is cold outside and we're going to see the sunset. I thought sunrise is the thing to see in India, but apparently sunsets are also good. There's this fort with a beautiful sunset view over Jaipur city. Can't resist that offer. I ask him if he can drink that much and then drive. He doesn't even understand the question. What drinking has got to do with driving? I feel silly for asking.
November 29
Walked around Jaipur on my own. The first time I had people actually grabbing me to stop me and to get my attention. This hundred years old lady asked for a donation and grabbed me really hard leaving a bruise on my arm, and then yelling something I didn't understand when I didn't give her any money. A large group of kids (teenagers) followed me and cornered me on a narrow dirty street, with no escape, askign for money. Threw coins in the air, let them fight for them while I escaped. It's kinda rough for a pink city. Declined an elephant ride. Poor things look miserable. I mean elephants. I actually miss Bathi's company, but he had to work. I feel tired again. India is like fighting all the time. I need to learn to relax. Wish I had some Agra hash with me now.
Don't we all need those - wisdom classes!
So I am at this oasis for rich people. A poolside bar. 700 Rs for a glass of wine. A price I'd pay at a top class restaurant at home. Here it is a millionaire's retreat. The wine is good. Year 2000. Just the right temperature with the just the right snacks. Funny, a glass of wine here costs something like 2 nights stay at a hotel in Agra. Feels good to drink good wine again. Little relapse into civilization.
Bathi is devastated at the thought of me on the train for 17 hours, which is what it would take to get to my next stop – Jaisalmer. He insists that I take his car and his driver. Really??? Trains are painfully slow here, have to admit. What takes 17 hrs on the train probably takes 10 hrs by car. He is totally convinced this is the right way to travel for me, he has found me a good driver, he is sure about this, and I cave. I don't mind one way or the other. I can take the train or I can sit in the car. No difference. I just need to get to Jaisalmer. If it would make him feel better I don't mind, he's been very nice to me. He doesn’t take money from me – he doesn’t let me pay for the ride. No way. And he decided to go with me. Just to sit in the car for 20 hours to get there and to drive back right after. I don't care anymore. I am tired of fighting with people. If he wants to take me to Jaisalmer, he can take me to Jaisalmer.
Shopping at a silk factory
Shopping mall, Jaipur style
Road to Jaisalmer goes through the Thar desert. We leave at night, it's dark. There's no view through the window, so I drift to sleep. I wake up in few hours, it's close to the morning, I can see the first rays of light somehwere on the horizon. Bathi asks the driver to stop the car, we get outside to stretch our legs, damn cold !!! Feels like 0 C. Suddenly Bathi tells me he isn't going with me any further. He stays here. I look around – I can't see much but it looks like the desert. Nothing. Lots of sand. He says he is not getting back in the car and that the driver will pick him up on the way back. I am too confused to think. Why? Was it something I said while I was sleeping? Bad enough to suffer 20 hours in the car just to take me somewhere (totally unnecessary, as the driver would have done it quite well alone) but to sit for hours in a cold dark desert at night ? He says: “I cannot be in that car any more without offending you with my thoughts. I love and respect you, I cannot do that to you – to think things that aren't appropriate, you will have to forgive me I must stay here.” Major culture shock. I suddenly realise with all the courting and presents and sunsets and dinners and wine, he had never even touched my hand. He hadn't touched me at all. His mind works in a way I don't expect. He genuinely is afraid to hurt me with his thoughts. I can't fight that – I let him stay in the desert, I get in the car and go on my way. I am lost for a solution. Lost for anything I could say or do.
In another few fours I wake up again, just me and the driver. He had stopped. I ask what is it. He says “Tea”. ? Tea. It is a tea break. I get out of the car and see a little tent like structure, right there in the sand, a small bar counter that looks like it's gonna crash down under its own weight any moment. A table and 3 chairs in the sand. A Coca-cola umbrella about to break in the wind. Sunrise about to start. I do honestly feel like I'm in a Tarantino movie. I am served some delicious chai – massala tea with milk. I ask if they have a toilet. A girl appears from somewhere, about 7 or 8 years old, she takes me to a toilet. Amazingly it turns out it's a small village, I just don't see it cause it's still dark. All I see is the bar thing cause the driver has cleverly parked in front of it and left his lights on. I guess not much electricity in the desert. I have troubles describing that thing the girl took me to, but it was a toilet alright. I asked if they have the same kind of toilets at home. She says this is a toilet they use. It's their village's only toilet. They're about 20 people living there, the guy at the bar tells me. I have another chai and we leave.
We have two more tea stops on the road. Each one creepier than the other. People appearing from nowhere bringing you chai. Unplugged fridges with drinks on the side of the road. Desert slowly coming to life.
My fancy ride. The best car they've got.
Hotel's rooftop terrace with a view to the Old Fort
When I finally make it to the room, it is a piece of art rather than just a room. It's pure sandstone carving. Unfortunately the bed is also a sandstone thing but I'm already used to the hard surfaces they call beds, my back is not bothering me anymore, at least I have no complaints about this bed after the night in the car. There's a window with a cozy pillowed window sill seat, facing my pig garden.
Hotel room
December 1
November 30
Jaisalmer. Shahi Palace hotel. Rooftop restaurant.
Why did I even waste time anywhere else? Why didn't I come straight here to this place? This is the India I came for. I get tearful at how beautiful this is. It feels like everything before just a journey to get there and I have finally arrived. I know I will come back to this country. It's that feeling when you want to bring all your friends to this place one day and share it with them. I sit on this rooftop in Jaisalmer, looking at the Old Fort and listening to Indian music from somewhere afar.
It's very hot here, Very hot. Literally middle of the desert. When I woke up this morning in the car the first thing I saw outside the window were camels. Not the ones you ride in your desert safari. Wild camels. Thin, dirty, scared, running away from cars. Full desert of wild camels. And then suddenly this Old Fort appeared in front of me – in the middle of the desert a city is built from sand stone. It is also called the Golden City. And I can see why. Breathtaking view.
The heat and sunshine literally burns you on this rooftop. The fort looks so ... ancient ! I hide from the sun in my panjabi's scarf, head and face wrapped, and even through the silk I feel myself burning. Beyond the Old Fort there's desert out there as far as you can see.
Jaisalmer. Shahi Palace hotel. Rooftop restaurant.
Why did I even waste time anywhere else? Why didn't I come straight here to this place? This is the India I came for. I get tearful at how beautiful this is. It feels like everything before just a journey to get there and I have finally arrived. I know I will come back to this country. It's that feeling when you want to bring all your friends to this place one day and share it with them. I sit on this rooftop in Jaisalmer, looking at the Old Fort and listening to Indian music from somewhere afar.
It's very hot here, Very hot. Literally middle of the desert. When I woke up this morning in the car the first thing I saw outside the window were camels. Not the ones you ride in your desert safari. Wild camels. Thin, dirty, scared, running away from cars. Full desert of wild camels. And then suddenly this Old Fort appeared in front of me – in the middle of the desert a city is built from sand stone. It is also called the Golden City. And I can see why. Breathtaking view.
The heat and sunshine literally burns you on this rooftop. The fort looks so ... ancient ! I hide from the sun in my panjabi's scarf, head and face wrapped, and even through the silk I feel myself burning. Beyond the Old Fort there's desert out there as far as you can see.
