The Road to Varanasi

The final bush camp of the trip was in some wasteland in the shadow of the ancient temple of Orcha. On the way there we were given the option of instead of camping staying in a nice hotel just down the road with all the mod cons and a swimming pool, although tempting I had enjoyed the previous bush camps and I didn’t want to miss the last one. A number of people were suffering with the famous Delhi belly and Imodium was the drug of choice more just about everyone, with conversation dominated by toilet activity. Some people were suffering more than others and TJ decided that he could not face a night in the bush and took the hotel option. We pitched our tents and started to cook on the portable equipment. As frequently happens we were joined by several of the locals, including the resident holly man and the usual posy of children, who insisted on helping us with the collection of wood and the fire making. The Holy man just sat there as he couldn’t speak English the children’s English were excellent, and much better than i expected for a remote outpost. We played games as we entertained the children and they entertained us back in equal measure, then I showed the children a card trick expecting the usual puzzlement expressed as people always try to figure our how you did it and what the trick was. This was not the response I received, India is still a very backward country and religion, gods, holy men and magic are a part of their everyday life. Ther Children took the trick as magic, and were bewildered and slightly scared, a few of them ran back to tell their family about the magic man. This was not quite C3PO being worshiped by the Ewoks but I was conscious that i had crossed a line and deeply infringed on their culture. So Im sorry magic circle, but i had no choice, other than to show them how the trick was done, no magic.
After dinner and the obligatory rum and cokes we settled down to bed with some people really starting to feel very ill. My nights sleep being constantly disturbed by the sound of people running to the bushes to empty their guts. We woke up in the morning to pack our tents away with a large number of the group looking decidedly worse for wear. Pale skin, sweating bent double with pain from their stomach. A number of the group could not face a long road trip, and decided to stay in Orcha at the hotel and catch us up in Panner. Helen was undecided clearly not well but determined to carry on. We stopped at the hotel in the morning for an hour or so, while plans were made and transport arranged to the meet up. I made full use of the pool, although not feeling my best the rejuvenating power of a swimming pool should never be underestimated. Helen joined me at the pool but had no bikini, but desperately wanted a dip to wash some of India off her. She suggested swimming in the undies, but their were a group of Indian guys in the pool, and they were already curious about a 6ft blonde. We decided that once in it would not be a problem, so as long as she could get to the pool without arising too much excitement we had a plan. Unfortunately her under where did not leave much to the imagination and i told her to cover up pronto. Pictures can be seen at www. Helengetsherbitsout.com.

The remainder of the group set of on the bus, rather pleased to have more space as the journey was uncomfortable on the bus when it was full without a seat to spare. We were heading to Panner National Park via the erotic temples of Khajuraho, the journey took longer as everyone was no taking hydration much more seriously, we were stopping constantly at small villages and truck stops to pick up water and fruit. I was sat towards the front of the bus, i could hear Helen calling from the back, i tuned around as she mouthed can you tell the boys to bull over i need to go to the toilet, i mouthed back, one or two using my fingers as an aid, she held up two fingers, given the current state of everybody’s stomachs this is boardering on an emergency, there is no can you wait five minutes. I leant forward and told Adam and Steve, we looked out at the scenery, nothing but open arid farm land for miles, Steve asked rather hopefully if I thought she could wait, we both knew the answer. Then we came to a patch of land with a couple of tree a few small bushes and what i think was some kind of sewer outlet or drainage tunnel which went under the road. Me and Helen got out she disappeared into the tunnel while I acted as a look out. Looking into the fields I noticed several Indian farmers both men and women dotted through the field who had stopped to look at us. My initial reaction was to try and stand in the way of then and Helen to try and protect her modesty, but i looked at there faces, it nothing for the Indians, males and females, to do their business in a field, for that matter they do it in cities in the middle of the street, they were just looking at us with bewilderment. Although i have been in India for 7 weeks now I still startles me when I realise that the Indians in remote areas are fascinated by white people. Its not the blonde with her knickers around her ankles that is drawing attention it our white skin. Some of the women looked on as hard as the men, perhaps surprised that white people also shit in fields.
