Varanasi (15-17APR)

Varanasi was one of the oldest, holiest and dirtiest cities on the tour. With all these -ests, it is easy to understand why people tend to have strong opinions about the town. Many people love it and consider it a highlight of their tour, while others hate it, like my guide who would not visit the city if he wasn't forced to with a tour. I found the ghats along the river with their religious and social significance quite interesting and picturesque in the morning sun, but would not visit the town for many other reasons.

On our first day in town, we took a walk down the ghats from from the edge of town, where our hotel was, to the center. There are 98 ghats in all but they really all run together to form one long set of stairs, or bleachers, along the river bank. It was high noon when we started our walk and the heat was intense, however it was the stew that was being brewed in the river that caught my attention. We were walking down stream, so each new event/ingredient just added to the next. The first ingredient was sewage. Unfortunately, the sewage outlet had been placed just up stream from the city water treatment intake point... not real solid urban planning. Next we had people doing their laundry, adding a little soap to the stew, which was probably appreciated by the cows that were bathing a little further down. Actually, they were probably just trying to escape the afternoon heat, but they were also another ingredient. After the cows, there were a few more sewage drainage points, some of which were so fowl you could taste the stench in the air. Then we passed the burning ghats where the ashes of the faithful were being washed into the river. Finally, after all of these ingredients were added, we came to a ghat where the locals were bathing and swimming in this stew of ewe. In the morning, one of the bathers invited us to join them, saying you only live once, but I think that stew could make that one life a little uncomfortable with dysentery or worse.

At sunset, we set out on a medium sized row boat for a candle ceremony on the boat, followed by the flower ceremony on the shore. As the sun set our oarsman began to light candles in over 100 bowls made of banana leaves. We then set them a float in the river carrying wishes for us and our loved ones. By the time they were all on the river, they made the river glow like a second city skyline. After all of the candles had floated down stream in the slow river, we move toward the central ghat where a large crowd had formed to watch or participate in the flower ceremony. The ceremony is held every evening and involved five Brahmans conducting a series of ritual offerings in unison with flowers, flames and bells accompanied by lots of other bells, a couple drums, and oversaw by a local guru. We watched the ceremony for about 15 minutes and then moved back up the river to find dinner.

In the morning, we got up at 4:30 to head back out on the river for sunrise and to watch the city wake up. The crowd along the ghats grew quickly as did the crowd on the river as boats filled with other tourist and locals began their morning. There were smaller morning ceremonies taking place, bodies being prepared for cremation, crowds of locals doing their laundry to beat the heat of the day, and larger crowds of locals, and a few brave/crazy tourists, swimming and bathing. The sunrise was beautiful, casting an orange glow on the city as it tried to burn off the morning mist that cloaked the river bank.

While we were in Varanasi there were local elections, which kept us off the streets for the rest of the day, and the whole town seemed asleep until about five in the evening. After the election day lull, everyone was keen to go to Saranth, the following day, which is the site of Buddha's first sermon. The taxi ride was grueling, as usual, with every driver maneuvering for himself and only giving way at the last moment if necessary. Even the few police that were trying to establish order at round-abouts were being ignored until they stood directly in front of the traffic. When we arrived in Saranth, we found out that the museum was closed that day and ended up with a local guide that had some good information, but seemed to repeat everything three times for emphasis, or to simply make his short tour longer. In Deer Park, there is a large stupa at the site of Buddha's first sermon, which had been destroyed by conquering moghuls who believed it housed treasures of the Buddhist religion. It has been rebuilt, but the damage is still evident. Also in the town were multiple monasteries/temples built by the various countries that have large Buddhist followings. Our guide recommended going to only one, saying they all charged an entrance fee, but it appeared this was more of a ruse to keep us from going to all of them and keeping him from guiding another group... or he may have been working for our taxi drivers to get us back on the road to Varanasi as soon as possible. At any rate, the Tibetan temple we did visit was free and was an impressive and colorful structure. You could see the Asian influences in the building's design, statues of other gods on the grounds, the two lions guarding the entrance and dragons wrapped around the pillars on either side of the main Buddha statue inside. It was an impressive temple, and I would have liked to see some of the other country's temples as well. Instead, we loaded back in our taxis and returned to Varanasi to prepare for our 17 hours night train journey to Kolkata.

Agra (12/14APR)

We actually stopped in Barathpur before continuing to Agra, but the town was uneventful, and I didn't even take the optional trip into the bird sanctuary, so there's nothing to talk about really.