Hotel's rooftop terrace with a view to the Old Fort
When I arrived at the hotel they immediately took me to the rooftop, gave me a drink and told me to relax. In a while I asked the guys at the restaurant about my room. They smiled obviously aware of the view and the effect it has on people who have just arrived and said “don't hurry, don't rush, relax, you're room is here, it's not going anywhere”. I relaxed. I looked down over the edge of the rooftop and I saw pigs in somebody's garden. I watched the pigs and I was completely happy.
My favourite seat on the terrace
My favourite seat on the terrace
When I finally make it to the room, it is a piece of art rather than just a room. It's pure sandstone carving. Unfortunately the bed is also a sandstone thing but I'm already used to the hard surfaces they call beds, my back is not bothering me anymore, at least I have no complaints about this bed after the night in the car. There's a window with a cozy pillowed window sill seat, facing my pig garden.
This travel drains me of all energy. Went to bed at 6 p.m. last night, yep, electricity blackout, of course I was also drunk after 4 beers on that sunny desert terrace, about +40C during the day... Woke up 9 a.m. this morning cause the pigs were making too much noise.
Entrance to the Old Fort
I can't figure out if I am more relaxed or this city is? Or maybe both, and it makes a very nice combination.
It is so hot it's impossible to go out to the city midday. Either early morning or late afternoon. So midday I stay at the hotel, either in my room sitting on that windowsill watching the pigs or reading or on the rooftop hiding in the shadow.
When I do go out in the city I keep being overwhelmed by the bauty of it all - every building, every structure, everything is a piece of art. I enjoy walking around without plan or agenda. Nothing particular I want to see. The city is small and surrounded by high walls of the Fort.
Something's cooking for lunch
View to the desert over the city walls
Met this fella on the steps leading to the top of the city
After the sunset. My second attempt to have dinner. I just walked into the Fort hoping for a dinner at Little Tibet (recommended by many) but I didn't really like it. I walked on and found Free Tibet which looked nice. Food was horrible though. Even rice was not edible. I paid my 80 Rs and left. Moved on and stumbled upon Little Italy. I know, bad. Italian food in India. Except it wasn't really Italian. But they had wine. Not very good, red wine from the fridge. Bet never the less - wine. My mind wondering back to that Rambagh Palace where I had wine with Bathi on my last day in Jaipur. Suppose if you stay in that kind of place you can pretty much escape reality and not even know you are in India. Those ladies in their smart western clothes, knee length skirts and diamond necklaces. Would be a sight to see them walking the streets alone. Without doing that, what's the point? Might as well watch a movie about India. That's as much as you get to see anyways, maybe even less.
Streets of Jaisalmer
Trust English to have a wine and beer shop in India! :)
In this part of India a lot of women cover their faces. Especially in the desert.
Anyways getting ready for that desert safari now. Leaving in about an hour.
Sand dunes. Before sunset.
I am sitting alone in the desert, the 'driver' (camel driver that is) went to the nearby village to get something. I didn't mind, I wanted to be alone for a while. Hope he comes back though – it is windy and sitting down in the same place covers you up to the waist in sand just in few minutes. Sand dunes are shifting like they show in horror movies. Sand is everywhere. Camera lense is not opening cause it's full of sand, this diary is all in sand, I feel like my clothes are made of sandpaper. Next time when I am better equipped and know what to expect I will take 2 days camel safari. It wasn't easy to ride a camel (just cause it's unusual, probably need a few hours to adjust) but I seemed to get along with mine quite well. It is freaky to look down from the camel's back and see your own shadow in the sand. And see nothing else for miles and miles around you. Actually... that is not quite true. At some point I saw two lonely and strange looking tanks somewhere far away. You know, real war tanks. My camel guy said it means that we're very near Pakistan border. To be safe we had to ride at least an hour in the opposite direction to find a place for fire and sunset that isn't anywhere near borderlines.
Wild camels in the desert
Freaky shadows :)
My camel wasn't wild at all, very good natured and beautiful animal.
I am in for a surprise when we settle down and he makes a campfire. He takes 3 joints from his pocket – that's why he went to the village. I must have mentioned to him that I had one in Agra. He wanted to show me Jaisalmer is even more welcoming. The joints are free. I ask how come and he says they are cheap as sand here and not to worry about it. Good stuff, too. One of the best sunsets of my life. We sit and talk till the early hours. I enjoy his company, he speaks English and is very interesting to talk to. He is also cute and really reminds me Cary Shields (why did I suddenly think of him?) He presumes I am rich. I ask why. He says, “you travel!” Hard to argue with that. No one in India even dreams of travelling unless they are filthy rich. It is not a concept a regular working person in India can even grasp that you would want to go to other countries, even other cities, unless you have so much money you just don't know what else to do. I try to explain that I am not rich at all, I just love travelling and pretty much spend all my money on it. He doesn't get it. Spend all your money? So you are rich? Hand to mouth seems to be a normal way of living for him. If there's money to “spend”, you're filthy rich. Nothing in between. I ask how much he makes at the hotel running safari for them. He says he makes 1200 Rs a month. That's 12 Lats. Less than 20 EUR. Per month. He is quite well off he says. He has a place to sleep – he is not living on the streets. He lives in the city (his family lives in one of the desert villages), he has a room and a bed. And he eats 3 meals a day. By the desert village standards, he has made it. I find it hard to shock over anything at that point – he seems a happy man. He smokes with me and we laugh at the obsurdity of the situation – how did the two of us make it here, together, sitting in the dark smoking by a campfire in the Thar desert under the stars, a camel safari guy from Jaisalmer and an economist from Riga. He doesn't know what an economist mean. At that point I don't know either. Why do we even bother with any of that in the western world?
He took me through his old village in the desert where his family still lives. It's a typical Hindu village few hour's drive into the desert. I got invited into his family home and his mother made me tea. Their home is basically four walls made of sand. There's virtually nothing in there. It's all prestine clean though. Walls are made of sand mixed with something that makes it a bit stronger, looks like sand with water, like a very smoothly made big sand castle on the beach. Inside the floors are also made from the same material, looks like sandstone but softer than that. I learn it is called mud hut – indeed the houses are built of mud. There are a few brick buildings in the village or some parts of some houses are brick but those are very expensive so most of the houses are made of mud. I am in one of the mud houses. There is no furniture. Everyone sits on the clean floor. There is a little blanket on the floor for siting. I sit on it. Mother sat next to me on the floor. She started showing me things other tourists have given her. There are two small bottles of shampoo – no one in the village seemed to know what it is. I tell her. She is confused. They have no running water, they live in mud houses. I do admire her awesome shiny beautiful hair, not touched by modern chemical cleansers. They "wash" their hair with some kind of a plant, they mix it with water, put it in hair, then rinse it out. I used to buy it in my local Krishna store (modern export version, obviously, but made from the same plant the same way) and it was just too much trouble - the mixture was dark mud colour, every time I attempted to use it, my bathroom always looked like a mud fight battlefield afterwards. I also admire the way these women dress - the colours are incredible, they walk through the dirt on the ground all day long and their saris never seem to be dirty or worn out, they are always bright, always clean. How is that even possible?
We have arrived to the village where we change from a jeep to camels. Village houses in the background.
Village life
I don't understand what ritual is it that they are performing down there but there is some fire, lots of noise and a lot of people in the dark by the river. I couldn't see them at first but when I stood on the balcony a little longer and my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see that the steps of the ghat are full of people all the way down to the river, some even in the water. All chanting something.
