Jan 2009

The River Ganges. I have read about this river and seen it on films and documentaries and my childhood ideas about India were based on this river. Crowds of people bathing in the morning sun while holy cows wonder in the background. As it turns out it really is like that.
The town we stayed in was Varanasi. An ancient town with very high religious significant to the Hindu world. Before you reach the river you have to navigate your way through a labyrinth of lanes and pathways. No cars can fit through them so it's mostly foot traffic. It's a wonderfully claustrophobic experience. Kite sellers, food, sweets and silks are all sold from tightly packed "hobbit hole" shops either side of the alley ways. A real sensory overload. And then you meet the mighty river.

We sat on the banks of the Ganga where all of humanity seems to pass you by. In front of us People make there way down the stone steps of the Ghats to the river, make a small prayer then get on with the normal business of getting clean. It's hard to imagine that they would be getting any cleaner than before they started because to the left of us were the billowing funeral pyres. Logs are piled high then the wrapped body of the deceased is place upon them and set alight after a quick dunk in the river. At times you can see the burning charred remains of the human form twisted in unnatural shapes as the fire gets hold of them. It was a spectacle and one that you at first feel uncomfortable watching. The shock soon wears off and the old saying "ashes to ashes" springs to mind.
It's not hidden away or closed off it's all done out in the open. Children play cricket and fly kites, boat wallahs shout for custom and holy cows and not so holy buffalo do what ever they do mere meters from the piers. The only concession, understandably, that no photos are too be taken of the dead.

Sue and I spent hours people watching and just relaxing on the busy embankments of the river. As holy as the river is we were not driven to take a dip in it. Burnt human remains, cow droppings, plastic bags, the odd sewage pipe are all dropped into the river at some point. The locals and pilgrims don't seem to mind and due to the strong tropical currents of the Ganges it has the ability to clean it's self. Cholera was found in the river but only lasted a few days unlike similar river that infected thousands!

Varanasi is one of the must see towns in India. It's a place you could lose yourself in for days or weeks. A place I’d love to go back to but for now Nepal is calling. Back to the hills and mountains.

Up and into the Himalayas. We were expecting cold and we were rewarded with freezing temperatures. The journey to Darjeeling was taken on what they call the toy train. A old steam engine with a narrow gauge that ambles it's way to the most famous hill station in India. So slow in fact that one of the perks of riding it is that you can jump out at any time, as long at you are not on one of the many cliff edges, run along side it, and jump back aboard. If you do the same journey by jeep it will only take three hours but as you may have read in almost all of our previous entries we love to take slow and laborious public transport. It takes 7 hours if nothing breaks down or 12, like our journey, if it does.
The views along the way are incredible . From sea level to almost 3000 meters above, passing small towns who's very roads accommodate the trains tracks. Watching an old steam train snake through what looks like the towns high street is a marvel in it's self then ploughing onwards and upwards through pristine hill ranges blanketed with tea plantations.
Darjeeling is a wonder of a town. Built on plunging hills, surrounded by glorious vistas, the houses and buildings are staked on top of each other clasped onto the face of mountains holding on of dear life.
Darjeeling has a very different feel to the rest of India that we had visited. The people are a heady mix of Tibetans, Nepalese, and North Indians. This and the winter weather make for a very relaxed place. Gone is the ferocious hard sell of goods, even the hustle and bustle of the main part of town is somehow still less hectic even if the crowds are of the same volume.
It was the wrong time of year to see the tea factories so our time was spent wondering around town. We did meet a old lady who was willing to let us sample her 3 second tea (that's how long it takes to brew it) and talk us through the history of the Happy Valley tea plantation from where the tea is grown. You can only buy this tea in Harrods in London or her shop...Or so we are told. And why is Happy Valley tea better than all of the other 80 tea plantations in Darjeeling? Because it's happy. We loved the explanation and the logic so we bought four bags.
The British. Suckers for tea.
Satisfied with tea it was time to move on to something harder. We had heard of a drink that was made from millet and served in a bamboo cup but asking around the tourist parts of town only drew blanks. Until we were lead down one of Darjeeling's many dark alleyways, one of the darkest and mugger friendly ones that I have seem in a while, and sat in what looked like someones kitchen. It was someones kitchen but it also doubled up as a bar for locals only. Were sat with the said locals who were surprised that a couple of tourists had found this den of iniquity. They turned out to be very friendly, if not a little drunk and stoned, and helped us through ordering and drinking this bizarre local drink. Fermented millet is piled into the bamboo cup then you poor hot water over it, leave it to soke and then drink it thought a metal straw. You can get about three hits from the same millet. Small tips like, "don't stir it or you'll get a very bad headache" , and, "we only know of a few people who went blind drinking it", were helpful and just the encouragement needed to finish up. I don't know how we always manage to do it but just finding out what the locals drink can lead to some interesting situations. Not all of them am I willing to detail on this blog.
Darjeeling has become one of our favorite places, not just for the tea and booze, but for the ambiance, the spectacle and friendliness of this cold but emotionally warm town. It was our first taste of the Himalayas and it's people and it's left us wanting more.

