I hate India, I love India. I know I want to come back again. (Part II)

CALCUTTA

We arrived at Calcutta airport in the middle of the night. Bubu, our Indian guide, was there to meet us. Four backpacks and six people were stuffed into ONE taxi. The first impression of Calcutta is rows and rows of people sleeping on the pavement. We slept a few hours and did a little exploring of Calcutta. In the evening we crossed the famous Howrah bridge and spent some time waiting for the train on Howrah station. An incredible place, people sleeping, sitting everywhere. Little children on their own, lying on the pavement.


NRUSINGHANATH

After a long night in the train we met our cook and chauffeur. Drove a few hours and stopped to take a shower and eat something in a hotel. In the afternoon we arrived at Nrusinghanath. We are staying in a very basic building. We spent the evening in the temple. Had dinner there and talked to the priests and sadhus. Bubu was our translator. They made music for us and we sang our National hymn. They seemed to like it. They nodded when we told we had to spent 10 hours in a plane to arrive in India. I doubt they understood, they never travel further away than the next village. They definitely were not able to understand we have no personal teacher, someone who teaches you the meaning of life. In their vision it's not possible to have no religion. Two so different worlds gathered in the yard of a temple.


HARISHANKAR, BHAWANIPATNA

I'm sitting under a tree, next to a small waterfall. Surrounded by about 30 monkeys and 20 men staring at me. Omez is cooking our lunch, The water for cooking comes straight from the river. Ok, we'll survive, I hope. He makes a delicious chai. We eat a lot of tomatoes, spiced with garlic and ginger. After lunch we met a few people of the Mahima Alekh group. They grow their hair, they dress in pieces of bark and their only form of transport are their feet (I saw one on the back of a bicycle, well this is India). We're sleeping in a real guest house tonight. We had dinner in a restaurant with a tablecloth made of old newspapers.


JEYPUR

Before we left this morning we made a walk through Bhawanipatna, a pleasant little town. We had a good day of travel. Made our first stop in a village which was never visited by tourists. We stopped at the beginning of the village and got out of our minibus, after 200 meters we were surrounded by the whole population. When we did one step the crowd gave way like the Red sea. There was a nice little market. The colors of the vegetables are beautiful, as are the colors of the sari's the women are wearing. Back on the road again we saw a tribal altar. They had offered a goat, much to the joy of the ants. In the afternoon Bubu took us to an ashram and we had an interesting conversation with a guru. The man is able to stand on his head for six hours. He was very glad with the reading glasses Pim and Niekje gave him.


ANKADELI

We left this morning for Ankadeli, nearby was a village with a tribal market. Once a week the tribal people, Bonda's, come down the hills to the village to sell their home made alcohol. They drink like crazy. We had to travel with a policeman because of the trouble the Bonda men are causing sometimes when they are drunk. Although the men don't wear the original dress anymore they still carry the bow and arrow. The women are beautiful in their colorful necklaces. Bubu bought a bowl of alcohol and served it to the people, we drank together and the atmosphere was pleasant enough to make some pictures (they do not always like that). We had lunch in the village, a few vegetables, potato's, and the head of a fish with big teeth in it. I skipped the fish. After that a walk to a waterfall. At first we protested, we were too tired for a long walk, but the reward was great. After a rest at the waterfall a walk through the rice paddy's up to our knees in the mud, but Bubu was right again we arrived in a little village with beautiful children. A very old man and woman sang a song for us, good voices despite the alcohol and big cigars. It was kind of moving, sitting under a big tree, hearing these people sing, sharing a drink of alcohol and some corncobs with them. Our worlds are so different.

We are staying in an inspection bungalow, a legacy of the British government. We are not allowed outside at night because of the bears. What bothers me more are the big spiders. We had a nice night with Omez en Nadjir singing and playing. I laughed till tears were running out of my eyes.


GUPTESWAR

On our way to Gupteswar wise proverbs along the road. Visited a cave and a temple. It's a bit strange to see Bubu paying respect to the gods. In his way of living he is so modern, but in his thinking he is still a brahman. This evening we talked about the differences between our countries, about life and death, marriage, health care, religion. I learn a lot about India thanks to Bubu.

India feels good again, it makes me realize what is really important in life.
We are staying in a kind of Inspection bungalow again. No electricity, no water, but we have the river to take a bath. There is one room with a lot of beds, but Bubu is sleeping in his tent, Nadjir in the bus and Omez on the floor in the hallway. Omez doesn't smoke when Bubu is around, it's impolite to smoke in the company of your boss. This morning we all got a flower from Nadjir and Omez. They have a little surprise for us every day.


VILLAGE WITHOUT A NAME

We drove to a village were a fairly developed tribe is living. They are dominated by a few "untouchables" who are clearly the rich people of the village. We are invited for tea and dinner, so we will go back there later in the day. We have lunch on a hilltop, beautiful view. A few locals guide us to the next village. A poor one, very dirty and a lot of dirty pigs walking around. Once part of the village was converted to christianity. There is not much left of the church, but there is an advantage: they celebrate christian AND tribal festivals, double fun. The tribal people have a darker skin than Hindu's and their hair is curly, they look a lot like aboriginals (they are in fact related). One child is obviously ill, she looks yellow, anemic and dehydrated. I ask Bubu about the health care in this village, there is none, only a tribal doctor. Bubu offers to let the child go to the hospital in a nearby village on his costs (200 Rupee, 5$). There is a discussion with the father of the child, all the village men are joining the conversation. At last we understand the father thinks he has to become a christian when he accepts the offer. Bubu convinces him of the contrary and the necessary arrangements are made.

Pim lets the men take a look through his binoculars, they are surprised by what they see and burst out laughing. We get a drink of alcohol fresh from the palm tree.
Back to the first village, it's getting dark and we are tired and very dirty. We go to a little waterfall to take a bath, fortunately the village people give us a little privacy. We enjoy the water like little children, but by the time we are dressed again in our stinking clothes the sand and mud is all over our bodies again.

The woman who invited us is cooking together with her two nieces. She is a strong woman who laughs a lot, around 45 years old and a widow for 12 years. We sit with them in the kitchen, learn some Orya words. most of the time they speak Orya and we speak Dutch to them. It doesn't matter, in a way we understand each other. It's so safe, secure, warm in this kitchen, I want to stay there forever. We have a nice dinner from a fresh banana leaf, stared at by all the children of the village, an Indian art movie. We give a concert of children songs. They ask for more, how is it possible they like this? They probably think this is the highest form of culture in Holland. We go to an open space in the village and there the music starts, a lot of noise and a lot of rhythm. The drums are tuned by holding them above a fire. The dancing starts and it is inevitable, we have to join. My god, they dance like crazy, the speed is killing and it doesn't seem to stop. It are a kind of row dances, escape is impossible. We lose litres of sweat, my feet are on fire. But...it's great fun. Around twelve Bubu tells them these weak Dutch people have to catch some sleep. The oil lamps are lightened up, so they can watch us while we get into our sleeping bags on the veranda. It's a small space, it's almost impossible to turn around without falling off. Every muscle in my body hurts. It's going to be a long, long night.


BISSAM CUTTACK


At five we woke up. The crowd gathered to see us getting out of our sleeping bags, and the women joined us in our search for a toilet, it happened to be behind the water buffalo. After a cup of chai we have to say goodbye. Our hostess puts her arms around me, I have to swallow a few times. Well we go.

Near a dam in the river we take a bath. We are tired and dirty. The effect of the bath lasts for about 15 minutes. We sleep in the bus even the song "Made in India" isn't able to keep us awake. At the next market Omez buys three chickens, still alive, they disappear under his chair and will be our dinner. We arrive at an inspection bungalow and the idea of a mandi bath makes us lyrical. But Bubu has other plans. Omez is going to cook and we are going to a market. There we discover some T-shirts, what a joy, a clean shirt. We go to a village where the jewellery of the Khonda tribe is made. They make moulds of resin and fill them with a mix of copper, bronze and tin. In this way they make "watches", just to wear them as decoration. They don't need a ticking watch, they live by the rhythm of the earth.
Bubu, Pim and Simonne are going to a Khond village (they were not allowed to enter the village, the atmosphere was aggressive), the rest of us stay at the veranda to read and write in the company of very big beetles.


TAPTAPANI

This morning our very last tribal market. We walk uphill to see the Khond coming down with their merchandise. Their bodies are very muscular and they look unapproachable. They don't like to be photographed. They look beautiful in their "white" clothes. They try to sell as much as possible on their way down, if it doesn't work out they try it again at the platform of the railway station and at last they go to the market. They don't like to be around Hindu's or people of other tribes. A local guide asks me to roll a cigarette for him, he is pleased with the result.

Now we are staying in a very good guest house. We spent a lot of time in the sulphur spring. Even my nails are clean now. Nadjir is listening to my walkman. I think he likes Bach.

During this trip I have seen villages, people and a way of living that are going to disappear. The Indian government is taking the woods away from the tribal people, they pay the women to wear a sari instead of their original clothes. I want to thank Bubu for his way of travelling with us, full of respect for the local people, cautious not to damage their culture and dignity. We called him our carefully, careless Ray Ban yogi.

I hate India, I love India. I know I want to come back again.

DELHI


Survived the flight. Found the bus from the airport to Pahar Ganj and found a guest house. When I got out of the plane the typical smell of Delhi was present again. I'm alright but Delhi is literally in my nostrils: dust and diesel. Of course every indian guy here in the streets has a friend in Amsterdam. I bought a train ticket to Udaipur and got "Trains at a glance" from Americans who were leaving the country. That was nice, because it's sold out and it's very handy to have.

The first song on the tape I got from Marc is "Hunting tigers out in India" very funny (and true). It made my day. I'm tired and glad I'm going to Udaipur tomorrow. It's a long time on the train (20 hours) but Delhi is too big, too awful now.


UDAIPUR

Surai Rohilla station. Two hours before the train is leaving. Children are looking how I am writing. The children are a relief. They laugh and that's exactly what they mean. Much easier to cope with than the staring men who are always scratching their crotches. It's difficult to find my place in this world, so different from my own. It will take some time. Well, I found my place in the train, thats one thing. I like it, sitting and looking at the landscape, the people.

The night in the train was cold, very cold, but there is Udaipur to comfort me. Very glad with my guest house and warm feet. The waiter on the rooftop restaurant is about ten years old. What do you mean child labour?

I slept and slept and slept last night, good for my cold. Went to the City Palace, what a wealth. It's built up and around a little hill, the result is a garden with big trees on the third floor of the palace. At first I didn't even realize how peculiar this is. There are beautiful hand painted tapestries, very colourful and rich in detail.