It felt like being in a postcard
Ghats are basically steps leading into the Ganges. Everything, all their lives happen on these steps.
One of the central ghats
Today walking down one of those narrow old town streets I met a funeral procession - a dead body was carried to the burning ghat, its white sheet brushing my shoulder. (The old town streets are about 1 meter wide, no escape). It was tied to a small wooden platform, that platform will be put on the wood already prepared for the fire. I learned during my stay in Varanasi that it takes about 4-5 hours for a body to burn completely. It takes more time for a man to burn than for a woman.
So this coffee is more like warm milk with a little nescafe flavour. Pointless as far as coffee is concerned. But will do for now. I just wanted to sit down. I've walked out of my hotel at 6:40 a.m. and walked by the ghats for couple of hours. On the way witnessed life going on in Varanasi - one corpse ready to be burnt, lots of people going on about their business, washing themselves, their laundry, their children and their animals in the river. Kids selling postcards. Fewer touts than I expected. Peaceful. I bought a t-shirt that says "No boat. No silk. No hashish. No money. No Problems." It makes people smile.
The Ganges is really beautiful at sunrise. The river glows in gentle pinkish light.
I walked up to the main burning ghat. Right next to my hotel. I watched them place a dead body on the wood, put some wood over it, too. They were very business-like about it. No crying, no obvious mourning. Just burning of dead bodies.
Body, tied in white sheet, under the wood and ready to be burned
"Always be happy" man
Surprisingly few tourists here. You see some foreigners walking buy the ghats but if you wonder into the city or walk narrow streets of the old town, you're on your own. Locals stare at you all the time. Not in a bad or offensive way. Just curious. Children stare and laugh. In a friendly way. Have yet to see an aggressive or angry person in this city.
Does this say anything but PEACE to you?
Many tour guides say it's dangerous to walk by the ghats on your own. I walked by the ghats all the time. The only scary moment is walking in the dark when the electricity is out cause you do risk tripping over a cow or a goat or stepping on a broken step and falling into the Ganges (which I really wouldn't recommend!) Boatmen really don't offer you their rides more than twice if you just say firm "no". Of course, even a little hesitation in your voice and you'll end up with a boat ride whether you want it or not. Expensive lesson.
Electricity blackouts here are so bad you're lucky to catch an hour of electricity a day to charge the camera. I really need a second battery or maybe just give up on taking pictures.
I am glad I'm staying here longer than in other cities I've been to. It's just so full of surprises. On every step there's a ritual I don't understand, people doing the most bizarre things in this stinky dirty river. Amazing to watch.
Bathing ghat
Hairdresser
Laundry ghat
Drying sheets for a hotel
No idea... ;-) But that first red thing looks like a bridal sari.
Burning ghat wood supplies. They burn over 50 bodies per day, sometimes more, it's like a factory.
Early morning, leftover mess from last night's burnings.
I find here in India that you learn more about their religion and spirituality by watching people rather than going to temples. It's better to admire temples from afar and not go in. First of all, being an atheist myself going to any kind of temple feels freaky. I just stand there thinking WTF. And even if you really want to know what their religion is all about and feel whatever energy it brings out in you, they put you right off by asking for money. All the time. Any temple milks you for cash more than all beggars on the streets of India put together. So for finding spirituality in this country, don't go to temples. Just go to people. Better give money to beggars and they will bless you, they will talk to you. Their stories will tell you more than any temple ever could. A man on the street will tell you to be happy for free, and it works.
10 minutes to nine in the evening and I am bloody glad I just got to the hotel cause I just walked out on the balcony and suddenly it went pitch black. The entire city. One light in the room is working cause they have their own generator. That'll run out in about an hour. Just imagine having to walk back to the hotel NOW! I should change the hotels cause this is the last ghat on the river.
Fancy rickshaws!
Does this monkey look depressed to you? Seemed kinda sad...
Parting ways with Michael today, he told me "Have a nice Christmas!" I've forgotten how long I've been away and that I will indeed come back right in the middle of the fake and cringy festive season. Oh the joys of the modern world. The one thing I miss the most though and that doesn't exist here in India - walking down the street without being bothered. That I do miss.
Streets of Varanasi:
Only in India!
Don't forget to look up, never know what you'll see!
This is such a calm city compared to anything else I've seen in India. Of course people are trying to sell you something and they ask for donations for their temples and they want to be your tour guides, but everything happens in much calmer and nice manner.
Entrance to the Old Fort
I saw that beautiful Buddhist temple, and there are huge signs outside that say “always put your donations IN the donation box, please DO NOT give donations to holy men on duty”. Holy men on duty made me laugh. And still the “holy men on duty” tried to trick you into not putting the money into the box. They'd have trays over the boxes etc.
You know those funny English signs that make people laugh? They do exist in real life!
I got locked into a Buddhist temple. The temple was closing but I managed to sneak in. I presumed they saw me but they obviously didn't. I was on the second floor admiring the architecture when they locked the door with this funny lock at the bottom of the door, from outside. The door was kinda lose so I managed to get my hand through the door and unlock it. For a moment I thought I will have to break down the temple's door. I have to say I managed to see a lot in total peace and quiet before I noticed I'm locked in.
You know those funny English signs that make people laugh? They do exist in real life!
I got locked into a Buddhist temple. The temple was closing but I managed to sneak in. I presumed they saw me but they obviously didn't. I was on the second floor admiring the architecture when they locked the door with this funny lock at the bottom of the door, from outside. The door was kinda lose so I managed to get my hand through the door and unlock it. For a moment I thought I will have to break down the temple's door. I have to say I managed to see a lot in total peace and quiet before I noticed I'm locked in.
Locked in
I can't figure out if I am more relaxed or this city is? Or maybe both, and it makes a very nice combination.
It is so hot it's impossible to go out to the city midday. Either early morning or late afternoon. So midday I stay at the hotel, either in my room sitting on that windowsill watching the pigs or reading or on the rooftop hiding in the shadow.
When I do go out in the city I keep being overwhelmed by the bauty of it all - every building, every structure, everything is a piece of art. I enjoy walking around without plan or agenda. Nothing particular I want to see. The city is small and surrounded by high walls of the Fort.
Something's cooking for lunch
This city is very photogenic, everywhere you go you're tempted to take hundreds of photos. Electricity black-outs were my saviour to be able to just see it all and enjoy without the camera for a day or two!
After the sunset. My second attempt to have dinner. I just walked into the Fort hoping for a dinner at Little Tibet (recommended by many) but I didn't really like it. I walked on and found Free Tibet which looked nice. Food was horrible though. Even rice was not edible. I paid my 80 Rs and left. Moved on and stumbled upon Little Italy. I know, bad. Italian food in India. Except it wasn't really Italian. But they had wine. Not very good, red wine from the fridge. Bet never the less - wine. My mind wondering back to that Rambagh Palace where I had wine with Bathi on my last day in Jaipur. Suppose if you stay in that kind of place you can pretty much escape reality and not even know you are in India. Those ladies in their smart western clothes, knee length skirts and diamond necklaces. Would be a sight to see them walking the streets alone. Without doing that, what's the point? Might as well watch a movie about India. That's as much as you get to see anyways, maybe even less.