Agra, on the other hand, is a must for any trip to India in order to visit the Taj Mahal, and I would recommend the Red Fort, not to be confused with the smaller, less impressive Red Fort of Dehli. We arrived in Agra at the peak of afternoon heat, with temperatures over 100 degrees, and hid away in our rooms or internet cafes until sunset, when the temperature cooled. At sunset, we headed down to the banks of the Yamuna River, behind the Taj Mahal. The location was good for watching the sunset, but had a limited view of the Taj, so we got a small canoe ferry to the opposite bank to take pictures of the Taj as its white marble facade changed from white to yellow to orange in the setting sun. The river was low and slow, so the surface was like glass and reflected the Taj for some incredible photos.
Despite the picturesque quality, the river was filthy with black sludge and trash along the banks and smelled of sewage. This however didn't stop a couple of local kids from jumping in for a swim. I would have wished them well, but they seemed intent and disrupting the calm waters and getting in the way of any picture we tourists were trying to take. They even ran naked from the waters in front of an un-amused woman, who was posing for a picture. Luckily, after a couple minutes, the kids grew tired of their own musings, collected their clothes and moved on. Another kid was walking around with a camel trying to sell rides, while the rest of the kids were content with just asking for money, chocolates or pens for nothing... or offering to pose in pictures for some cash or stuff. We wondered the banks snapping photos until the sun had set and then returned to the other side of the river for dinner before our early morning tour of the Taj grounds.

In the morning, we were in line at 0530 to enter the Taj grounds and were not alone. Although the crowd was smaller than an evening crowd, their were plenty of other tourists that wanted to take advantage of the early morning light, cool temperatures and small crowds. As usual, the Indians in the que were pushing and trying to slip past anyone they could, as they believe any que is an inconvenience that should be avoided if possible and room to move forward exists.
By the time we made it inside, the sun was rising but the colors were not as intense as the evening before. Also, despite the crowd being relatively small, you still had to fight for space at the popular photo spots, which really didn't measure up the the sunset views over the river. However, it was interesting to get up close to see the details we missed from far away, like the flowers inlaid in the marble made of other semi-precious stones, the Arabic script around the entrances and lattice work in the windows. Also the grounds have a mosque, gardens, and arched pillared halls along the red sandstone other wall that are all worth exploring. There is even a museum in the grounds, which I didn't even see, however it openned much later in the morning.
One of the more disturbing sites during the visit, was a dead body that had been caught on the shallow bed of the river behind the Taj. The previous night, I had seen what I thought had been funeral pyre, just up river from the Taj, and assumed that this body was the remains of whom ever was being cremated. One of the girls in the group had thought it was a body of a cow, when she saw a couple dogs wading in the shallow water and tearing flesh from the body. She had been taking photos of the scene, but when she realized it was a human body, she was disturbed and upset, to say the least. Meanwhile, a couple of Taj security men on the shore just looked on and watched the dogs tear away at the body, as if this was a normal occurance. I was surprised, by how little the whole event affected me. I felt sorry for the man whose body was on display in such an unrespectful manner. However, I also felt that it was only a body and, at this stage, serves the previous owner no use, so it really didn't matter what happened to it. I had met a British ex-pat living in Tokyo, while skiing in Niseko at the beginning of my trip. He was half Indian, had travelled to India before and said the thing he disliked most about the country is the low value they put on human life. His examples seemed more tied to the lack of safety regulations, like buses racing down two lane highways trying to pass on blind turns with a full load of passengers inside, plus spare passengers clinging to the roof; but I think he'd consider this another example. I, on the other hand, think it is more a reflection of the Hindu belief in the cycle of life in which death is just the stage before re-birth.
Anyway, back on the tour, we finished wondering the Taj by eight in the morning, and some of us headed to the Red Fort next in order to take advantage of the morning before the tempatures climbed abover 100 degrees. The Fort was impressive and has an equally impressive history of rule, feudal strife and conflict. The Fort was the home to the Mughal rulers of India for centuries, and the history of a fort at this location goes back as far as 1080. However, it was rebuilt, modified and ruled by different factions through-out its history. One of the rulers, Shah Jahan built the Taj as a tomb for his favorite wife and also added a lot of marble sections to the fort. He was overthrown by his son, Aurangzeb, who then imprisoned him in the Fort, where he could gaze at the tomb of his favorite wife. His 'cell' was a large and extravagantly decorated portion of the fort and, included a hall for concubines, so I don't think he fretted too long gazing at the Taj on the horizon. However, he is said to have died in a marble tower with a veiw of the Taj. Aurangzeb had a black platform carved for his thrown to sit upon during the abdication of of his father's rule. Ironnically, the platform now sits in front of the tower his father is said to have died in, and is also in view of the Taj where Aurangseb laid his father to rest next to his beloved. Later, the fort was a Garrison for British forces during their colonial rule and the uprisings of 1857; and today a portion remains a Garrison for some of India's army. Like the many other forts I visited on my tour, this fort has amazing latice work and other grand elements of design; but I found the clashes in design, like the red sandstone contrasted against white marble and brass, most interesting. I think these contrasts help reflect the Fort's tumultuous past.