By the time we arrive at Khajuraho, most of us are feeling pretty ropey, the problem with Imodium is that although it stops stuff coming out it effectively constipates you tying your stomach in knots and giving you cramps, it also offers no medical help it just a plug, and as such does not offer any help with the other symptoms of dehydration food poisoning or what ever else you may have. Helen can go no further and checks into a hotel with Steve as company . The rest of the group stop at a cafe for some food and refreshments, its pretty much cheese toasties, omelettes and lots of liquid all around nobody can stomach a curry or anything more exotic before we enter the temple complex. The temples were build from 950 to 1050, originally there were over 80 temples with 22 now remaining. They had long been abandoned and were only rediscovered in the 19th century by British explorers. We were given a guided tour, we were stood at the first small temple for about 10 minutes while the guide explained in great detail about the Hindu religion, cant take much more of this so I decide to just walk around and have a look on my own, the temples are fairly small and build out of what looks like sand stone and are covered in ornate carvings, some of which are pretty rude. The depict erotic images mainly of orgies. It made me think that every generation think that they have discovered sex, yet a thousand years ago the Indians were making carvings as rude as anything you will find on the internet. I find exploring the temples on your own more satisfying that in a group, although you don’t learn about the temples history they were often used for meditation if there are 20 of you inside you lose the sense of spirituality that accompanies these mystic structures. Also these temples we lost for hundreds of years, how much of what the guide explains could be accurate?
We later head back to the cafe before setting of to Panner. The bus is quiet and the mood a little low., the floor of the bus is covered in news papers and dotted with bowls for people to be sick in. Im one of the lucky ones, my stomach is knotted and i feel worn and worse for ware but many of the faces are grey people sit clenched up holding their stomachs trying to sleep to avoid the discomfort. We stop several times as people are sick and we have to empty the buckets. Sat just behind me to my right i hear this disturbing primal guttural roar, nick is being sick into a bucket. The air fills with the sweet smell of vomit that turns your stomach and stings your eyes. It just keeps coming out of him as he calmly sits there and empties his rotten guts. The bus screams to a stop, i realise that he is about to reach the top of the bucket, I jump up and grab another bucket, and think to myself all i have to do is pass him the new bucket, take the old bucket and throw the vile concoction away. As i move towards him the smell is just too much and i can bare to hold his sick bucket, my already week stomach turns, i throw the bucket to the person next to him turn and run to the door, open it and stick my head out as I eject a mouth full of vomit. I hang on to the doorway taking deep breaths of fresh air. “Nate move” was the shout from behind before I felt two hands on my back as I was pushed out of the truck, as Suze was sick over my shoulder. I walked to the back of the truck and took several deep breaths before getting back on. We drove on into the night towards Panner, as Steve had stayed with Helen, Adam was trying to drive and navigate. We pulled up into a town, there hoards of Indians we wondering aimlessly around, usually Indian towns are noisy and filled with hustle and bustle, this was different, quite, it was as if we had entered an Indian version of Day of the Dead. Adam stopped several times to ask for directions every time the Indian pointed a different direction, although they didn’t know where the park was they always want to try to help. Eventually Adam found a road through the middle of a forest which he thought the road to the park was on, we drove up and down several times until he found the turning. Im not surprised he missed it what we turned onto wasn’t a road, more a corridor of forest where there were no trees. We drove along in the pitch black, with the only light coming from the headlights. The track was bumpy with hazardous craters and fallen trees littering the sides. It was difficult to see where the track was, as we sometimes drove into the wrong gap, only to find that the other gap was the path. We turned left and drove towards some lights in the distance until we came to a farm building that was the end of this path. As we tried to do a three point turn an Indian man came out and stood there motionless shining a touch at us. Adam decided to get out and talk to him. It felt like we were in the middle of a horror movie. A group get on a bus to travel around india, when they are struck down with an illness, they lose one of the tour guides, then they get lost and drive around a town where the people are different to all the other Indians you have met, then they decide to drive into the forest (no don’t drive into the forest you shout at the TV), then you come to a strange isolated farmhouse with a strange man stood outside (run away) then the other tour guide gets out of the track to talk to him (don’t get out of the truck). In the movie Adam dies and the rest of the group struggle to survive in the Indian wilderness while they are hunted down one by one by blood thirsty Indian zombies. As it happens he was a very nice man and gave Adam Directions to the Animal Park. The accommodation at the park is in bungalows that are randomly dotted around about 100square meters of otherwise unmodified forest. They added to the horror movie feel, they were ramshackle and worn made of concrete with thatched roofs, the cabin in Evil Dead 2 sprang to mind. I, and most of the others went to bed, with more Imodium and some rehydration sachets, only to find that i was sharing my cabin with some very noisy but difficult to find insects. Then just to complete the horror movie effect just after i had managed to drop off the most almighty storm him blowing my door open, i jumped up with a freight. Some of the other cabins had their roofs ripped off. There was a safari at 5am which I declined, apparently the chance of seeing a tiger was slight and lady luck had deserted us for this part of the trip. I wanted to have a lie in, I wanted to rest, I wanted to recuperate. But India is not that kind, at dawn I was woken again with banging on the roof, it sounded like somebody was out front trying to throw things over the roof, but they kept landing then bouncing off and on to the trees behind. I lay there, please just give me a break. I looked out of the window, there was another bang on the roof, then a monkey leapt of my roof and into the tree. My cabin was on route for the monkey breakfast run. Once the troop and grouped up and they had stopped jumping onto my roof i went for a look. The roof had a roof terrace, the tables and chairs had been scattered by a mixture of last night’s storm and the meandering monkeys. The monkeys in the tree all stopped and looked at, there was an uneasy stand of. The monkey eyed me with a mixture of indifference and contempt. They knew that if it came to a fight they would win, I was sure of this also, but they also knew that there would be consequences. They most certainly did not view me as superior just because I can read and write, they can climb better than me which is much more useful for getting food. I decided that retreat was my best option.