Trust English to have a wine and beer shop in India! :)
Local market
Hotel staff is extremely nice and helpful without being too much. I have a bit of a trouble with everything being too much. But I like them. I bought my desert safari from the hotel, talked to the guy who’d take me to the desert, kinda liked him. It’s a jeep ride into the desert and then a camel ride into the sunset. It is supposed to be done in groups but I didn’t fancy a group of loud people (or any people) with me so I asked for an individual thing, just me alone. So it cost more than the group thing but OMG so worth it for a rare chance to be alone in India! Now going to sleep. Not many late nights out. 9 p.m. I’m sure I’ve said that before but this country wears you out. You want to be in your bed as soon as the sun goes down. Also most of the cities turn pitch black around that time. I attempted to walk back to the hotel today from the Fort, after sunset, when the electricity went out. That was interesting. Even the Fort itself was scary but at least there are people out there, once you’re outside the Fort (and my hotel is outside the Fort) the streets are totally dark and not much movement going on except for animals. To bump into a cow on a completely dark street is in a way exotic but not very comfortable. I got lost. I thought I knew where I was going but damn I circled for hours in complete darkness before I gave up and walked back to the Fort entrance, luckily that is visible even in the dark and the Fort itself is hard to lose even at night, so I returned to where I started and tried again. A very kind old man took me to the hotel on his ancient little motorbike. Good thing he did – I was walking in the opposite direction!
No electricity again in the morning. In the entire city.
December 2
Long walk around the Fort in the morning looking for a place that supposedly serves real coffee. It's impossible to get decent coffee in India. All they have is instant coffee. If you ask for espresso they might say they have it - and then bring you VERY strong instant coffee... ;-) I learned to drink it. With milk. Disgusting though. I rather stick to tea or chai masala which is unbelievably good here. They serve it in tiny little cups, "pouring" it by dipping a cup (often together with half an arm) into giant barrels or old worn out buckets full of delicious chai, right there on the streets. But yes, I've found that place with real coffee, they did have it. Unable to serve it though cause there was no electricity and they couldn't turn on their fancy coffee machine. Lots of long tourist faces around that machine this morning. I give up. I embrace the idea I am not getting real coffee in this country and I should simply stop trying.
Walking down the street today I was thinking, it's really hard here to find the balance between talking to everyone, telling everyone who comes up and says "hello" where you're from, what is your job, how many family members do you have, and being downright rude not replying to any "hellos" and just ignoring them all. When you reply to their greetings and talk to them, it takes you all day and once you talked to one person you need to talk to the next and eventually you'll end up somewhere you had no intention to be. It's just out of your control. If you don't talk cause you want to be alone and walk where you want to walk without any interference from anyone, you do risk being rude and obnoxious foreigner. And they know how to play that: "so you don't want to talk to Indian people?" "You're too good to stop and talk to Indian people?" Also you definitely don't want to shut the people out completely cause they make this country into what it is and you'd miss a large part of culture and charm of India. But there seems to be no in between. They don't really have any concept of personal space, saying you'd like to be alone and see this alone and not talk to anyone for a while doesn't really work. You're either friendly (talk) or you're rude (not talk). Why would anyone ever want to be alone out of their own choice is beyond the traditions and culture of this society. They have never been alone, any of them. They have never craved personal space cause there's no concept of that. They have never thought of not talking to everyone all the time. If you don't want to talk the only reason is that you don't like the person or you feel superior. I haven't found the answer how to balance this.
I have however learned that it is possible to push a cow out of your way if you need to pass one in a narrow walkway.
Hotel staff is extremely nice and helpful without being too much. I have a bit of a trouble with everything being too much. But I like them. I bought my desert safari from the hotel, talked to the guy who’d take me to the desert, kinda liked him. It’s a jeep ride into the desert and then a camel ride into the sunset. It is supposed to be done in groups but I didn’t fancy a group of loud people (or any people) with me so I asked for an individual thing, just me alone. So it cost more than the group thing but OMG so worth it for a rare chance to be alone in India! Now going to sleep. Not many late nights out. 9 p.m. I’m sure I’ve said that before but this country wears you out. You want to be in your bed as soon as the sun goes down. Also most of the cities turn pitch black around that time. I attempted to walk back to the hotel today from the Fort, after sunset, when the electricity went out. That was interesting. Even the Fort itself was scary but at least there are people out there, once you’re outside the Fort (and my hotel is outside the Fort) the streets are totally dark and not much movement going on except for animals. To bump into a cow on a completely dark street is in a way exotic but not very comfortable. I got lost. I thought I knew where I was going but damn I circled for hours in complete darkness before I gave up and walked back to the Fort entrance, luckily that is visible even in the dark and the Fort itself is hard to lose even at night, so I returned to where I started and tried again. A very kind old man took me to the hotel on his ancient little motorbike. Good thing he did – I was walking in the opposite direction!
No electricity again in the morning. In the entire city.
December 2
Long walk around the Fort in the morning looking for a place that supposedly serves real coffee. It's impossible to get decent coffee in India. All they have is instant coffee. If you ask for espresso they might say they have it - and then bring you VERY strong instant coffee... ;-) I learned to drink it. With milk. Disgusting though. I rather stick to tea or chai masala which is unbelievably good here. They serve it in tiny little cups, "pouring" it by dipping a cup (often together with half an arm) into giant barrels or old worn out buckets full of delicious chai, right there on the streets. But yes, I've found that place with real coffee, they did have it. Unable to serve it though cause there was no electricity and they couldn't turn on their fancy coffee machine. Lots of long tourist faces around that machine this morning. I give up. I embrace the idea I am not getting real coffee in this country and I should simply stop trying.
Walking down the street today I was thinking, it's really hard here to find the balance between talking to everyone, telling everyone who comes up and says "hello" where you're from, what is your job, how many family members do you have, and being downright rude not replying to any "hellos" and just ignoring them all. When you reply to their greetings and talk to them, it takes you all day and once you talked to one person you need to talk to the next and eventually you'll end up somewhere you had no intention to be. It's just out of your control. If you don't talk cause you want to be alone and walk where you want to walk without any interference from anyone, you do risk being rude and obnoxious foreigner. And they know how to play that: "so you don't want to talk to Indian people?" "You're too good to stop and talk to Indian people?" Also you definitely don't want to shut the people out completely cause they make this country into what it is and you'd miss a large part of culture and charm of India. But there seems to be no in between. They don't really have any concept of personal space, saying you'd like to be alone and see this alone and not talk to anyone for a while doesn't really work. You're either friendly (talk) or you're rude (not talk). Why would anyone ever want to be alone out of their own choice is beyond the traditions and culture of this society. They have never been alone, any of them. They have never craved personal space cause there's no concept of that. They have never thought of not talking to everyone all the time. If you don't want to talk the only reason is that you don't like the person or you feel superior. I haven't found the answer how to balance this.
I have however learned that it is possible to push a cow out of your way if you need to pass one in a narrow walkway.
In this part of India a lot of women cover their faces. Especially in the desert.
Anyways getting ready for that desert safari now. Leaving in about an hour.
Sand dunes. Before sunset.
I am sitting alone in the desert, the 'driver' (camel driver that is) went to the nearby village to get something. I didn't mind, I wanted to be alone for a while. Hope he comes back though – it is windy and sitting down in the same place covers you up to the waist in sand just in few minutes. Sand dunes are shifting like they show in horror movies. Sand is everywhere. Camera lense is not opening cause it's full of sand, this diary is all in sand, I feel like my clothes are made of sandpaper. Next time when I am better equipped and know what to expect I will take 2 days camel safari. It wasn't easy to ride a camel (just cause it's unusual, probably need a few hours to adjust) but I seemed to get along with mine quite well. It is freaky to look down from the camel's back and see your own shadow in the sand. And see nothing else for miles and miles around you. Actually... that is not quite true. At some point I saw two lonely and strange looking tanks somewhere far away. You know, real war tanks. My camel guy said it means that we're very near Pakistan border. To be safe we had to ride at least an hour in the opposite direction to find a place for fire and sunset that isn't anywhere near borderlines.