We spent our last afternoon much like the first, trying to avoid the heat in cafes and hotel rooms, before we caught our overnight train to Varanasi.

Jaipur

Known as the pink city, Jaipur is the capital of Rajasthan. The nickname comes from the color of the old city and it has been that color since 1853, when the Maharaja painted the city pink as a symbol of welcoming for a visit by the Prince of Wales. The colour is more of an orange, which covers many of the buildings, gates and walls of the old city. Before the capital was moved to its current location, it was located in the Amber Fort, which lies just north of the current city. Above the city is the Tiger Fort, which is tactically built on a easily defensable hill above the city, but appears to have served the purpose of defending the chastity of the Maharajah's nine wives. The ladies lived in a palace overlooking the city with nine identical apartments surrounding a common courtyard. In the old city there is the obligatory city palace, but more notable is the large Observatory, one of five the Maharajah built across India, which is also the largest and best preserved. In addition, the observatory is home to the Guinness Book record for the largest sun dial. There is much more to the city than this, but these are some of the main attractions I visited during my stay.

In the old city we walked the markets several times and it was interesting to see the shift in crowds and number of open store fronts from day to day. One day it would be packed with people and all the stalls seemed to be open with merchandise flooding out into the sidewalks and street and the next day only a few stalls were opened and the steets seemed nearly abandoned. On our last night, we attempted to take a rickshaw through the city and the streets were so packed the few kilometers took an hour to travel and the amount of exhaust fumes we inhaled probably shaved five years off of our lives.

The traffic jam appeared to be a combination of several factors. First, Indian drivers as well as pedestrians believe orderly lines, queues or traffic lanes are much less efficient than anarchy and will attempt to pass and/or fill every inch of road available until they have achieved complete gridlock, which they believe they can sort out simply by laying on the horn. Second, the pedestrians, bikes, cows and anything else trying to cross the road does so at will, rather than waiting on lights or commands from traffic police. Third, in Jaipur, they have built small shrines IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, which happen to be most popular at rush hour. Fourth, the road narrows from two lanes, which are treated like four, into a single lane through the city gate. And fifth, a guru of some kind was having a street party just outside the city walls and had a semi trailor parked in the outside lane and hundreds of followers dancing in the streets... What they really need is an urban planning guru to sort the whole mess out.

Fortunately for us, we had a entertaining rickshaw driver that refered to himself as James Bond and even had the 007 stitched into the back window of his cart. He was an avid fan of Hollywood films and rattled off a collection of favorite films and actors and even sang us a tune or two along the way. He acknowledged his singing was a little off key, but he made up for it with heart. I only wished his rickshaw had a turbo and he could have gotten us out of the traffic jam like the one in Octopussy.

The last thing to note from Jaipur was our experience going to a Bollywood film. We arrived at the theatre and found the foyer looked more like that of a posh opera house than movie house. It had glittering chandaliers and grand staircases to the entrances into the movie hall. Due to security concerns pictures were not allowed, but plenty of tourist were trying to sneak photos anyway. In the center there was a small display with quotations from famous people and polititians in referance to the impressive foyer as well. We were expecting a Bollywood musical packed with songs and choriographed dance routines, but ended up with a suspense/who done it film, 8x10, about a Canadian Forest Protection Service Ranger that has the ability to see the past by looking at photos of time in question. The film stars were Indian as was the dialogue, but it was filmed in Canada and had English words scattered throughout the dialogue. The plot had the FPS Ranger trying to determine who killed his father shortly after a photo of his father and three friends was taken on a boat just before he fell off the boat to his untimely death. In the end it is the son's twin brother (who was kept out of the film until the end) that planned the murder along with the Ranger's fiance, who was actually in love with the twin. The twists were outrageous/ hilarious as were the action scenes, like the game of chicken between the star on foot and and SUV (the SUV chickens out rather than running our hero over). Two tour groups went to the film, but one bailed at intermission because they expected a musical, however when we recounted the second half's outrageous twists, they regretted leaving.

Pushkar (8/9APR)

Puskar is one of the many holy places I visited on my trip through India. The city is tucked between jagged hills and sand dunes on the edge of the Thar desert. The drive from the train station in a neighboring city of Ajmer reminded me of southern Arizona's high desert. Pushkar is home to a holy lake that is said to have been made when a lotus flower petal fell on the desert and Lord Brahma is said to have worshipped. Pushkar also has one of the only temples to Lord Brahma. It is understandable why a spring fed lake would be held in high regard by any population trying to survive on the fringe of the Thar desert.