Feeling a lot better after a visit to a hairdresser. It took only five minutes to cut my hair with very big scissors. The massage of head, shoulders, back and arms lasted a lot longer and was very relaxing. All this for the price of 1.5$. Walked around a lot. This is a beautiful village, almost all the buildings are white. The Bond film Octopussy was filmed here and you can still watch it during dinner in a lot of restaurants.

A wedding procession just passed, the generator for the electric lights almost makes more noise than the band.

Booked the night bus to Jaisalmer. They say it's going to take 11 hours, but I guess it will be a bit more. Went to a crafts village this morning. The biggest attraction was the driver of the tuk tuk. I think he is around fifty years old and it's a very nice man. It's a pity his english is limited, he says 'this way, this year' every other two words. No idea what he means by that. He laughs a lot. Took the boat to Nehru park, a little island in the lake. Children asked me if I could write Hindi: no only a little bit of Sanskrit. Our main festival: the queens birthday. My caste, well thats a tough question, for them I am a Dalit (Harijan, untouchable) because I'm not a Hindu. When I look out of my window in the guest house I can see a building under construction. The women carry bowls with cement and stones up and down rickety ladders.

'This way this year' took me to the monsoon palace in the afternoon. It's built upon a hill and we had to stop a few times to let the engine of his tuk tuk cool down. Good moments to smoke a bidi together. The palace is old and neglected, but there is still a sense of the former beauty. From the palace you have a good view over the lake and the city.

I'm adjusting to India again, it feels good.

'This way this year' was determined to show me a few tigers in a cage today. I seem to have a special relation with tigers this trip. Wrote a few postcards and watched them being stamped (they sometimes like to sell the stamps more than one time). Packed my backpack. 'This way this year' brought me to the bus station. An embrace and good wishes.


JAISALMER

The bus trip of 11 hours took 15 hours. I was the only woman in a bus full of Indian men. I was glad it was dark during the chai stops that made it easier to find a 'toilet' while all the men were following me with their eyes (well, no problem, it were only their eyes). The man who sat next to me pretended he slept while he tried to put his head on my shoulder. I'm white, I'm a woman, I'm travelling alone so why shouldn't he? I can't imagine he would do the same if an Indian woman was sitting next to him.

In Jodhpur I had to change buses and met an English couple. They got enraged about the 5 extra Rupee we had to pay for our backpacks. Well, it's corrupt, but this is India... Live with it or leave it. Didn't sleep on the bus thanks to the Hindi music played at maximum volume. So in my thoughts I wrote letters to my friends, a nice way to spend the time. During the daylight there was the infertility of the earth to look at. Upon arrival in Jaisalmer the touts were a real "treat". The Lonely Planet writes about them, but it was worse than I expected. The policemen, who are supposed to protect you, weren't very active. But I survived, and after a bath with a bucket hot water I'm feeling like a human being again.

Met an American woman (Trish) on the rooftop of the guest house. It's nice to talk to someone about India, to laugh about it and try to understand why things are as they are in this country. And how are things really? It's so difficult to understand most of the time. When I think I understand something I immediatly discover a whole new world underneath which is completely different from my own.

This town looks as if it belongs in a fairy tale. The view from the roof is amazing. All the yellow sandstone houses, the fort, surrounded by the desert. There is a woman singing downstairs.

Planned a desert trip together with Trish. It's good to do this together. Spent the whole day walking around in the alleys. Drank a chai with an embroidery seller. We talked about the problems between India and Pakistan, BJP and Congress party. He explained the differences between Muslim and Hindu embroidery. I get lost in the alleys after 5 minutes, but I like to get lost. In this town it's possible to sit on a doorstep, watch life go by without being bothered all the time. The women are very colourful in their sari's. The carved sandstone is beautiful. Especially the haveli's are richly decorated. The life the women had to live inside the haveli's isn't very attractive but the buildings are fantastic.

Had dinner together with Trish, we talk about movies, books, India and life. We laugh a lot.

I bought a paper today, no war between America and Iraq, not yet. Thats what travellers ask each other: Is there already a war going on? In the paper a very detailed coverage of the death of a famous cricket player. About his medical condition, how they stopped the ventilator after talking to his wife and some VIP's. Such an article is unthinkable in Holland.

Good heavens those were the first and the last two days on a camel in my life. They are so BBBIIIGGG. After two hours there is only one thing you want: to get of and put your legs together. But it was FFFUUUNNN. Trish and I each had our own camel, the two camel drivers shared one. It's a real art to get up and down. They are a bit clumsy, make a lot of noise sometimes and they smell peculiar (you can also say they stink). It's hot in the desert, really hot and there are a lot of beautiful birds. In the evening we cooked dahl, rice and chapatti's. Harim had a splinter in his hand. He took it out with a needle, put the needle in his ear and rubbed the smear on the wound. I think I'm going to propose this treatment at home, it's cheap and it probably works. The night was cold. We slept up and under a few blankets. A lot of stars.

The second day started a bit frightening because my male camel saw a few females and he accelerated like a Porsche in the wrong direction. It took some power of persuasion to get him back on the track. Eventually he listened to the camel drivers. The problem was I was on top of the camel when he wanted to go on his honeymoon.

In a little village we met an old lady, she talked and talked to us in her own language. I think it was impossible for her to imagine some people speak another language.

Harim did the trick with the ring and the rope. I was touched and amazed to see it here in the desert. I know this trick for so many years, it's a part of my childhood, a part of my father. Well, I enjoyed these days in the desert very much, just the four of us and the camels. A bucket hot water, a dinner together with Trish, and a good night sleep is all I need now. The boy who takes care of the laundry, the Pepsi, the bucket hot water earns 500 Rupee a month (13$). A camel costs around 250$. Strange idea, such a huge animal for this price.
The fruit and vegetables taste very good. Tomatoes are real red and orange juice is real orange, not yellow. Drank a chai with the embroidery seller again. Talked about his farm.

There is a very nice bookshop in town. The problem with books is I want to keep them, especially the nonfiction about India and they are heavy.


JODHPUR AND PUSHKAR

Said goodbye to Trish this morning and got on the bus to Jodhpur. A lot of women in Purdah on the bus, that's something you rarely see in the cities. Jodhpur is a big city and I'm not in the mood for it. Going to Pushkar tomorrow. I was arranging my bus ticket in the guest house when I met a German woman, around 30 years old, with her private chauffeur. She is doing North and South India in 3 weeks by car. The driver asked me if I wanted a ride to Pushkar, we made a deal for 200 Rupee.

A very luxury trip to Pushkar, the whole back seat of the car for me alone. But not my style, someone calling you memsahib. The German woman studied Hindi during the trip. She didn't see the harvesting. How women in vivid coloured sari's separated the wheat from the chaff by throwing it in the air, letting the wind do the job. The villages, the birds, the children, the poverty. Well... I don't speak Hindi. I'm glad to be on my own again. I'm in a very big room, going to look for something else tomorrow. Met two Canadian girls during dinner, we had a nice evening together.
Found a nice, cheap guest house this morning. Pushkar is a good little town to walk around a lot, and that's what I'm doing. It's a place of pilgrimage so there are a lot of sadhu's around. I did a Puja (kind of prayer and you get a blessing) by the lake, just for fun. They want a donation and talk in dollars. They try some emotional blackmail. Hinduism is a difficult religion with a lot of mystical aspects. The first time I visited India, I was impressed by it. Now I see the other sides. The cheating, blackmailing, the bad position of the women, the caste system and the effect of this system on the society.

Three days in Pushkar is enough for me. I want to move on so I booked the train to Delhi. That's the easiest way to Amritsar. Sarah and Christy are taking the train too. I got my train ticket just in time to catch the bus to the station in Ajmer. Real Indian timing. I like the atmosphere of the Indian railway stations, especially during the evening. A lot of people with loads of luggage, chai and food vendors. And everybody waits with a kind of resignation for a train which is by definition hours overdue.


DELHI again

I slept a few hours during the night on the train. I even seem to get used to all the people and the noise they make on an Indian train. I have the kind off 'Delhian' room where you don't want to be. I don't want to know what's on the walls beside the paint, the toilet doesn't flush, the mattress is damp, the cushion is filthy, there is a lot of noise and of course...no window. But I'm having a good time. Had a good breakfast together with Sarah and Christy. Went to the Red fort, a nice place to sit on the grass for a while. After that to the Jama Masjid, the biggest mosque in Delhi. Like the Red fort (and the Taj Mahal in Agra) it is built by Sjah Jahan. The mosque is impressive. But more impressive was the stench in the neighborhood nearby where they sold chickens. I like those impressive buildings but what I like most is walking in the streets to see daily life.

Main Bazaar in Pahar Ganj is beautiful in the evening. Little candles to light the stands. The packages with shampoo and paan glitter even more than during daytime, the flames under the wok, the smell of fresh fried snacks. The whispering when you pass: "Change money, buy hashish?".

Impossible city, so full of life and death.


AMRITSAR

Experienced the hospitality of the Sikh during the train trip. They offered me something to eat when they bought something or when they opened their packages with home cooked food. It's a pity they didn't speak english because I have a few questions about the Sikh faith. The women seem to have more freedom than Muslim and Hindu women. A lot of vendors and beggars on the train, even two hijra's (transvestites, sometimes eunuchs).

The mentality is completely different in this part of India. It takes some time to get used to it. People are always ready to help, without expecting something in return. It is also a "rich" part of India.

There are buses to Pathankot so I went to the bus station to find out which one to take. Well, the bus station is one big chaos. I found an enquiry office. They phoned the chief of information and I got him on the phone personally. Finally found out there is one bus a day to Dharamsala but it is still not clear where I can buy a ticket. So I went to the train station, there is a train to Pathankot and I can take the bus from there. I had a very nice evening, talked to the lady of the guest house, she told me a lot about the Sikh religion. Women are more free in this religion, but also the Hindu women have more freedom in this part of India. Problems between Hindu and Sikh people exist more on a political level than in daily life.

Spent the rest of the evening in the pleasant company of a Canadian couple and an Englishman. A lot of humour. Had my first whisky in weeks. And what a blessing, the Dalai Lama starts his new year lectures when I'm in Dharamsala.

I woke up with a cold. It is difficult to stay healthy in this country. Went to the Golden Temple together with Adam. There is a very relaxed atmosphere on the grounds of the temple. The temple itself is beautiful and richly covered with gold. I went inside where a kind of priests are reciting from the holy book of the Sikhs. People give you a friendly nod. Especially the older Sikh men are impressive, with their beard and turban. On the grounds is a kitchen where they cook all the food for the pilgrims. There is a very huge pan in which they cook dahl, and the food is free for everybody. Just outside the temple grounds they are building a guest house for the pilgrims. Everybody ques to carry a few stones or a bucket with sand.
This evening we thought we saw a big firework in the street but it was a short-circuit. A big ball of fire on a wall.