Wild camels in the desert
Freaky shadows :)
My camel wasn't wild at all, very good natured and beautiful animal.
I am in for a surprise when we settle down and he makes a campfire. He takes 3 joints from his pocket – that's why he went to the village. I must have mentioned to him that I had one in Agra. He wanted to show me Jaisalmer is even more welcoming. The joints are free. I ask how come and he says they are cheap as sand here and not to worry about it. Good stuff, too. One of the best sunsets of my life. We sit and talk till the early hours. I enjoy his company, he speaks English and is very interesting to talk to. He is also cute and really reminds me Cary Shields (why did I suddenly think of him?) He presumes I am rich. I ask why. He says, “you travel!” Hard to argue with that. No one in India even dreams of travelling unless they are filthy rich. It is not a concept a regular working person in India can even grasp that you would want to go to other countries, even other cities, unless you have so much money you just don't know what else to do. I try to explain that I am not rich at all, I just love travelling and pretty much spend all my money on it. He doesn't get it. Spend all your money? So you are rich? Hand to mouth seems to be a normal way of living for him. If there's money to “spend”, you're filthy rich. Nothing in between. I ask how much he makes at the hotel running safari for them. He says he makes 1200 Rs a month. That's 12 Lats. Less than 20 EUR. Per month. He is quite well off he says. He has a place to sleep – he is not living on the streets. He lives in the city (his family lives in one of the desert villages), he has a room and a bed. And he eats 3 meals a day. By the desert village standards, he has made it. I find it hard to shock over anything at that point – he seems a happy man. He smokes with me and we laugh at the obsurdity of the situation – how did the two of us make it here, together, sitting in the dark smoking by a campfire in the Thar desert under the stars, a camel safari guy from Jaisalmer and an economist from Riga. He doesn't know what an economist mean. At that point I don't know either. Why do we even bother with any of that in the western world?
He took me through his old village in the desert where his family still lives. It's a typical Hindu village few hour's drive into the desert. I got invited into his family home and his mother made me tea. Their home is basically four walls made of sand. There's virtually nothing in there. It's all prestine clean though. Walls are made of sand mixed with something that makes it a bit stronger, looks like sand with water, like a very smoothly made big sand castle on the beach. Inside the floors are also made from the same material, looks like sandstone but softer than that. I learn it is called mud hut – indeed the houses are built of mud. There are a few brick buildings in the village or some parts of some houses are brick but those are very expensive so most of the houses are made of mud. I am in one of the mud houses. There is no furniture. Everyone sits on the clean floor. There is a little blanket on the floor for siting. I sit on it. Mother sat next to me on the floor. She started showing me things other tourists have given her. There are two small bottles of shampoo – no one in the village seemed to know what it is. I tell her. She is confused. They have no running water, they live in mud houses. I do admire her awesome shiny beautiful hair, not touched by modern chemical cleansers. They "wash" their hair with some kind of a plant, they mix it with water, put it in hair, then rinse it out. I used to buy it in my local Krishna store (modern export version, obviously, but made from the same plant the same way) and it was just too much trouble - the mixture was dark mud colour, every time I attempted to use it, my bathroom always looked like a mud fight battlefield afterwards. I also admire the way these women dress - the colours are incredible, they walk through the dirt on the ground all day long and their saris never seem to be dirty or worn out, they are always bright, always clean. How is that even possible?
We have arrived to the village where we change from a jeep to camels. Village houses in the background.
Village life
View from inside the house
Conversation is long and awkward, my guide is the only one who speaks English but he only speaks some English and definitely not good enough to translate. She shows me a small blue figurine someone has left her - it's a superman. Why in the world someone has given her a superman and how do I explain this?
I like people in this village. They are friendly even though we have tough times trying to communicate. Children are curious, they keep asking me things all the time but I don't understand them. When I walk through the village they run after me in a large disorganised group. They are laughing all the time. They seem to be happy something out of ordinary happens in their village.
December 3
Goodbye, Jaisalmer. Last breakfast at this gorgeous rooftop terrace and I am off to my next destination. The sun again is so bright I'm tearing up. My skin is burning, perhaps from the sun but maybe from all the sand in the desert. This has been an amazing experience. Everyone, go to Jaisalmer! Stay at Shahi Palace. Enjoy the rooftop. Go on a safari. Smoke whatever they give you. It's a magical place.
A rather long train ride ahead of me. Boarding at 3:30 p.m. and scheduled to arrive at my destination at 11:30 a.m. the next day. A bit short of 24 hours on a lovely slow moving train.
On the train. I guess I would enjoy this train ride much more if there were no other people. But I guess you can't have India without the crowd. And this is crowded. My lower seat was already occupied by two Indian men and instead of squeezing with them I already took the upper (sleeping) birth. OMG a French couple next to me is getting out their sleeping bags! I guess I'll just have to do with this tiny blanket. This exclusive class sleeper couch stinks. I'm glad I don't have to find out how is the regular sleeper class... I am constantly buying stuff from various vendors passing by all the time selling everything on the planet one can carry through a train. Kills time. I've had chips and some chai, some nescafe with milk ... and I thought I will never drink from their dirty buckets and their cups! :) I did, and I asked for more.
First class upstairs sleeper ;)
Delicious beverages on the train, delivered all night long
I like people in this village. They are friendly even though we have tough times trying to communicate. Children are curious, they keep asking me things all the time but I don't understand them. When I walk through the village they run after me in a large disorganised group. They are laughing all the time. They seem to be happy something out of ordinary happens in their village.
December 3
Goodbye, Jaisalmer. Last breakfast at this gorgeous rooftop terrace and I am off to my next destination. The sun again is so bright I'm tearing up. My skin is burning, perhaps from the sun but maybe from all the sand in the desert. This has been an amazing experience. Everyone, go to Jaisalmer! Stay at Shahi Palace. Enjoy the rooftop. Go on a safari. Smoke whatever they give you. It's a magical place.
A rather long train ride ahead of me. Boarding at 3:30 p.m. and scheduled to arrive at my destination at 11:30 a.m. the next day. A bit short of 24 hours on a lovely slow moving train.
On the train. I guess I would enjoy this train ride much more if there were no other people. But I guess you can't have India without the crowd. And this is crowded. My lower seat was already occupied by two Indian men and instead of squeezing with them I already took the upper (sleeping) birth. OMG a French couple next to me is getting out their sleeping bags! I guess I'll just have to do with this tiny blanket. This exclusive class sleeper couch stinks. I'm glad I don't have to find out how is the regular sleeper class... I am constantly buying stuff from various vendors passing by all the time selling everything on the planet one can carry through a train. Kills time. I've had chips and some chai, some nescafe with milk ... and I thought I will never drink from their dirty buckets and their cups! :) I did, and I asked for more.