Due to the Holy stature of the city and lake, as a visitor you are encouraged to take part in a Puja ceremony on the lake's ghats (stairs for worship and bathing). The puja ceremony is a series of chants/prayers of respect for the holy lake and wishes of good health and life for you and your family. The ceremony ends with the tying of a holy string around your wrist, which is commonly referred to as a 'Pushkar Passport.' Without the passport you will be hassled by Brahman's (holy men) to go down to the lake and give offerings and take part in a puja ceremony, and you will not be allowed to visit the many temples in the small town. Taking part in the ceremony was interesting, and the focus on respecting the lake, local beliefs, and good fortune for family were all positive. However there is an associated cost for the ceremony, which cheapens the experience. The amount is left up to the participants, but they are often guilted into giving large donations. In addition, small donations are usually met with complaints that it won't even cover the cost of the offering items (a dry coconut, some rice, sugar, colored rice flour, flower petals and the passport string). Our ceremony was coordinated through our local guide, so we didn't need to barter our donation expenses, but that didn't keep our Brahman priest from closing with an additional pitch for donations (he noted that they have ranged from one rupee to one million).

Due to the religious significance of the town there are many forbidden items and conduct in the city. A sign at the lake outlines the expectations for guests. In particular there is no meat or alcohol allowed within the city limits, conservative dress is required and no 'embracing,' which I assume covers all public displays of affection. The prohibition of alcohol was problematic to the group, because we had a birthday to celebrate and the birthday boy had been traveling around India with a bottle of South African spirits he had packed for the occasion. So, after our puja ceremony, our guide coordinated a bus out of town for a traditional local meal, drinks, accompanied by gypsy dancers and musicians.

The group did not know much of the details other than the fact that our guide had made coordinations for the party. Everyone went into the evening with different expectations, most involving a city and/or bars and clubs, but no one expected the rural patch of grass tucked between struggling fields of sand as the venue. When we arrived there was some grumblings, but by the end of the evening, the bottle of spirits from South Africa along with many local chasers, dancing with the gypsies, and the great company of our group all made it into one of the best nights of the trip.

Our second day in Pushkar we wondered the city, but couldn't be bothered to tour the temples we now had passports to see. In the evening we met for dinner and watched the sunset over the lake. Something didn't agree with me and I ended up with stomach cramps for the night and had to make multiple trips to reception for addition rolls of toilet paper. (One of the oddities of India is the fact that toilet paper is a hot commodity and the rolls provided in hotel rooms are good for about two sessions before you need a new one.) Fortunately I survived the bus ride to Jaipur in the morning.

Udaipur (5-7 APR)

Udaipur is referred to as 'the most romantic city in India,' and it was featured in the James Bond film 'Octopussy.' On our first night in town, we ate at one of the many restaurants that shows the film while you dine. It was fun to watch and see some of the Indian experiences we had had, even if they had a little Hollywood polish for the film.

Later that night, I woke up with my first solid case of 'Delhi Belly.' I had eaten a very green spinach paneer for lunch, that was now coming out the south end, with about the same color and consistency... won't be eating that again. And, I had a Malai Kofta with a red tomato base that was coming out the north end. While sitting on the toilet I also had to combat tiny ants that had taken over our bathroom and always tried to assault my feet if I left them still for too long. At one point later in the morning, my roommate was taking a shower and my stomach decided to reject whatever was left. I had nowhere to go but the window, so I projectile vomited over some cars below onto an adjacent roof. Fortunately it was early and there were limited people on the street and none of them noticed the show/shower above. My roommate came out of the bathroom as I was mid-heave and kindly offered the toilet to me again.

Having it all out of my system, I got dressed and went down stairs to meet the group and found that three other people had been taken out by similar illness and wouldn't be joining the tour. I stuck it out for the orientation walk around town, but decided it would be better to lay low for the day, rather than pass out in a palace somewhere due to dehydration or exhaustion. I slept the day away, spent a little time on the Internet and then joined the group in the evening to visit the Monsoon Palace for sunset.

To get to the palace we took a jeep taxi and initially only six were going, but when we departed we had ten people to pack into the taxi, which made for a cozy trip up the mountain. The palace is perched on top of a peak overlooking the town and was featured in the Bond film along with the lake palace, however we had a hard time identifying anything in the palace that looked similar to of the scenes in the movie.

As for the pictures, one is of the lake palace lit up in the evenings twilight. The sunset photo features the monsoon palace on the hill to the upper right of the photo. The picture of me was taken on one of the balconies of the Monsoon palace. And the lake side palace in the last photo is known as the city palace and is reportedly the largest palace in India... however Jodhpur also makes that claim with their Umaid Bhawan palace.