The cook offered to buy me a train ticket in the morning. I accepted his offer but I think I have a problem now, he has a very tight schedule.


DHARAMSALA/MCLEOD GANJ

I was right about the problem. At 8 o'clock no cook, no breakfast no train ticket. The cook finally arrived at 8.45 without a train ticket. So I got on a rickshaw and asked the guy to hurry to the station. I'm lucky to be alive after that ride. It is a suicide attempt to ask them to hurry. Just in time to buy a ticket and get on the train. The missed breakfast wasn't a problem at all. People on the train offered me bananas.

The right attitude is a problem in this part of India. I'm used to arrange everything by myself because that's the only way to know it IS arranged. Here, people are so willing to help, you begin to rely on them. I should have known by now that I have a problem when they say: no problem.

The train was nice. I like the trains, with the big variety of people. After the train 3 hours on a very crowded bus. Three people and my backpack on a seat barely big enough for two. A steep and winding road, Indian driving style. The second suicide attempt in one day.

When I finally arrived in McLeod Ganj it took me 2 hours to find a room. Ended up in Bhagsu, a 20 minutes walk from McLeod, a very quiet place up in the mountains.
I went to the monastery this morning. Just sat on the stairs and listened to the prayers of the monks. Dark voices, a very special sound. The stairs are covered with red fluffs from the monk's habits.

In the afternoon there was a concert for the freedom of Tibet with Joan Osborne. At the start they sang the Tibetan national hymn, the monk who stood behind me joined the singing in a soft voice. He told me in poor english how they had built the monastery and made Dharamsala famous in the whole world.

It's bad weather for almost two days now. It's raining and it's cold, very cold. It's almost impossible to follow the lectures of the Dalai lama in this weather. I bought a bus ticket to Delhi. Went to the monastery to follow the translation in english of a lecture. When the lecture was done I saw the Dalai Lama. His radiation is enormous.

It's difficult to adjust to Delhi again after the peace and quiet of McLeod Ganj and the surrounding mountains. Bought a train ticket to Varanasi.


VARANASI

A typical Indian train trip, with lots of people sleeping on the most impossible spots. I'm in a nice guest house next to the burning ghat. A balcony with a view on the Ganges and apes who are trying to steal my drying clothes. Varanasi didn't lose its magic in the last two years. Benares the city where apes and rats disappear quickly before your feet and the cows stand still blocking the small alleys. The city where the blown up dead body of a child floats in the Ganges next to the marigolds.

Walking on the ghats I met Bicky, a boy of ten years old who wanted to guide me to a few temples. He was very good company. He will become a great Don Juan, businessman and philosopher. "Money comes more times in life, happiness only once" he said, and "No marriage, that's good, not too much talking, no bla bla bla".
Spent the evening on the ghats. A beautiful girl tried to sell me a butter lamp with marigolds "Put on mother Ganga, for good luck, good Kharma". I don't believe in Kharma, I try to make my own Kharma.

Why do they call Benares the City of Light? It's one power cut after the other.
I'm very tired of Indian life It's unbelievable how much energy it takes. "Look in my silk shop, "need a rickshaw", "very cheap, just look", "what's your name", "What's your country", "where you going". The same conversations , a million times a day. I like spending time with the children. So that's what I do, walking on the ghats, talking and playing with the children, looking, absorbing the magic of this city.

I took a cycle rickshaw to the station this morning. It's a miracle I survived the trip. I was lucky to have the last place on the train to Agra tomorrow. I want to see the Taj Mahal again.


AGRA

I spent yesterday waiting for the train to come. Partly in the waiting room in the company of a very brave family of little mice. They crawled into my shoes and backpack. On the train I had a good conversation with a man. We talked about the differences between our countries, about family life, about the position of women and about the writer Vikram Seth. He knew his books. Since yesterday I have a real 'Delhibelly'. That's not so nice. I wanted to go to the Taj this afternoon, but I was too sick. Try again in the evening when it's cooler.

And there she stood, as beautiful as three years ago. It's a rich feeling to see her again. I'm not crazy about buildings, but this one is of such a tranquil beauty. To see the colours change in the light of the setting sun. Just sit and look at this example of perfection. It is as if the world ends behind the Taj.

There are even more power cuts here in Agra than in Varanasi. And I think they invented the fly here, there is an enormous population of them.

Went to the Itimad-ud-daulah (baby Taj). It doesn't look like the Taj, it's more human, more of this earth. A beautiful building.
One more visit to the real Taj, tomorrow my last train trip back to Delhi.


DELHI for the last time

Sitting on the roof terrace of Anoop's, enjoying a big banana lassi. My last days in India and I learned to love Pahar Ganj. I like walking around here, and I like the incredible street life of this city. Met the English people I met in Dharamsala again. We enjoyed dinner together.

Bahai house of worship, I want to worship life here. The rickshaw trip back from Bahai house was really Indian. We got out of petrol halfway and had to walk a few K. The driver wouldn't let me walk it was embarrassing.

Had a long talk with Ian about what India does to you. I don't like it that it makes me pitiless sometimes. I had to have that attitude to "survive" sometimes, but I want to be compassionate. This country is too much sometimes. I HATE INDIA, I LOVE INDIA. I know I want to come back again.

First Trip To India: To Mussoorie and the end of the trip

Chapter Twelve - To Mussoorie and the end of the trip

From Naini Tal we continued to Almora and Kausani. There were good views of the snow-capped Himalayan peaks from Kausani but also from the way to Almora. We followed the road past Kausani to the very interesting temples of Baijnath. According to what I heard, the first temples were built here by the Panduvas. A magnificent statue of Parvati can be seen here. Locals told me that it is made of an eight metal alloy which is more expensive than gold. Originally, there was also a Shiva statue, but it has been stolen and carted off to Goa where it still is (or should be). Photography is only allowed outside the temple. It's a nice place, not corrupted by vultures (of the human type).

Just inside the temple grounds, by the lake in which big fishes swim (no fishing is allowed), there lies a highly polished granite boulder of about 45 cm. in diameter. A crowd of about fifteen people had gathered around it, men and women. A temple Brahmin told us that this particular boulder was very old and its presence is woven into the Baijnath Temples history. Legend has it that the boulder can be lifted to breast height by 9 people. The balance will be correct then and you'll lift it easily. Sounds easy enough. Only, you have to lift it on your thumbs which have to be clenched between your index and middle finger. Like this nobody can grab the boulder. Eight people will have the balance of the rock disturbed so one or two people will get too much weight and you won't be able to get it up high. Ten people : the same. Only nine can do it. We decided to give it a try. And, indeed, with nine we successfully lifted the boulder breast-high. With eight somebody shouted that it was too heavy and we failed (I wondered if imagination had anything to do with it). Ten of us also failed, but here it was more a matter of lack of space I think. Anyway, we had succeeded and the Brahmin was very happy, because this "rarely happens". One of the Indian guys asked him if it was possible for a person to lift it on his own. The Brahmin told him he had never seen anybody doing that. All the men available tried it. None of them could lift the shiny polished rock. I watched the happening and thought back to the car salesman in the garage in Gorakhpur : "You Westerners are strong and Indians are not. But, Indians have a lot of resistance and you Westerners have not." I wondered if I would really be stronger, because these guys looked strongly built and able to lift it to me. I gave it a try and to my surprise I pulled it up to my breast. I was stronger and the salesman had been right ! Everybody was baffled and suddenly an applause broke loose. The Brahmin was also cheering. Everybody started trying to lift it again, but all kept failing. My friend Suki also tried. He also received applause after lifting it knee-high. Shit ! The garage salesperson was wrong ! There were strong Indians. Of course, there were.

We decided to drive through the Himalayas to Rishikesh. We didn't know at that time, but we were actually embarking on some kind of adventure. This time of year sees a lot of landslides. So, we had to drive over a lot of rubble, through thick mud on narrow mountain track (I saw even jeeps turn back) and on undermined tarmac. One time we had to wait for almost four hours for the road to be cleared. It's a great drive, but you should get information about road conditions before setting out. It could be so bad that you have to return, which is a real bummer if you've made it that far. On the way you see signs to the nearest tourist rest house if you should get too tired or just if it's getting dark. They are put up at regular intervals.
You can also get through the Himalayas this way by bus. There seemed to be enough buses to be able to make the trip in a short enough period (and they seem to plough through all the debris on the way).

From Tharali river Pindar runs alongside the road and offers great views, all the way to Karnaprayag which is the bigger town on the way. It's a great place to enter just around nightfall, when it is very beautiful with all the lights shining. There are some hotels and guest houses to stay the night if you want. From Karnaprayag you enter a bigger road again. It winds past Rudraprayag and Devaprayag to Rishikesh. I found Rishikesh a pleasant town. I spent the night in the Baseraa Hotel which had AC doubles for Rs 500 (tax incl.). Quite a change from the 150 rupees a couple of years ago, as listed in the LP. The room was very good though and it should be for that money. Hot water in the shower was no problem. I wanted to share the room with Suki, otherwise we would have to pay for two singles. Or better, I'd have to pay, because Suki can't afford it. Strangely enough, it was forbidden for us to share a room on my name. An Indian and a Westerner couldn't share a hotel room. Indian officialdom had an easy way 'round this though : we just had to put the room on my pal's name and I didn't get listed.

The hotel has a restaurant downstairs, the DaanaPaani. There was of course only vegetarian food. The menu listed several dishes, but not many of them were available. What was there, was rather bland too. Not bad. Not great either. Breakfast the next morning was good, but expensive. Among what I ordered were six pieces of toast with jam. The waiter didn't bring me enough jam to cover six toasts, so I left the last one and asked for the bill. The waiter came up to my table and asked : "And sir ? Good service ?" I told him : "Yes, it's okay. Thank you." He fetched me the bill. I paid the amount due and added a nice tip. He looked very pleased and asked : "Do you want jam for that toast too, sir ?" I told him I'd very much like that. He returned with a spoonful of jam and asked : "And sir ? Good service ? Good service !" I confirmed again, but he wanted more; he wanted another tip. He had been a friendly and attentive guy before, but again this made me think nothing of him anymore. I know he's probably a poor guy looking for some extras, but everybody should know the limits.

The only place not mentioned in the LP book is probably the Rishikund and Raghunath temple. It's a tank where Lord Rama is supposed to have taken a bath. It's a popular place among pilgrims.