First class upstairs sleeper ;)
Delicious beverages on the train, delivered all night long
All in all the train ride really wasn't that bad except for cockroaches that really made it all slightly uncomfortable... And cockroaches, unlike people, know no classes, they love general sleeper and first class sleeper the same.. But then again if you are on the train for 20 hours you do at some point give up looking around for them and just go to sleep. Most foreigners tied their luggage to their beds. At this point I appreciated the freedom of travelling light, I just put my backpack under my head and slept peacefully, waking up a couple of times from a dream that something is crawling over me. It wasn't. I just hate cockroaches.
Oh btw that wasn't a train to my destination, that was a train to Delhi, and from here I take another train to Varanasi. So it's another night on the train for me I'm afraid.
December 4
Oh btw that wasn't a train to my destination, that was a train to Delhi, and from here I take another train to Varanasi. So it's another night on the train for me I'm afraid.
December 4
Back in Delhi for couple of hours
I seem to see this place differently now, I see different people around, suddenly I can look past the touts and thieves and see normal, real people in Delhi. There are loads of them. I guess the first effect of arriving to this city is so blinding you literally do not see anything.
I seem to see this place differently now, I see different people around, suddenly I can look past the touts and thieves and see normal, real people in Delhi. There are loads of them. I guess the first effect of arriving to this city is so blinding you literally do not see anything.
Finally I am at a local restaurant. Quite expensive for Delhi standards but very nice and simple. Seems friendly. Except the smoking, I can not get over the smoking everywhere. The place is quite busy. Mostly locals. Many drinking beer, some working on their laptops. There are quite a few women dressed in regular (by Western standards) clothing. I must have wondered into the modern part of Delhi. I have a few hours to my train and I decide to spend it here. I drink plenty of beer with a hope to numb that train cockroach inconvenience that awaits me again for another night on the road. I do not know yet cockroaches will seem a small trouble compared to what will be crawling on my walls at the next destination! ;-)
I must charge my iPod or I'll die of boredom on that train. I have two books but I'll be done with them in an hour - Coelho is the writer they sell on every corner here and the read is very quick. I didn't pack books with me. I just buy whatever I see here and leave it after reading. A lot of hotels have books laying around for everyone to take one if they want to (or leave theirs). People don't carry too much stuff around in India.
December 5
Good morning! They serve breakfast on this train! But I think I'll stick with chai (or whatever it is in this particular bucket, I have troubles telling nescafe with milk from chai lately) cause the number of cockroaches on this train made me lose my appetite. Another hour and I'll be in Varanasi, the holiest and the oldest city in India.
I must charge my iPod or I'll die of boredom on that train. I have two books but I'll be done with them in an hour - Coelho is the writer they sell on every corner here and the read is very quick. I didn't pack books with me. I just buy whatever I see here and leave it after reading. A lot of hotels have books laying around for everyone to take one if they want to (or leave theirs). People don't carry too much stuff around in India.
December 5
Good morning! They serve breakfast on this train! But I think I'll stick with chai (or whatever it is in this particular bucket, I have troubles telling nescafe with milk from chai lately) cause the number of cockroaches on this train made me lose my appetite. Another hour and I'll be in Varanasi, the holiest and the oldest city in India.
Sitting on a balcony, taking in the view
Sunset setting over Varanasi. It was a loooong way to get here to this hotel. But I am finally here, 6:30 p.m., waiting for their restaurant to open (which wasn't really a restaurant but just a huge kitchen with one huge table). Haven't eaten since yesterday.
While I wait the sun is down and the ghat under my balcony turned completely dark. I read in Lonely Planet that Varanasi, being the holiest, is at the same time the most dangerous city in India. Most hotels request their guests to be back in their rooms by 10 p.m. and not go outside after this hour. Which is quite ridiculous considering I am usually in bed by 8 in this country ;-)
The trip from the train station to the hotel was challenging. I had no concept of this city, how it works, and by the time I understood what's happening I had pretty much circled the entire city at least 3 times. I knew the city has a river and the river has ghats. Each ghat has a name. My hotel was in one of those ghats. How difficult can that be? I took a rickshaw and told the name of the ghat I needed. He nodded and off we went. He stopped at some point, pointed somewhere and said "ghat!". I saw no ghat, we were in the middle of the city. The rickshaw didn't speak a word of English. I repeated the name of the ghat I needed and tried to explain this looks like no ghat to me, there is no river anywhere in sight. I even showed him hotel name and address in the book. He nodded and off we went again. I was tired and wasn't paying much attention but suddenly I realised we're going in circles and half an hour later he stopped at the same spot we were before. He pointed somewhere again. I was getting mad. Showing him the book was pointless, turns out he can't read. I can't speak, he can't read, I can't explain what I'm looking for. Perfect. I paid him and got off. Found another rickshaw. Started circling the same circle again. I got off the second rickshaw and just started walking somewhere, instinctively. Turns out that between the river ghats and the city there's an area where rickshaw can't go cause the streets are too narrow. It's called the old town (hard to believe something is older than Varanasi itself) and it's stretches alongside the Ganges thus making it impossible for rickshaws to deliver anyone to any of the ghats. I walked the narrow streets for hours, just walking somewhere hoping to hit the river at some point. And I did. Never would have imagined I'll be so happy to see the Ganges!
The hotel didn't have my reservation. Which is quite possible since I e-mailed them the night before from Delhi's internet cafe in a hurry... They didn't have the room I wanted. They had a more expensive luxury room with a view to the burning ghat (which is apparently an extra however I can't say I was too excited about dead bodies being burned right outside my windows). But I didn't care, I had spent two nights on the train and all I wanted was a shower and bed. Any kind of room, dead bodies weren't an obstacle.
Welcome message from the hotel :)
And the crazy monkeys on my balcony - didn't seem that crazy at all !
The hotel is weird. Not because of the burning ghat- that's the least thing wrong with it. I kinda like it, at least some light outside when electricity goes out. They make big fires. It's just that the building is literally falling apart, to get in you need to walk through a doorway that's not even there, it looks like a pile of rocks with a hole in them. I am ok with it in daylight but thinking about a possibility I might return back to the hotel after the sun is down (which is 7 p.m.!) I can't imagine not breaking my neck trying to find an entrance and getting up those almost non-existant stairs with every other step missing and every step not missing falling apart.
But the view from the balcony....
Welcome message from the hotel :)
And the crazy monkeys on my balcony - didn't seem that crazy at all !
The hotel is weird. Not because of the burning ghat- that's the least thing wrong with it. I kinda like it, at least some light outside when electricity goes out. They make big fires. It's just that the building is literally falling apart, to get in you need to walk through a doorway that's not even there, it looks like a pile of rocks with a hole in them. I am ok with it in daylight but thinking about a possibility I might return back to the hotel after the sun is down (which is 7 p.m.!) I can't imagine not breaking my neck trying to find an entrance and getting up those almost non-existant stairs with every other step missing and every step not missing falling apart.
But the view from the balcony....
I don't understand what ritual is it that they are performing down there but there is some fire, lots of noise and a lot of people in the dark by the river. I couldn't see them at first but when I stood on the balcony a little longer and my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see that the steps of the ghat are full of people all the way down to the river, some even in the water. All chanting something.
It felt like being in a postcard
Ghats are basically steps leading into the Ganges. Everything, all their lives happen on these steps.
One of the central ghats
Today walking down one of those narrow old town streets I met a funeral procession - a dead body was carried to the burning ghat, its white sheet brushing my shoulder. (The old town streets are about 1 meter wide, no escape). It was tied to a small wooden platform, that platform will be put on the wood already prepared for the fire. I learned during my stay in Varanasi that it takes about 4-5 hours for a body to burn completely. It takes more time for a man to burn than for a woman.