My first Christmas away from home; my first Christmas spent on the beach in the sun; my first Christmas surrounded by Indian kids dressed as Santa with bright pink faces...

Seeing your own culture interpreted through the eyes of another is a fascinating experience and Christmas in India didn't disappoint. Our hotel even comissioned a Christmas cake and all us guests were invited to join in the cutting of the cake; it was the cutting, rather than the eating that seemed to be the celebration here.

We spent the day surfing and generally being lazy in the sun and skyped our families back home later in the day. My folks had posted out a magic grow tree and some paper chains to decorate our room with and some xmas presents which we opened over the webcam. Molly dressed as santa's little helper for the occassion at the other end. We'd treated ourselves to a bottle of wine weeks ago which we'd been lugging round with us, but it was worth it sitting on the beach watching sunset, pulling our crackers.

After Christmas, we decided to head North for New Years, to Kolkata (Calcutta) - just about the furthest point from Varkala, in Kerala where we spent Christmas. Getting to Kolkata in time involved 3 sleeper trains, totalling 47 hours of travel. The longest of these was around 22 hours, but very enjoyable as we shared our bunk space with a large Indian family, who throughout the journey brought more and more family members from around the carriage down to meet us, and an American called Chad, who kept drinking coconut oil to try to relieve his constipation - not sure I would have picked a sleeper train for this? Dan was invited to arm wrestle a cousin (I won by the way. DAN), had his dreads plaited by the son and amazed the carriage with his magic tricks. I was given several bracelets and kept being kissed by the baby. We had our photos taken, but my favouritte was the movie made of us just sitting there, thinking we were posing for a photo.

Our final sleeper train was delayed for 2 hours until 1am. When we got on there were 2 women asleep in our bunks, who we had to wake up. After listening to a lot of farting and coughing from the bunk above and deciding the safest place for my face was inside my sleeping bag, we finally settled down to sleep. This was short-lived, as for some unknown reason everyone decided to get up at 4am, even though the train wasn't due in until 9? You might think that getting up this early, people might have whispered and kept the lights out... But, this is India. People were shouting at each other, not because they were cross, but just to be heard over everyone else shouting at each other. The only relief was that the guy above me was up and so somewhere else on the train, farting!! And so we arrived in Kolkata on the morning of New Years eve.

Kolkata is a hectic, busy city. Everywhere in India you're hit by the poverty and riches side by side, but especially so in Kolkata. Coming off the train you'd see the bag carriers being loaded up with bags. 3 large suitcases balanced on the head wasn't enough for some paying for their bags to be carried and they loaded up both arms of their carrier with yet more, well, you wouldn't want to spend out on two carriers would you? It is the only place in India where they still have hand pulled rickshaws and you see thin, older men pulling the more affluent at a trot along the busy roads. It's a difficult sight to see people making their living this way, but then that's how they survive in this busy city, where so many people are struggling to find a niche to fill, to make their way.

Kolkata is full of character and it's fascinating walking around the city, dodging the traffic, rubbish, cows and guilt that the poverty inevitably brings you, seeing the creative ways people have found of making their way in amongst the chaos.

After spending 47 hours getting here, we were a bit concerned to find out that people generally go by a different calender and celebrate New Years in April... Luckily there were January celebrants too.

We spent the night on the streets with everyone else. It was really busy and made more so by hundreds of people wanting to wish us happy new year and shake our hands. Every so often we got caught in a mini scrum and had to escape the crushing crowds and wandering hands and duck under the barriers onto the road. We got interviewed live for 4 different tv channels. Dan borrowed a line he'd heard in another interview about Calcutta being known as the City of Joy and managed to get it into all 4 interviews, while I had to think of a quick response as to whether I felt fearless in Calcutta! Oh, and Dan got electrocuted from a pylon (luckily not badly). All in all a hectic, but unique New Year!

New Years day, a bit hungover, we decided to go to a cemetary. It had crows sitting watching you everywhere and was really spooky. We'd brought some paan to try, which is a mixture of betel nut, some brighty coloured sweet tasting stuff and... I have no idea what else (sometimes best not to think too much about these things), all wrapped up in a big leaf which you chew and spit. It was...ok, didn't do much for the hangover and united Dan with the toilet the next day - if you ever read this Chad - might be worth a try?


We're now on our way to Darjeeling to dig out our warm weather gear again and drink some tea. We get a famous steam train up to Darjeeling tomorrow. It's called the Toy train - hope it's not like the miniture ones back home that always have the guys who work on them riding round the tracks, as it's 71/2 hours and goes up though some quite mountainous terrain.

Happy 2009 to you all!!!