Next destination: Mussoorie. The trip from Dehra Dun, up the winding hill road to Mussoorie will cost you if you come by car: Rs 15 to be precise. Once in the town, I wanted to go to the Valley View Hotel. Suki wanted to park to car somewhere near that place, so we were forced to drive up The Mall. Thing is, that you can only drive in The Mall on certain hours and it costs you dearly : the price they wanted from us was a totally ridiculous Rs 150 !! No, I'd rather choose a different place then. Of course, we could have walked, but my friend wanted the car close-by. So, we went to see a few places. I chose the Classic Heights Hotel. The receptionist who showed us around was a friendly Sikh. We saw three different rooms, all with different prices: (doubles) Rs 450, 550, 650 (inclusive of all taxes). It's hard to describe the difference of the rooms, they all had a totally different character. The cheapest was the most standard of the lot. The bathroom was the smallest of all three. The second one was a much bigger room with thresholds; to get to the bed you had to step up a couple of steps. The bed was big and so was the bathroom. The third room was very similar, only it looked a bit as if it had been a honeymoon suite in a long distant past. The bed was round and was completely surrounded by half-translucent curtains. I found the second room representing the best value for money, so I took that. And besides, the third room was a little bit too romantic for two guys (that is, if they are not gay !). Food could be had, but you had to take it in the room; it was only available from room-service. The food was good and the service friendly. The rooms were clean although a bit worn down. The views to Dun Valley were absolutely great and you could gaze at them either through the window or from a balcony.

The Mall was a great place for an evening stroll, although it was rather cold at that time. There's a good book shop and a record store (actually tapes and CD's). We also went to see the Camel Rock, on foot. A rickshaw from The Mall was between Rs 120 and 150.

By car, we went to Kempty Falls. They were quite high and worth the trip. On the way thither, we had to stop at a check point. I had to take my backpack out of the trunk and have it inspected. This was to see if I was carrying any liquor. I wasn't, so I can't say what happens if you do. I really didn't see the point. We got in the car again and continued... for about fifty meters. There we were stopped again. Car papers were inspected and we had to pay another fifteen rupees road tax ! The Mussoorie town council certainly knows how to collect taxes. Maybe they're just trying to keep out as many cars as they can, which is probably not a bad idea, but that's probably thinking too far for Indians... I suspect they're just after the money.

There are other falls in the Mussoorie vicinity, none of them as spectacular as the Kempty Falls though. They are : Mossy Falls (6 km. by road), Bhatta Falls (6.5 km. by bridle path, 12 by road) and Hardy Falls (NW of Vincent Hill and harder to reach). There are also some places with good views. One of them is Benong Hill, ten kilometres away by road from the Library Chowk. It once was the site of an observatory. It is gone now, but it is still a very good viewpoint towards the Himalayas above and the Yamuna river below. Another one is Lal Tibba (5 km.) at an altitude of 2440 meters. There is a coin-operated pair of binoculars here that provide an up-close view of the Nanda Devi-, Gangotri-, Sri Kanda-, Chaukhamba- and Kedarnath peaks. The Gangotri is the actual source of the river Ganges. Trekking there is possible. At just over 3000 meters, one can try to visit the famous Goddess Ganga Temple on the right bank of the river. Seven kilometres from the Library Chowk is Sir George Everest's House, the first Surveyor General of India after whom the highest mountain in the world is named. The place which is also known as Park Estate was his residential office. It once was a fine example of colonial architecture by the East India Company, but unfortunately it is now in ruins. There are, however, good views of the Himalayas and the Dun Valley.

We also went up Gun Hill by ropeway. As far as I can remember, it's still ten rupees. There are good views of the Himalayas, but only in the morning. We also came here in the evening and everything was hazy. At the top, there are some good cafe's where you can have some vegetarian snacks or just warm yourself with a cup of coffee or tea. One particular place is run by a friendly French guy who came to live in Mussoorie years and years ago. He's really cool !

Unfortunately I will also always remember this hill station as the place where I started suffering of dysentery. So, there won't be all good memories. I started suffering during one night in the hotel. I got very sick and didn't sleep for one minute. In the morning I decided I would need a doctor. Suki went to the reception to ask them to call one. The Sikh came up to our room and told me that the doctor here wouldn't be able to do very much for me. He said to take it easy the coming day, to take something like Rennie's (against acid stomachs) and to eat white rice and curd. No matter how sick I was, it flashed through my head that I had to get out of this place and return to Delhi where I could have decent treatment. It would be different if I had been alone and in a place where transportation is almost absent, but here I had good road connections with the capital and I had a friend who had a car. And besides, I would have had to return to Delhi the next day anyway, because I had only three days to go (including the flight day). I checked out and we immediately drove off. I remember that the trip was a real hell for me. Fortunately and strangely enough I could sleep most of the time. Like I just told you : I had planned to - under normal circumstances - to leave Mussoorie the next day. On the way, I would have paid a short visit to Haridwar, maybe even spent the night there. Suki woke me up when we passed it. Even in all my agony, I decided to take a look and some pictures. It was a great place and it's really too bad that I couldn't visit it properly. It looked a bit like a miniature Varanasi, but that's seen through tormented eyes. After an hour or so, we continued and I can't tell you how glad I was to arrive in the Connaught Palace in Delhi. The rest you know, I already told you before.

End note

That was something about my holidays in India. It's not always easy to write about a trip. The best things that have happened to me I just can't write down, because it's so damn hard to express feelings in words, and feelings are all what India is about. It's been a total experience and although I can't say that this was my best trip regarding the friendliness of the people, the impressiveness of the sights or the quality of the food, I can certainly say that this has been the most special one and don't ask me to explain that. Hopefully you somehow enjoyed reading this.

If you have any comments, questions or suggestions, please feel free to write me !

First Trip To India: Into the Himalayas

Chapter Eleven - Into the Himalayas

Our next destination was Naini Tal. We went there by Hardoi and Bareilly, which is not a very spectacular trip, apart from some traditional cotton processing that can be seen on the way.

The trip from the plains into the Himalayas was a nice sight and the climb up to Naini Tal offered some spectacular views. Naini Tal itself, with the lake, was very beautiful and a great place to spend your time. There are enough places of interest in the vicinity to keep you occupied.
Apart from the lake, these include the Naini Devi Temple, St. John's Church, the municipal board building, Hanumangarh and the UP State Observatory, Snow View with views of 7817 meters high Nanda Devi peak (the ropeway costs Rs 35 for one hour; strangely enough, you can't take photographs from out the ropeway 'shuttle'), Nayana Peak at 2611 meters with good views of the snow-capped mountain range, Tiffin Top with views of forest, valley and Himalayas, Kilbury with a panoramic view of the snow ranges and valleys, Land's End with panoramic views of the plains, Kaenchi Temple (20 km.) and the nearby renowned ashram of Baba Neem Karauli, Khurpatal (10 km.) which is another beautiful lake as are Sattal (21 km.), Bheemtal (22 km.) and Naukuchiatal (27 km.) and the temple at Ghorakhal.

There's good food in a restaurant located at the end of The Mall, just near the entrance to the lower station of the ropeway to Snow View. I can't remember its name, but it translates from Hindi as the 'Pearl Palace', so the ... Mahal. If you need medical emergency treatment, you can go to the following hospitals : the B.D. Pandey in Mallital, the G.B. Pant in Tallital or the Sitapur Eye Hospital. I cannot say anything about these places. Fortunately I didn't need them, but they are there if you find yourself in an emergency situation. With about 150 hotels to choose from, it's more a matter of just picking one than carefully selecting one. I chose the Hotel Prashant. Doubles were Rs 100 to 125 (all inclusive) with the more expensive ones a lot better than their price difference would indicate. The room is clean enough and there's an attached bathroom with shower, although there's hot water only in the morning for a very brief period. You can forget about taking a cold shower here; it would probably kill you. The beds are very comfortable with cosy, thick bed covers. If you come to Naini Tal in winter, be sure that you'll be sufficiently warm at night before taking a hotel room. In Hotel Prashant, there's a restaurant too, but there's not much available and what is, is vegetarian. The menu lists many meat dishes too, but none of them were available.

Naini Tal is famous for its hand-made candles. They are extremely beautiful and 'success guaranteed' souvenirs. There's a very wide choice and everything's amazingly cheap. For a sculptured goddess (about 30 cm. high) I paid Rs 28. A beautiful thick candle with a bunch of glazed and perfumed grapes dangling from it, was Rs 90. It was among the most expensive ones. Don't leave Naini Tal without buying some. There are enough shops selling them in Mallital. Last week (in the Christmas period) I was walking through a shopping centre here in Belgium and I saw some hand-made candles of similar height but of far inferior quality. The cheapest one was - I'll calculate the price in rupees - Rs 580 and one similar to the grapes (it was with leaves here) was about Rs 1860. Just to give an indication what stuff like that can cost you here. Other things to buy include rugs and carpets and shawls and tweeds.

First Trip To India: My mysterious guide

Chapter Ten - My mysterious guide

On to Shravasti. The trip thither goes past some of the best scenery that Uttar Pradesh has to offer. Agreed, concerning natural scenery UP has nothing to offer , so a couple of hundred teak trees bunched together makes a great sight. The road goes through several small villages and settlements.