December 6
I am sitting by the Ganges drinking coffee. This morning an old monk with his body painted in weird colours told me: "always be happy". It was early in the morning, I had not slept very well and probably looked grumpy. He smiled. That simple. And really, why wouldn't I always be happy? There ain't many reasons to be unhappy. A small group of people is doing yoga by the river. Watching them gives me peace.
So this coffee is more like warm milk with a little nescafe flavour. Pointless as far as coffee is concerned. But will do for now. I just wanted to sit down. I've walked out of my hotel at 6:40 a.m. and walked by the ghats for couple of hours. On the way witnessed life going on in Varanasi - one corpse ready to be burnt, lots of people going on about their business, washing themselves, their laundry, their children and their animals in the river. Kids selling postcards. Fewer touts than I expected. Peaceful. I bought a t-shirt that says "No boat. No silk. No hashish. No money. No Problems." It makes people smile.
The Ganges is really beautiful at sunrise. The river glows in gentle pinkish light.
I walked up to the main burning ghat. Right next to my hotel. I watched them place a dead body on the wood, put some wood over it, too. They were very business-like about it. No crying, no obvious mourning. Just burning of dead bodies.
Body, tied in white sheet, under the wood and ready to be burned
Early morning hours in Varanasi:
This city has its unique charm. Even with increased number of beggars and lepers with missing limbs coming up to you all the time, I find it nicer than other cities I've visited. I actually like people here. I befriended a beggar with one arm whose other limbs also seemed on the verge of falling off. Every morning he was sitting on these steps where I passed by. Every morning I gave him a few rupees and talked to him. He spoke in short simple sentences but they all made a lot of sense. He told me about his wife and kids. He was thrown out of his community and family because of leprosy. But he didn't posses a lot of bitterness or anger or regret. He came to Varanasi to die - they all do. You see many unbelievably old men who live under tiny tree houses on the banks of the Ganges waiting to die. I swear most of them must be over 100 years old! No women though.
"Always be happy" man
Surprisingly few tourists here. You see some foreigners walking buy the ghats but if you wonder into the city or walk narrow streets of the old town, you're on your own. Locals stare at you all the time. Not in a bad or offensive way. Just curious. Children stare and laugh. In a friendly way. Have yet to see an aggressive or angry person in this city.
Does this say anything but PEACE to you?
Many tour guides say it's dangerous to walk by the ghats on your own. I walked by the ghats all the time. The only scary moment is walking in the dark when the electricity is out cause you do risk tripping over a cow or a goat or stepping on a broken step and falling into the Ganges (which I really wouldn't recommend!) Boatmen really don't offer you their rides more than twice if you just say firm "no". Of course, even a little hesitation in your voice and you'll end up with a boat ride whether you want it or not. Expensive lesson.
Electricity blackouts here are so bad you're lucky to catch an hour of electricity a day to charge the camera. I really need a second battery or maybe just give up on taking pictures.
I am glad I'm staying here longer than in other cities I've been to. It's just so full of surprises. On every step there's a ritual I don't understand, people doing the most bizarre things in this stinky dirty river. Amazing to watch.
Bathing ghat
Hairdresser
Laundry ghat
Drying sheets for a hotel
No idea... ;-) But that first red thing looks like a bridal sari.
Burning ghat wood supplies. They burn over 50 bodies per day, sometimes more, it's like a factory.
Early morning, leftover mess from last night's burnings.
I find here in India that you learn more about their religion and spirituality by watching people rather than going to temples. It's better to admire temples from afar and not go in. First of all, being an atheist myself going to any kind of temple feels freaky. I just stand there thinking WTF. And even if you really want to know what their religion is all about and feel whatever energy it brings out in you, they put you right off by asking for money. All the time. Any temple milks you for cash more than all beggars on the streets of India put together. So for finding spirituality in this country, don't go to temples. Just go to people. Better give money to beggars and they will bless you, they will talk to you. Their stories will tell you more than any temple ever could. A man on the street will tell you to be happy for free, and it works.
Of course real people are hard to find at first if you're a tourist. Touts always block your view. But when you do get to see real people, they will smile, maybe stare, but eventually put their hands together at their chest and bow a little "namaste" to you and go on about their own business. When that happened to me first I wanted to go and hug that man, he gave me back my belief in humanity that was fading at some point of my struggle with India.
Even though I dreaded the dark walk back to the hotel, I stayed out to see Puja ceremony in one of the central ghats. Awesome visuals. Also captivating to see people being so taken over by a ritual. In a way of course we have similarly awkward strange rituals. Look at a pop concert of any kind ;-)
The Pujas ceremony is a lot of noise, fire and smoke. Google it. It went on for an hour, almost every night I was there.
The Pujas ceremony is a lot of noise, fire and smoke. Google it. It went on for an hour, almost every night I was there.
10 minutes to nine in the evening and I am bloody glad I just got to the hotel cause I just walked out on the balcony and suddenly it went pitch black. The entire city. One light in the room is working cause they have their own generator. That'll run out in about an hour. Just imagine having to walk back to the hotel NOW! I should change the hotels cause this is the last ghat on the river.
Some really lovely people came up to me today after the Puja ceremony when I was sitting on the ground talking to my newly found Aussie friend Michael. A nice lady with her husband and her son just wanted to shake my hand and ask my name. They were positively glowing at having met a foreinger. Strangely Michael didn't have the same effect on them but he had been here for 3 month and well tanned and dressed in something impossible he could almost pass as someone who lives here. But not a local yet. The woman was so nervous but her smile was totally disarming. They didn't speak any English and the whole episode took about 5 minutes just to resolve what is my name.
December 7
There's a conspiracy amongst foreigners in India. All foreigners are kind of on the same team. Never seen it in any other country. We are visually so different that it's immediately obvious to anyone that you're one of us or one of them. (even though Michael could have fooled me last night) And we - the foreingers - always smile encouragingly at each other, speak like we're best friends, share experiences, give advices. That kind of immediate bonding doesn't happen in any other country I've been to. It's like we're at war and need to work together against the enemy. That attitude of course brings out the same reaction in the locals. They would work together to get more money out of tourists, sell them more, fool them in any way. And it's really a pity that due to this imaginary war we often don't notice the people who do not take part in it at all. A man bathing in the Ganges at sunrise greeted me with "namaste" and told me "you are a beautiful person" this morning. A Buddhist monk smiled and waved at me from a boat passing by. This morning's boatride unfolded some beautifuful simplicity of this country and its people, and it is our fault if we miss out on it. Seeing it suddenly makes you realise what a different world this is and how fortunate you are to have touched it. And then you calm down somewhere deep inside and realise that those 100 Rupees they overcharge you on every corner don't really make any difference to your life but it makes a lot of difference to theirs. At that point you actually start giving it away with joy. I wish I had that calm in me in Delhi the first few days or when I fought with rickshaws in Agra... There comes the famous enlightment. I grin silly remembering Boy George's line from Taboo when George comes back from India having learned that "you should always have a comfortable bed and a good pair of shoes cause if you're not in one you're in the other". Everything else is luxury. It isn't a grand spiritual enlightenment. It's a small and practical one.