There's not much choice if you want to stay in Shravasti. First, you can decide to stay in nearby Balrampur in the UPT Bungalow. This has always been the accepted place to stay. In Shravasti itself, you can either try your luck at one of the monasteries, or you can go to the two-room Tourist Bungalow that has now opened its doors. Previously it was a privately owned building by some official of UP Tourism, but now it's been converted to accommodate tourists. There are only very few foreign tourists, so two rooms strangely enough is sufficient most of the time. The rooms are very good value at Rs 200 for a double. I read about this place in an advertisement of UP Tourism when I was staying in Kushinagar. We arrived there at night and had some trouble locating the place. There are also checkpoints before entering Shravasti, but these didn't pose the problem. The thing was that there was a power failure at that moment, so all buildings were covered in darkness. The Tourist Bungalow too. After passing the entrance a couple of times, we suddenly saw a sign saying 'Fast Food' and something else. We stopped to look. The 'something else' was 'Tourist Bungalow'. When we drove up the drive, somebody suddenly came out of the dark and asked if we wanted to stay the night there. We said 'yes'. This 'guard' also turned out to be the receptionist. He apologised for having to welcome us in the dark. We asked how long the power cut was going to last. He told us it would be switched on again at around nine (it was six at the moment), but "sometimes the power is out for 10 days". That gave us good hope. We were shown to our room. He carried candles, we had a flashlight. Although it was dark, we could see that the room was spotlessly clean and very spacious. It was nicely carpeted. There was a separate (large) bathroom and a separate sitting corner. When we were shown the bathroom, I saw some creature sitting in the middle of the room. When I shone the torch's light on it, I saw that it was a scorpion. "Very rare here", the receptionist / guard assured us. "We always sleep on the floor near the entrance and we've seen one only once before." We ? Yes, there was another guy... The cook. Ah, yes, that's right ! There was a sign advertising fast food. Well, let's try it then. The choice was very limited. So limited, in fact, that there was nothing really more than finger chips (chips or French fries were called finger chips everywhere I went in India) and stuffed paratha's. To drink there was a choice of tea, Thums Up or mineral water. We ordered all but the tea. It was around quarter past six. We had the 'meal' at 8.30. I remember finishing shortly after the lights went on. This was indeed around nine. The next morning we ordered breakfast, consisting of... yes, right... finger chips and stuffed paratha. I wanted to visit the ruins early enough to be able to comfortably drive to Lucknow. There's not a whole lot to see in Shravasti, so I decided not to waste any time there and opted to stay only one night. I ordered breakfast at six o'clock. I got it at around nine. This was really 'Fast Food' with capital F. The people were friendly enough, they just didn't have any sense for organisation. I just waited and watched the monkeys play. There are a lot of them in the morning. In the early morning the whole place is taken in by the langurs. After a while the macaques took over. Meanwhile, I also met an old fellow who was staying in the other room. He was alone and started talking to me in really good English. He wanted to know about me and what I was planning on doing here. Maybe I had started to become a little paranoid at that time, but I immediately suspected this person to be just another guide wanting me to show around the Shravasti ruins. He told me that he was asked as some sort of VIP at the inauguration of a new temple. He lived in Lucknow. It became clear that he was not looking to guide us around, but nevertheless I couldn't help thinking that anyone talking to me would do that without a reason. I was right. He wanted to know if we were occasionally going towards Lucknow. When I told him we were, he asked if he could come along. I didn't mind. We'd pick him up after we had visited the place. He was a nice guy to talk to and when I asked him if he was Hindu he answered me something that made me feel particularly sympathetic towards this guy. He said : "By birth I am a Hindu, but by faith I am a humanist and by thinking I am a rationalist." This was not the kind of answer your normal geek of the street would give, I thought. He coùld be some kind of VIP. When I told him that I was from Belgium, he became very enthusiastic and told me "from Belgium ? Very nice ! I have once met your king ! A great personality !" I thought, "yeah, right. That dude meeting our king ? Probably he wants to secure his ride." I also told him that our king (or the one he was supposed to have met) had deceased and that his son was now on the throne. He said he felt sorry. I asked him how come that he had met the king. He said that at that time he was the deputy director of UP Tourism. Yeah, sure.

After breakfast we visited the ruins. I found them a bit disappointing, although there are some great photographic opportunities with orange robe-clad monks wandering through the complex. There are also plenty of beautiful butterflies, drinking the nectar of the equally beautiful flowers.

Now about the ruins. Although not much recognisable remains, but the most interesting ones were : the Bodhi tree which marks the spot where Anathapindika planted a bodhi sapling, temple 1 & monastery, which are among the latest buildings to be erected at Jetavana, temple 2, originally called Gandhakuti, the Buddha well & temple 3 which marks the spot where the original Koshambakuti stood, built by Anathapindika and personally used by the Buddha, the place for the hawan or holy fire and a nearby tank used by the pupils of the Buddha. Then about a mile away from this complex are another two structures called the Kachchi Kuti and the Pakki Kuti. The former was built in different periods, the earliest being the Kushana period, the latest building phase was in the 12th century. It's a typical Gupta shrine. The latter is probably an ancient stupa, but it's also possible that the remains are the so-called Hall of the Law, built by king Prasenjit for the Buddha. On the way to these two buildings, one comes across an old Jaina temple. The visible dome is a medieval construction over an earlier Jain temple. It is the birthplace of the third Tirthankara, Sambhavanatha.

Other places to visit are the different monasteries in the same style as you see them at Sarnath and Kushinagar. The only difference is that here they are less used to 'normal' tourists, more to real pilgrims who also often spend the night there. There are Thai, Japanese, Burmese, Chinese and Sri Lankan monasteries.

After the visit we returned to the tourist bungalow to pick up our new made friend. We had a nice (but bumpy) trip all the way to Lucknow. On the way, we also visited a really big (!) cattle market at Kaisarganj. Ramnagar, just over the bridge crossing the Ghaghara river, is a good place for a stop and a drink at one of the food 'n' drinks stalls. They're probably OK, because they are heavily frequented by truck drivers.

Just outside Lucknow our 'guide' directed us to the place where the British were defeated by the Indian revolutionaries in 1857 during the First War of Independence. It's located at Chinhat, near Kathauta Tal. A small memorial stone commemorates this occasion. Foreigners are rarely seen here, although some locals told us that sometimes British nostalgics come here. There used to be a rest house, but it has been closed down now because the lake has dried up. In Lucknow we were shown a couple of places that are not in the guidebook but which are nevertheless interesting to see. First there was a nice Hanuman temple, called the Hanuman Setu Temple. It is located at Vishwa Vidyalaya Road (or University Rd) not so far from the river Gomti. It has an interesting Hanuman statue : Hanuman opens his chest and shows that he carries Rama and Sita in his heart. It's really unusual. The are also beautiful bas-reliefs, for example Hanuman and his companions building the bridge to Lanka. Photography was not permitted but I got permission after all because this man was accompanying us. What was it with that guy ? Was he really an important guy ?

Next, we visited the cremation place of Acharya Narendra Dev (1889-1956), just across the bridge over the river. He was the chairman of the Socialist Party in India and founder of the socialist movement in India. The place is only really interesting for the initiated ones or for Indians, but the views over the Gomti River are good. On the other shore, there are (unfortunate, but somehow picturesque) some slums.

To the west, still near the river and almost opposite to the Residency stands the Martyr's Memorial pillar (Saheed Samarak). I think it's quite clear why it was constructed (to commemorate the martyrs of India's struggle for freedom). It was opened on the 15th of August 1957 and is totally made of marble. From this place there's a great view towards the very beautiful arts college of Lucknow University. It's really worth its name 'arts college'. At sunset it is beautifully reflected in the river's waters and makes a great shot !

In a park near the crossing of Mahatma Gandhi Road and Aminabad Road stands a simple but beautiful statue of Lakshman, brother of Lord Rama. Belief has it that this area was given to him, so it is thought that the name Lucknow derives from Lakshman. That's why this statue is rather important. It's the personification of the city. Close to the GPO on Vidhan Sabha Marg stands the Vidhan Sabha Bhavan, the state governor's house. It's a beautiful building with a dome. Not far from the planetarium there's Lucknow Globe, which is just that : a globe, held up by a dolphin.

Now it was time for our friend and guide to go home. He invited us to come along, which we thankfully accepted. We met his family and in particular his son, who was also a well-educated person. We got tea and sweets and talked and talked. While sitting there in the living room, I noticed a large bookcase completely full of books. One of them had the title 'Developing rural communities in mountainous areas', a title that made me think that this guy had been telling me the truth all along. Still, he didn't look that important, nor did his house. In fact, it was just a ground level apartment in a large block. As if he was reading my thoughts, he told me : "Remember me telling you that I have met your king ?" I said I did. "Well", he said, "I have some photos about that, that I want to show to you." He handed me a photo album and there he was together with our former king. He had many shots of the occasion. He was also pictured together with other important people, like the king of Nepal and the president of Burma, the Maharaja of Benares and Indira Gandhi. And many more. He had indeed been a very important person. I felt a bit sorry that I hadn't believed him, but I had been told so many fairy tales along the way. He insisted on giving me one of the pictures of him with our king. I told him that I was honoured, but that he shouldn't give these memorabilia away. He kept insisting so I accepted. I told him I couldn't give him something even close to that but I would make a photo of all of us together so that we all could remember our meeting and so that he could add one more shot to his already great collection. He smilingly accepted. I have sent the two photo's that I made to him about two weeks ago and of course didn't get a reply so far. But I think I will. And even if not, I will still have great memories of this really interesting person who made a total difference from the masses and who made a day's travelling even greater than usual.

In a couple of days I think I was able to visit most of the sights, of course also including the best known ones. We saw the clock tower, the Jami Masjid and the Rumi Darwaza. The Bara Imambara was great. Entry to the whole complex was Rs 10. The ticket is a combined pass by which one can also visit the Picture Gallery, Clock Tower Garden, the Shahi Hammam in the Hussainabad Imambara's grounds and Rumi Darwaza. Guides wanted Rs 135 for a complete tour of the Bara Imambara. When I asked one of them how much it cost to guide me around the labyrinth (I could look around the central hall myself. I had bought a good booklet on the subject), he said one hundred and thirty-five rupees. The same for one third of the complex ! He, nor his colleagues, wanted to come down, so we decided to find our own way. In fact, I was glad I did, because it's great fun on your own, not knowing where you'll end up. There's nothing to see inside the labyrinth so wandering through the maze is the point of going there. There is something else, for the record, but I'll mention it later. The view from the roof is great in all directions and you can pinpoint a lot of the city's important buildings. When we got down again, the guides were awaiting us and said "You see, it is not interesting on your own. You don't know what to look for. There's no interest then." I told him that we had great fun anyway. We made our way to the entrance of the Bouli well. The guide followed us, repeating the same line again and again. He said : "Going inside there will not be interesting if you don't know what to look for. I can show you what to look for." I asked how much he wanted. He said "One hundred and thirty-five rupees." I told him that it was crazy asking the same price for one third of the complex as for the whole lot. He didn't want to come down. He said : "Tourists always pay 135 rupees." I said : "Well, if that's so, they're just plain crazy. I'm not going to pay that amount for this well, if another person can visit the whole shit for the same price. In fact, I wouldn't pay that sum for a complete tour. I can live a day of that money. How much would an Indian pay ? It's not because I am a foreigner that you have to rip me off." The man got seriously annoyed because of my refusal. He started acting so intense, that it started to attract a crowd. I remained calm and said : "Let's suggest that you want to visit this place and someone tells you that it is only interesting if you have a guide, because you won't get the essence of the whole thing otherwise. Well, let's also suggest that if that person asks you one thousand rupees. Well, you'll know that you will not see anything if you don't pay. Will you ?" In the long run, he had to agree with me that he could never pay that amount and even if he could he wouldn't. I said : "Well, it's the same with me. I can pay that amount, but it is my principle that I don't, because I know it's way too much, especially for only one third of the lot. So, no matter what you say, I will not give in." The crowds were closely following the debate, which lasted quite some time, and some people who understood English were translating for the others. Judging from some reactions, the people seemed to agree with me. At the end, the guide was convinced of his being wrong and said : "okay, I'll take you inside. You can give anything you want." Knowing that asking a specific amount never works if they say that, I told him that I would indeed give what I wanted and that it would be much less than Rs 135. He didn't mind and took me by the arm to go inside. The people in the crowds were wondering what this strange foreigner was going to do next and everybody followed us inside. The guide was right, I would probably never have seen what's so special about the place. If you're standing in one of the low-lying storeys around the well, people can not see you from the other side, although they are actually looking at you, because you are covered in darkness. They also can't see you from the entrance of the Baoli, because the storeys are hidden behind the stairs and too low to make you visible. But, you can see anyone who's standing there at the entrance ! It's an ingenious construction, however, I don't know if it was intended to be like that. The reflections of the water in the well are responsible for this. It's something like a periscope with the water acting as the mirror. It maybe sounds simple, but it's not that obvious if you're actually standing there. That's what's so special about this place. The guide told me that there's something similar with the labyrinth and the main gate. If you've seen either of these two (the labyrinth or the well), you know what to look for and you can find it yourself in the other building. We did. I gave the man a more than fair amount for his services. He was pleased and told me something like that he was respecting me for what I had told him during the discussion. I don't know why, but that's what he said. I said good-bye to him and the twenty or so other people from the crowd and left.

We were on our way to see the Hussainabad Imambara. Directly on your left after passing through the main gate is the Shahi Hammam, the 'royal' baths. You should see it as it is included in the Bara Imambara entry ticket, but it's not that interesting. Besides, the guard will appoint himself as a guide which is totally unnecessary. A visit is only a matter of minutes, so the tip is only a matter of a few rupees. He just follows you inside and says something in Hindi which you can't understand (if you don't speak the language of course). I thought he was asking me something about myself because his face was almost expressionless. Afterwards, it became clear that he had 'explained' me about the place (you know, the reached out hand in 'baksheesh style').

The Hussainabad Imambara is beautiful enough, especially with the tombs lining the grounds on both sides. Also the interior is quite a difference from the Bara Imambara. There are a lot of valuables inside and it looks as if they are jostling for space. From the ceiling many chandeliers and lamps are hanging down, many (or all ?) of them gifts. The silver throne is impressive. There's also a model of the Kirbala, the place where the family of Mohammed sacrificed themselves and a footprint of the prophet. When I was removing my shoes before entering the place, a man came standing next to me and asked me if I wanted a guide. I told him that I was fine on my own. He told me that it wouldn't be interesting on my own (sounded familiar) and that he didn't want much money for it. I asked him how much, but I already knew the answer. It indeed was 'as much as you like'. Well, "why not", I thought and agreed. He showed us around and explained about various items. I must say his explaining was clear and rather interesting, but very brief. I think it lasted about five minutes. Afterwards I looked around on my own a much longer time. When I was finished, he blocked the entrance and asked for his tip. I gave him something like twenty rupees. It was the smallest bill I had. I did have some coins, but I decided to keep them for other purposes. He was complaining that it wasn't enough and laughed as if I had given him 50 paise. Suki, my Indian friend who was still accompanying me, told him that it was more than enough, but still he wouldn't give up and started complaining loudly. Some Muslim men who were sitting near the entrance had their attention drawn to us. I got rather annoyed myself because it's always and everywhere the same : always that same bullshit about money. But still, I remained calm. He didn't. When I was indicating that I was going to leave, he called the guys at the entrance for backup, to support his cause. They came up and started bullshitting in Hindi. I got really fed up with these guys, but didn't pay. My pal must have felt that the situation was getting out of hand somehow and paid the guy another ten rupees. I told him he shouldn't have done that. The man greedily snatched the money bill out of his hand. Probably thinking that his technique had worked fine, he kept complaining that it was still not enough. I asked him if he was okay in the head, then said : "Do you want the rest of my money too, man ? Here take it." I handed him all the coins I had. "There," I said, "stick them up your ar*e." I must have looked angry enough because he stopped whining and stepped aside to let me out. Demonstrative, I refused going out through the main entrance and left by the side door. What a place ! I remember at the time advising myself not to hire any more guides in Lucknow. And, as a matter of fact, I can still only give that advice to my fellow travellers. Just outside the grounds, we also saw the Satkhanda which is particularly beautiful in the evening when it's warmly illuminated by the sun.

The Residency was a site where history was still alive and where you could really feel it. It's just great ! I took a long time to visit it (more than half a day), to absorb the atmosphere and to talk to people I met there, especially some university students. One particular guy I met came walking up to me, smiling. I smiled back and we said hello. He reached out both of his hands as to hand me something. The paranoid person that I had become, I was a bit reluctant to accept because I saw the rupee bills flying away again, but nevertheless I did. He gave me a handful of red flowers. I was a bit astonished and asked him "Why?" "Because you are my friend", he said and wandered off. Still rather perplex, I let him go, not even knowing his name. I suddenly realised what made travelling in India so special and so much fun. Just when you think you've had it with all the people hassling you and you're about to give up completely, you meet somebody who makes all these 'problems' so tiny and who gives you - let's call it - new courage to continue. These people are also part of the great differences to be seen in India. There seems to be only light and dark in India and not much in between. The experience of these stark contrasts is what you come here for and is what will make you return.

Entrance to the Residency was free, to the model room was Rs 1. The model room was really interesting because of the good drawings which really bring the hectic period of 1857 to life. The model itself was not so helpful and was covered with a thick layer of dust. Photography in the model room is not allowed. Downstairs in the basement it is. When I was looking for Sir Henry Lawrence's grave in the cemetery I was looking for something rather big. Instead, it turned out to be a very simple white stone slab.

I also went to the zoo, although I rarely do that when I'm abroad. I think the Antwerp zoo (Belgium), which is about 20 kilometres from my door, has a great collection of animals that are extremely well taken care for. But, I am very interested in reptiles, so when I read that the zoo in Lucknow has a large snake collection, I decided to go anyway. Unfortunately, it turned out be a rather poor collection regarding the number of reptiles. Also, half of it is badly visible because you have to look through dirty windows into dirty terrariums. Still, for an Asian zoo it's not so bad and most of the animals looked to be in better condition than some people I saw during my trip. There's a small admission charge.

The last place I visited in Lucknow was the Martinière School.
After reading through the list of places to stay, I decided to stay at Capoor's. When I arrived there, a guard informed me with tears in his eyes that Mr. Capoor had died and that the hotel was closed. A note on the door said the same. Too bad. Somebody recommended me the Hotel Gomti, but it was indeed very shabby. Prices for doubles were Rs 650 with and Rs 350 without air-con (excl. taxes !). I was immediately told that non-AC rooms were not available for me. The people at the reception were very unfriendly, close to being rude and the rest of the staff wasn't much better. A place to spend only one night, or better, no nights.

Hotel Elora is very conveniently located. Doubles, non-AC, cost Rs 350 (all incl.). The rooms are not that great value, but at least the place is clean enough. There's satellite TV. There's an attached bathroom with shower. You have to notify the reception for hot water.

At lunchtime, I went to the hotel's restaurant next door, the Seema. This restaurant is listed in the LP twice as being a good place to eat. I can't see why. The service was fast but bad and the people were close to being rude, not by speech but by their ignorance towards the customers. The food's taste was above average, but not really great at all. They even served chilly chicken without the bones removed. The result is that the whole dish was full of dangerous little bone splinters. It was not edible.

The same evening, around nine, I wanted to take a shower. So, I notified the reception to arrange the hot water for me. They told me they were seeing to it and that hot water would be running in my bathroom in 15 minutes. Around 9.20, I opened the tap. There was no hot water. There were two pipes with taps in the bathroom : the left pipe was about one meter high with a tap on top. The right pipe was about two meters high with a shower overhead and a tap on the same level as the one on the left pipe.

I waited another 10 minutes and tried again. No hot (not even slightly) water. Not having it at 9.45, Suki (my pal) called reception again. They had forgotten about it but were immediately going to fix it for us. Please, wait fifteen minutes for the water to get to the room. Okay ! 10.05. No hot water. Let's give it another ten minutes. 10.15. Still nothing. At 10.30 I started getting really tired of it and went downstairs to the reception. As soon as the man saw me, he started shouting at a room boy. He got really angry at that guy. "Sorry, sir. Hot water is coming now !", he said. The boy signed me to follow him. "Sorry, sir. Sorry, sir." He repeated it over and over when we went upstairs. Instead of going to my room, he went to a room two doors away. "Sorry, sir. Sorry, sir." He pounded on the room door. Repeatedly. After a few minutes a half-sleeping and half-naked Indian man opened the door and was wondering where the fire was. The room boy gazed at me a couple of seconds, said "sorry, sir" again and shot in the man's room. You could really read the surprise in that dude's eyes. What the hell is going on, he thought. And what is this foreigner waiting here for ? I felt a little ridiculous. Water could be heard running inside the room. Apparently, the boy was checking if there was only no hot water in my room. Suddenly, he came running out of the room again and went inside mine. The man was left standing there without any explanation. He shook his head in a way as if he was trying to wake up from a dream, and disappeared inside. The boy was already fiddling with the taps in my bathroom by the time I came in. "Sorry, sir. Sorry, sir." He opened the left tap (the one without shower head) and said : "Look, sir, hot water." I felt it and, indeed, it was warm. I asked him if there was also hot water in the right pipe. He told me there wasn't. I thanked him for his efforts. He smiled widely and left. "Sorry, sir. Sorry, sir." Of course, I didn't get any hot water ! I had been trying the wrong tap ! But, you would normally expect the warm stuff to come out of the shower, wouldn't you ? The time was around eleven now. I could forget about a shower, so I would have to wash up by hand now. I left the tap running while I applied the soap. By the time I had to rinse it off, the water had become so hot that you could easily burn off your skin together with the soap. I could do nothing but open the right (cold water) tap that was on the shower (right) pipe. Oh, I was in luck again. The tap didn't budge. There was no other option than to use the cold shower. I got out of the bathroom at around 11.30. I had been waiting for more than two hours to finally end up like this !
The next morning, I ordered breakfast with room-service. Time was around half past six. Some waiter from the Seema Restaurant came to my room and took orders. I got it 'round eight and half of the order was wrong. He was very annoyed when I brought this to his attention. He would fix it. Another 45 minutes later he came back in.
With all this going wrong, I decided to find another hotel the next night. I went to the Avadh Lodge. This is a really good place, and very nice too. It's like staying as a guest of a family in colonial India. The rooms are great and all different. Everything is clean and the staff is helpful and friendly. We wanted a non-AC double and had the choice of two rooms. One was Rs 220, the other one Rs 250. Really recommended, this place !