December 08
Late night out and I slept till 9:30 this morning! Find a glimpse of social life and suddenly waking up with sunrise doesn't appeal any more. I lazily walked out on the balcony, two monkeys were sitting there watching me watching them. Spent a while doing that. Then I walked into the bathroom and discovered something weird. There was a huge unusually bright green plastic lizard on the wall, probably put there to scare tourists. I wondered what idiot decorated a bathroom wall that way. It was in a totally different place today. How can something that looks so artificial be alive? I remembered that there was another one in the room, a smaller and paler version, almost above the bed. Didn't even occur to me it could be anything but a stupid decoration. I forgot about it as soon as I saw it. I went to check - it wasn't there any more... it dawned on me I have no idea what kind of life has been going on in this room when the lights are out... Generally I don't mind lizards but those were the size of a small cat and I don't want them walking around in my room in the dark while I'm sleeping! It is time to change the hotels!
Another strange thing happened last night. Under the dark and scary stairs up to my room there's a little house made of a few wooden poles and blankets. Some scary people live there, they always peak through their blanket curtains at me when I pass by. I missed the curfew last night and walked blindly, in complete darkness, not seing anything, trusting my senses where I step my foot... When I reached where my stairs are supposed to be (or I thought where they're supposed to be) I got stuck looking for the entrance, literally having my arms stretched in front of me not to walk into a wall, taking every step very slowly, hoping I'll bump into those stairs at some point... A tiny burning torch appeared from somewhere and the scary people who live under my stairs took me by the hand and walked me up the stairs. The next morning I walked up to that strange house-like structure to say thanks, they pulled their blanket curtain open and I showed me their home. Big smiles and not scary at all.
Varanasi old streets, away from the ghats
School bus! The first mean of public transport I saw in India that wasn't overcrowded.
Fancy rickshaws!
It disgusts me how they treat animals here. Especially dogs. They'd kick a puppy out of the way without even thinking about it. And then they would laugh at how it howls. They don't treat street cows or goats or pigs any better. Broke my heart every time I heard a dog cry out in pain cause it's kicked for being where it's not supposed to be. There's just nothing you can do about it. A lot of people fight for the same food with dogs here so it's kinda difficult to judge them.
Does this monkey look depressed to you? Seemed kinda sad...
I've moved hotels. Now I am right in the central ghat where most activities happen in the evening, so no more blind-walking back to the hotel for miles. Hopefully no lizards in the room. This does look much more civilized and clean. And there's a special employee at the hotel who chases away monkeys from the rooms. I went out shopping today and spent shitloads of money on silk, stuff like bedcovers etc. Beautiful handmade stuff! Posted it all home. I fly back in few days but I take a domestic flight from Varanasi to Delhi first, then change flights in Delhi, go to Tashkent again... Long way, too much stuff to carry, checking luggage in to your final destination doesn't work here the way you think it would.
I do want to come back to this city one day. With friends. Or with one friend. Or... I don't know, it's definitely a city where you fall in love in a heartbeat.
Now when I am "centrally located" I walked out to the old city in the evening. Very nice walk, tiny streets with tiny little shops selling everything you can imagine. I walked into a souvenir store when the lights went out again. They quickly lit candles in the shops. Bigger & richer shops have their own power generators that keep the lights for a short while when everything else is in the dark. I happened to be in one of those stores that only has a few candles. Walked out very slowly afraid to knock over all their shelves of Buddhas and Krishnas... This has been an amazing escape but suddenly I miss friends and family. This feeling is mixed with pride of being able to walk like blindfolded in the dark and joy of finding an amazing Tibetian restaurant (that had generator!) that served the best momos I can possibly imagine, and when I asked for beer they didn't have any but a little boy, presumably working there but maybe not, some times it's hard to tell, ran somewhere to get it for me. I could see a small group, 5 ir 6 people, watching from the kitchen how I enjoy the alcohol. They giggled like schoolgirls. Slowly they moved out of the kitchen and came closer and closer, eventually they were all around my table asking me about my things - they peaked into my shopping bag, they asked why my hair is in two colours, why my nose is pierced on the wrong side, my camera puzzled them a lot. I showed them how I can take their picture and see it on the screen immediately. They laughed like crazy at their pictures that I showed them. I liked them, I really did, but suddenly I missed my personal space, missed not being asked every little detail about me. Missed being left alone - that doesn't happen in India. I wonder how it would be to live in a society with no secrets. Every molecule of your life known to everyone. That just scares me!
Parting ways with Michael today, he told me "Have a nice Christmas!" I've forgotten how long I've been away and that I will indeed come back right in the middle of the fake and cringy festive season. Oh the joys of the modern world. The one thing I miss the most though and that doesn't exist here in India - walking down the street without being bothered. That I do miss.
Streets of Varanasi:
Only in India!
Don't forget to look up, never know what you'll see!
It seems that India is telling me it's indeed time to go home - finally stepped into cow shit wearing flip flops. Amazing how this country can frustrate and calm at the same time. As for the enlightment... as I said, it's quite simple. Suddenly you see that having two arms and two legs means you are a fortunate human being. If you have a home and food on your table, that settles it. You are rich.
I am all packed for my journey back home!
December 12
I am all packed for my journey back home!
December 12
Varanasi Airport
Arrived way too early, thought I'll have to wait for check-in to start... Walked up to Indian Air desk to ask when the ckeck-in will start and was informed it was actually about to close. They had moved the flight two hours earlier! Wonder what if I hadn't been there too early?
Strange feeling sitting at the airport waiting to board. I feel like I'm leaving a part of me here. And now I'll definitely never gonna see that Aussie man again and it makes me both heartbroken and lighthearted. This country, this city, everything around you, just brings you close to complete strangers way too soon. I start my journey back home today and he left for Nepal yesterday. There's a special intensity to a feeling when it's final. I don't even know his last name. Not even a picture to hold on to.
Fancy bar at Varanasi airport did little to cheer me up :)
Fancy bar at Varanasi airport did little to cheer me up :)
Wow, a power block-out at the airport! I don't know why I still find this strange.
In spite of no electricity at the airport we did take off 2 hours ahead of schedule. All cabin crew are incredibly good looking women, all wearing sari and smiling like angels. Food is delicious. There's me and one man in the first class, and the two of us are being served by 6 people. This is indeed a country of bright contrasts.
Delhi airport. 5 hours to my flight.
5 hours to my flight. Then in Tashkent 5 more hours to my flight to Riga. All in all in about 24 hours I'll be home. This transit part of Delhi airport is weird. You have to pay to enter the lounge. You can only get to the restaurant through the lounge. You basically have to pay an entrance fee everywhere. I paid it and regretted it immediately when I saw cockroaches running EVERYWHERE in the restaurant, on the floor, on the walls, on the tables... I bought beer and went to drink it outside but was chased away by men with big long what looked like antique shotguns. Delhi is probably the only city in the world that would charge you for entering a waiting lounge at the airport and then kindly sell you a beer in a dirty restaurant full of cockroaches for the price of one night's accomodation in a cheap hotel anywhere in India.
Goodbye, India ! Tearful me, all blurry, first class.
Goodbye, India ! Tearful me, all blurry, first class.
On the plane to Tashkent. Lovely crew, nice new plane, half empty flight, flawless service. I am falling asleep, it's 6 a.m. I feel absolutely exhausted of travelling - never thought I'm gonna say that... I feel physically tired and emotionally bruised. But what an amazing ride this has been! The beauty of this moment is truly bittersweet.