A very good and cheap enough place to eat in Lucknow is Meal Weal. It is centrally located (although not really in the crowded area) at the Commerce House, Habibulla Estate. Just take the street almost opposite Capoor's and continue for a couple of hundred meters. It's on the right then. It's a fast food joint, similar to Nirula's in Delhi. I went there several times and it was always good, fast and friendly. Sample prices : fried rice Rs 28.50, chilly chicken complete dish Rs 47.50, Indian vegetarian maxi meal Rs 34, soft drinks Rs 8. In Lucknow I also went to see an Indian movie in the Mayfair cinema, which is located at Hazratganj, along Mahatma Gandhi Road, again not far from Capoor's, on the same side. It's a modern place and rather comfortable. The film was an Indian production called 'Rangeela'. It was thé film of the moment and probably of the year. The film's tunes were played everywhere you went, also in Suki's car.

The movie was in Hindi, but the plot was so simple that I didn't even need subtitles. The film's photography and dancing scenes were good for an Indian film, but as with 95% of them, the story was as thin as a piece of paper. Although it lasted for almost three hours, it was good fun. Entrance for the Saturday evening showing was Rs 25.

First Trip To India: Off the beaten track

Chapter Nine - Off the beaten track

The Hotel Gomti in Jaunpur has been closed down. Most of the locals advised me another place anyway : the Rajendra Rest House at 92/4-A Olendganj. Phone number : (05452) 62059. Clean enough doubles with attached bathroom (clean, but don't expect too much) go for Rs 80. The manager and his family are very friendly people who make you feel very welcome. They also run a travel company : Rajendra Tours & Travels. It had only opened its doors on the day I stayed there (Diwali). They claim to handle domestic and international air ticketing and railway reservations. The English vocabulary here is very limited though, but everybody is helpful and willing. I was told by locals all over town that this was the best place in town and better than the Gomti Hotel had ever been. Virtually next door is another rest house, but I've forgotten its name. It's not that important, because if you can find the Rajendra, you've also found the other one. Quality, I heard, is less.

The people in Jaunpur are very friendly and surprised to see a foreigner, especially if you venture out of the town centre. I attracted big crowds at the interesting Jami Masjid and Lal Darwaza Masjid.

Jaunpur Fort is worth visiting. There's an old pillar, a mosque and a hammam to be seen. None of them is particularly interesting, but they make a nice composition to look at and there are good views from the fort's walls, especially towards Akbari Bridge (the best view is from the fort) and on another side to the Atala Masjid.

In Jaunpur I met a cool Indian guy who would accompany me the following days. We went to Kushinagar where we stayed in the UP State Tourist Bungalow, Pathik Nivas. Non-AC rooms are Rs 315/400 for singles/ doubles. The manager is very friendly, speaks English well and is fun to talk to. He has some great opinions, for example about faith (Buddhists and Muslims) and about prophecies (especially those from Nostradamus). The rest of the staff is also really friendly. There's a restaurant also. There are limitations to what's on offer, but what is there is very good !

The rooms were something of a mini-zoo. I counted at least twenty different species of insects, some spiders and two species of lizards (one of them was biiiig)... all inside the room. The bathroom has Indian toilets. I had to go, so I pulled down my pants and sat down. It was crazy, but I suddenly felt and saw lots of insects jumping against my bottom and into my pulled down pants. My undies had some creepy crawlies inside now and they were having a ball. These little critters came from under the sides of the toilet bowl where the water comes out of. I had learned something : always flush before using ! Even if there is the possibility of using up your last water. The bugs were harmless, but it was just the fact that they were unexpected inside a clean toilet bowl. Now don't start thinking that the hotel was filthy. It wasn't. It's just located in an area where there's a lot of vegetation.

The sights in Kushinagar are limited but interesting enough (very for the pilgrims). The brick cremation stupa, the Ramabhar, is nothing special, but it's its supposed history that makes it worth a visit.

On the Mahaparinirvana Temple grounds, it's forbidden to take photographs. I did it anyway without anyone complaining. For a little bribe, the guards will even let you take pictures of the Buddha figure inside the building.

Near the serenely beautiful Indo/Japanese/Sri Lankan Buddhist Centre a new hotel has been built : the Lotus Nikho Hotel. It's Japanese and looks quite flashy. When I was there, signs said it was 'opening soon'. So, maybe by the time you read this letter, it will be open already.

From Kushinagar we continued with my new made friend's car to Ayodhya. On the way, he wanted his car serviced. So, we stopped in a very modern garage, located along the main road in Gorakhpur. It was a Maruti dealer and the equipment used there wouldn't look bad in a smaller European garage. We needed an oil change and a new oil filter. It's really unbelievable, but just this took around four hours to complete, without waiting time. Really, this was the actual working time. As the garage' sales executive said to me : "Labour is very cheap in India. The output is very poor." He told me another wise thing. One that I would remember at the end of my trip : "You Westerners are strong and Indians are not. But, Indians have a lot of resistance and you Westerners have not."

The garage is built on the shores of Ramgarh Tal. The management has bought part of the lake and is planning on making it a recreational area. In a later stadium they want to establish a floating hotel.

The maintenance of the car made us loose almost half a day, so it was late at night when we arrived in Ayodhya. We took a room in the Tourist Bungalow, Pathik Niwas Saket. A double was Rs 300. The restaurant served the most basic vegetarian food that I ate in India. The dhal was not half as good than when you had it from a street stall. The people were all friendly, but the food is terribly bland.

Greatest experience in Ayodhya was visiting the Babri Masjid. There was an already huge queue in the street near the first gate. I was advised to leave my camera in the car as carrying one can already cause problems here. The whole complex and its surrounding are guarded by armed soldiers of the national (not state) army. First we had to cross through a metal detector and a first checkpoint. From there we were directed to another gate where I had to show my passport and was interrogated by an intelligence officer (that's what he called himself). He was very friendly but thorough. A lot of questions were asked and it took quite a while. Only I, as a foreigner, had to undergo this procedure. I was very polite to the officer and kept smiling all the time. He took a bit of a liking to me and directed me to the front of another huge queue. A tip was appreciated but seemingly not really expected. After a while you tend to start giving money to people merely talking to you, because everybody expects something. When you then meet someone who doesn't, it appears strange. After getting in front of all these people, we had to walk through a long maze-like corridor of iron gates. Soldiers kept watch on everyone. I felt a bit like a prisoner at times. Really strange. Then, there was another checkpoint where my passport was checked again and I was asked a few questions again. No friendly guy here, though. We continued. At a certain point, an army officer was whipping up the devotees to start singing. Everybody complied and another mass hysteria was born (if not already there). On the birthplace of Rama itself there's nothing but a small shrine. A bit disappointing in itself. But it's coming here that creates the experience. After the shrine, much less security was prevalent and you only had to walk out the other side again (even that took some time, because of the crowds). At the exit, many kids try to sell you postcards, even very bloody ones with pictures from the riots. It's worth buying them, even if only to see at which place you're actually standing, to see what actually happened on the grounds you're treading on at the very moment.

The building of a new great temple for Rama has been initiated. I saw the scale model and it looked really impressive and astonishing. It will be built some distance from the actual birthplace but it will be huge.

An important temple that every visitor to Ayodhya should visit, is the Ram Mahal Temple. It's always very crowded. It's interesting because it offers a great opportunity to see the food for the sadhu's being prepared. A lot of these holy men can be seen sitting on the floor selecting and cleaning the ingredients. The food is then cooked in very large iron bowls (the wok-like type). It's great to see. Unfortunately in this temple I was hassled (in a rather big way) for money again.
Right across the street is the Shreemad Valmiki Ramayan Bhavan temple. It's a very interesting place to visit, because inside all the 24000 verses of the Ramayana are inscribed on marble slabs that are attached to the walls. The stories, known as the Valmiki Ramayana, tell about Lord Rama's life and exploits on this earth and are compiled and written by the first poet Maharshi Valmiki. They were originally written in Sanskrit. All the different versions of the Ramayana in various Indian and foreign languages owe their inspiration to Valmiki. The temple is big and spacious and is rather beautiful. I found it more impressive than the similar Tulsi Manas Temple in Varanasi.

The temple society organises a lot of activities. According to a leaflet they publish, these include : a free library and reading room, the International Shri Sitaram Nam Bank, the Universal Yoga Sadhana Centre, the publishing of a religious magazine called Avadh Mani Prabha, daily discourses - Satsanga, daily Ramayana classes, publication of spiritual literature, performances of Ram Leela and Ras Leela and a public dispensary. It's a relaxed place. Donations are highly appreciated but not a must at all.

When we went to see the Hanumangadhi, we needed a place to park the car. A friendly sweets seller near the Raja Dwara (which is, by the way, also a fine sight) waved to us and suggested to park it in front of his stall. It was a tight fit, but the stall owner directed, running 'round the car like a madman. When we got out, he insisted that we should buy some 'prashad'. If we didn't, we had to move our car. Of course, we didn't yield to such blackmail. We found another space and visited the Hunamangadhi after all. Not only the temple but also the fort with the guns actually lying on top of the sloping walls was a great sight.

After that we continued to nearby Faizabad. The first sights we came to were the mosques in the chowk area. Especially the green one is beautiful, making - together with the crowded street scene - a great picture.

We went to see the mausoleums of Bahu Begum and her husband, Nawab Shujaddaula. They're both architecturally interesting. You cannot go inside the first one. I tried to bribe the caretaker, but he was very reluctant to let me in; he was afraid that his superiors would catch us. When the amount of money became interesting enough for him (still only a few rupees), he showed me in. It was certainly worth the tip, but if you can't get in, I'd say don't lose sleep over it.

I spent a quiet afternoon in Guptar Park, which is definitely out of the way, being in the Cantonment area. The park itself was a bit disappointing, but the temples and the riverside made up for it. On the other side of the Ghaghara River, cremations were taking place. The male members of the mourning family were sitting on this side of the water. The elder son had shaved his head, indicating that his father had died (if the mother dies, the youngest son shaves his head). I silently watched their and other people's whereabouts from a distance. There were several small stalls selling food. Some of it was very good (and cheap).

First Trip To India: Varanasi, the Holy of Holies

Chapter Eight - Varanasi, the Holy of Holies

After spending some time in Allahabad, I moved on to the most hectic (and dirty) city that I had ever seen : Varanasi. Hectic and dirty, but also mighty fascinating and inviting for a long stay. I checked out several hotels in the old city, but found all of them intolerably dirty. Especially the Seema Hotel on Mandanpura Road. Singles/doubles were Rs 200/225. I checked out several rooms (singles and doubles) and found all of them very dirty, especially the beds. They looked like the sheets had never been changed before. Some of the once white sheets were - honestly ! - black in the middle. Sick of spending hours trying to get through the evening traffic rush, I decided not to wait until an acceptable place popped up, but headed for the four-star Hotel Hindustan International, which had - comparing to the rest available in Varanasi - very good rates. A very large and clean single with actually two beds, bathroom and bathtub (!), colour TV and all the rest you expect to find in hotel of this type cost US$ 38 (a double would have been $62). Calculated to the going conversion rate at that time, this came to Rs 1170. This is cheap for a four-star, I think. And compared to some other places, it certainly wasn't a bad deal. Remember me talking about my first night in the Hotel Ashoka Palace ? Fourteen hundred rupees ! Remember the Connaught Palace, which is also four-star ? US$ 76 ! A four-star can never be really cheap - and you will have to tip more than you like (but isn't that the case everywhere in India ?) - but this one is actually good value for money. I even found the service was personal; also exceptional for big hotels. The food in the restaurant was the best I had of my whole trip and not so expensive. The head waiter is a very, very friendly (but classy) guy. Try and ask him for meal suggestions. He'll be delighted. I developed a really good understanding with this fellow during the days that I stayed there. At the end, he had my dishes prepared by the 'chef de cuisine' in person. A great way of savouring Indian food the way it has to be prepared. I am not a culinary freak but this was all really delicious ! The head waiter also kept me informed of Belgian people coming and going, although I - of course - didn't ask him to do that. One time, I was glad he did, because I had a great conversation with a Belgian guy, guiding a Belgian tour group. He told me great stories about travel in India with tour groups. Some of the people in these groups, he said, are totally unprepared to come to India. At home, they read a travel brochure advertising a fairy-tale-like country with only royal accommodation. Sometimes elder folks who have never even flown before, come here and are totally baffled by the culture, the religion and the traditions. Sometimes not. It depends, he said. But in every group there is at least one person who is terrified being in this country. Terrified, because in India you cannot escape from the problems of the man of the street. In fact, India's life IS the streets. No matter in what luxurious hotel you stay, you only have to look out of the windows to be confronted with the realities behind the fairy-tale. Stepping outside is stepping in. Some people go as far as not even joining in a guided excursion. They just sit in their hotels rooms, waiting for the bus to transport them to their next flight.

Astonishing, isn't it ? It's hard to imagine, but it's actually true. Some people in his group asked me about my travels so far. Some of them looked horrified when I told them that I was travelling alone, others were astonished to hear that I was already in the country for about one month and still not ill. Some of them were fascinated by this, but would never do it themselves.

We also talked about personal matters. He had come to India just to guide groups around and after about half a year he would have been returned to Belgium. Now, he had changed his mind. He was going to settle down here. He had met an Indian girl who he was going to marry soon. I asked him how he got in touch with her as I found it very hard to get into close contact with any Indian girl or woman but the most progressive ones in the big cities. This is probably the trip on which I talked to women least. It's far worse than in Muslim-dominated countries. He agreed. He had experienced the same 'communication problems' as me. An Indian guy who was sitting with us, also agreed but could not give a sensible explanation why. For the tour guide it had been easier, he told me. His future wife was working in the same business as he was. So they had met.
He also told me that the tour operator he was working for, had changed to this hotel after having several people suffering of food-poisoning in the Hotel Taj Ganges.
Varanasi has a lot of interesting sights for us, travellers. I tried to visit as many as possible. One day I got up (very) early and went to see the activities going on at the ghats. First by boat, later also on foot, making my way through the great maze of narrow alleys. I didn't feel claustrophobic; it was great ! It's also great when you have a guide. I tried it that way too.

Hiring a boat for a trip on the Ganges to see the ghats was as entertaining as it was in Allahabad to get to Sangam. The first asking price was also ridiculously high and they won't come down very much. Seven hundred rupees was the absolute bottom (I tried with several guys. This was it !). This is, to hire the entire boat. Hiring a place in a boat is cheaper (divide the above amount by the amount of people; normally around fifteen or twenty here). Promised (read : agreed) 'tour' was starting from Dasaswamedh Ghat to Bachraj Ghat, then back past Dasaswamedh Ghat up to Trilochan Ghat. Then back to Dasaswamedh, of course. Promised boating time was two hours. Reality was a bit different from that. The outer boundaries were the Almagir mosque and Shivala Ghat. Boating time was 90 minutes.

The burning ghat of Manikarnika was a great (sorry, interesting) place to see from the river but going there on foot is a must. It's fascinating to see all these piles of wood lying there, waiting to be burned together with the bodies. There's also a big pair of scales to weigh the wood. It's sold by the kilogram. I visited the small Shiva (who else ?) temple which looks out over the burning ghat. I came here with my own guide, but a 'tour' of this ghat had to be given by one of the priests here. He was of course after my money too, but nevertheless he was a rather amiable person. If you want to take photographs at this ghat, you will certainly need a priest here. You will then be allowed to take pictures of the woodpiles, the scales and everything else except the bodies being cremated. A little trick that I used here is to tell the priest that you want to take his photo while he is standing in one of the tower-like structures that look out over the ghat. He'll be delighted (hopefully). Put a wide (e.g. 24 mm) wide-angle lens on and you'll be able to snap one of the pyres (I was). By paying over Rs 500 you might even be able to shoot the whole burning scene. I decided not to waste my money and took a lot of good photographs of the cremations with a strong telephoto lens while on the river. I was never hassled this way and also did it at the Harishchandra Ghat. Near Manikarnika Ghat there's also a special house where very, very poor or very, very ill people are housed, awaiting their deaths. The priest showed me the place and told me that the temple holders of Manikarnika allow these people's bodies to be burned on account of the temple community. At Shivala Ghat you can also see one of Mother Theresa's homes.

At Rana Ghat, near the way marker to the New Vishnu Rest House, one can see the water level indicator marks that show how high the water of river Ganges was. According to the marks, it's been at its highest in 1978 and 1948 (it was way above most of the small gates leading up the stairs), with 1957 a close second.

At Dasaswamedh Ghat (maybe elsewhere too) someone may come up to you and reach out to shake hands. If you do, you might end up getting a hand massage which is not cheap at all. I was warned about this by an Australian dude when somebody was planning on doing this to me.

The Nepalese temple was interesting, but hassles for big money also occur here.

Among the other places that I visited in Varanasi are...

...the Golden Temple. Great, only too bad that you can't go in. I saw it from a shop called Uday Silk Kala Kendra. The people were friendly and not pushy here. Their items looked very good and although I'm not a connoisseur, the prices looked pretty okay too. There are a lot of guards around here and Aurangzeb's mosque, making a visit to the latter nothing to speak of.

...Durga or Monkey Temple. Non-Hindus can now go in. Somebody told me that it was due to the government putting pressure on the temple management to loosen up their policy towards foreigners. And they did ! The temple is certainly worth the visit.

...Ram Nagar Fort & Museum. The return ferry trip across the Ganges costs three rupees. It's Rs 1.50 to enter the Ram Nagar museum. It's interesting enough, but some of it (e.g. the display of the cars) is totally neglected. Also the buildings themselves are in a sorry state. Interesting items for me were the present(s) given to the Maharaja by the deceased king of Belgium, Boudewijn I and the really big, old clock that was ignored for many years but has been repaired a while ago. All in all, I found the short trip to Ram Nagar more of an experience than the fort itself. Some people I talked to, including Indians, agreed with me.

...Bharat Mata temple. In one word : fantastic. Good views from upstairs, but they'll cost you five rupees. There's a very good book stand here selling lots of books and postcards about Varanasi & surroundings and about religious subjects.

...Tulsi Manas temple. Not bad at all, but describing it as a 'very enjoyable' visit would be exaggerating. Only if you can read Hindi, are the texts on the walls interesting. The different main chapters are denoted in English, but that's as good as nothing.

...New Vishwanath Temple. An interesting and beautiful temple, the interior as well as the exterior. Photography is not a problem here and there are some good opportunities : the architecture, the rhinoceros outside and the lingams inside. The activities around the main lingam make a great shot, but there's also a very beautifully sculptured, black Shiva lingam, with the faces of the god all over it.

When in Varanasi, a visit to nearby Sarnath is essential and I liked it a lot. My visit to the excavation area was considerably enlivened by a Burmese monk who accompanied me. He was a first timer here too and wanted to know more about the place himself. I hired a guide (very cheap; just a matter of rupees) to show us around.

The archaeological museum here has a great collection, the eye-catcher obviously the capital of the Ashoka pillar. Then there's the great, well-known Buddha sculpture too and if you've just visited the excavation site, you're interested in seeing the large 'umbrella' which used to cover the Buddha meditation site. It's only too bad (again) that photography is not allowed inside the museum. All bags have to be left at the ticket booth which has a left luggage service. Unfortunately, I couldn't cram my bag into the lockers. It was too big. If you're alone and you want to see the museum (everybody would want to, if only to see the capital of the pillar), then there's only one option left and that is to leave your valuables with the luggage guard, an old 'n' friendly guy. I took my chances. While inside, I couldn't help but rushing through to be able to return to my bag with my invaluable photographs as soon as possible. When I did, everything was still there and I handed the guard a good tip. Ticket price is Rs 0.50 per person.

Between the museum and the excavations (but nearer to the latter) is also a welcoming Sikh gurdwara. Another welcoming, but very touristy place, is the Mulgandha Kuti Vihar. Inside the temple there's a good booklet about the frescoes available. Unfortunately, it's hellishly expensive : Rs 75 for only 20 small pages. Continuing past the museum along Ashoka Marg, you'll come to the Chow Khandi stupa. It's not that interesting, but is also less touristy and makes a nice short escape from the crowds. It dates back to the Gupta period.

To conclude my visit of Sarnath, I took a tour of the monasteries. It may look a bit stupid to try to rank them in descending order of interest, but I do it anyway, just to give an idea of which one(s) I'd recommend to visit if you're short of time (like some people that I saw and were on a package tour). Here goes : the Tibetan, Japanese, Thai, Chinese and Burmese.

After busy Varanasi, I went to Jaunpur. The evening I went there, it was Diwali, one of the big Hindu festivals. So, the trip and the stay were enlivened with fireworks, crackers, sweets and oil lamps burning everywhere. It would have been great to have been in Varanasi that time, but I decided to leave anyway. I don't really know why. Perhaps for several reasons. First, I felt that I had to move on at that time because I had already overstayed my (very rough) schedule. There were more places to be seen, so no matter if you take a liking to a place, you have to move on. Secondly, I wanted to experience the celebrations in a smaller place to see how things work there. And last, I suppose that I got a bit scared of getting burns, getting deaf and getting blind because of the massive fireworks and bomb attacks. What ? I'm a sissy ? Maybe, but I heard some frightening stories from some more sensible Indian folks while strolling through Varanasi the night before the big celebrations (there were already explosions everywhere, even at that time). A very good advice for all people participating or wanting to participate in the celebrations, is to take good care not to get hurt by this stuff. In Belgium and the Netherlands there are a lot of regulations which to respect when handling fireworks and regardless of this, every year still many people get burned badly or get deaf. In India, there are no rules. So take care.