The walking wounded congregated at the bar, which was on stilts overlooking a swirling river, everybody gathered around with energy levels at zero, soft drink after soft drink was consumed. The group returned from the safari, they saw some monkeys, but little else, our resident monkeys congregated in the trees above our head. Suze and I decided to go for a swim in the river, we descended down the rugged overgrown river bank and waded into the murky swirling river. We had been told earlier that it is very rare for crocodiles to be in the river this time of year and they were currently up river. Its strange but as you submerge into the river with the muddy water meaning that you can see into the water “probably no crocodiles” really isn’t enough. After a minute in the water we bravely got out.
I got talking to one of the conservationist whose job it was to protect and nurture the tigers. He was telling me a story about how a male tiger killed two tiger cubs as they we not his and he views them as future competition for food. I asked if he considered intervening. He responded with the answer I expected, the prime directive of conservationists that that is the natural order of things and that he can not interfere. I understand the decision, but the tiger population is in serious decline and many think that they are in danger of being extinct in the not too distant future. Their demise is in large due to interference from humans with hunting and more recently the destruction of their natural habitat, if so, then surely we can make a more active input in their preservation. In the example given why not frighten the adult tiger away and move the cubs to safety.
We had a quiet evening where the people we had left stranded around India turned and there was a subdued atmosphere, more and more people falling ill including one of the drivers Adam. The next day we set of on what was going to be a 10 hour drive, which Steve would have to do himself due to Adam falling sick. We had picked up two other Dragoman crew in Delhi who were going to take the truck over from Kathmandu, they offered their services, but although not as bad as Adam both of them we also ill and Steve did not think that they would be able to drive in India for the first time as they were, especially on the crazy roads to Varanasi. It was now officially the truck of death, the heat was searing in the late forties, again we stopped constantly for liquid and fruit. One of the reasons for the constant stopping is that with in 15 minutes the water you have bought to cool yourself down is the temperature of hot tap water, I think I pored most of it over my head. Although my stomach feels better i am exhausted, although I have had a fantastic time the heat and the constant travelling has taken it out of me. As only one of three who has been on the truck since Chennai I try to help Steve out by keeping up morale, buying water, dishing out rehydration sachets and fruit. It is in times where things are tough and difficult it is important that a group stick together and work as a team. I found myself occasionally exasperated with some of the peoples inability to look beyond their own needs. Buying the last two one litre bottles of water, leaving the person behind to buy warm water despite the fact that by the time they get to their second bottle it will be warm. We drive on through the heat and the dust the truck is quiet everyone is feeling the strain, we break sharply, then drive on, I look at Steve, he drives for a living and has been in India for a year he is always calm and relaxed in the middle of the Indian traffic as it swirls like a flock of starlings, he looks stressed, his face gripped with concentration his skin tight to his bones eyes bulging out of his head he is holding onto the steering wheel as if live depends on it. Steve is struggling. As the hours role on this becomes more apparent, but still someone asks if the hotel we are staying at has air conditioning, he struggles to remember but says that he thinks so depending on the room, air conditioning is more expensive, he is then asked how much more or is there a cheaper hotel with AC. Steve looks like he is on deaths door and trying his best to get us to Varanasi, all Lyndon is interested in is how hot she might be later i snap, “the hotel will or wont have AC, it might cost a few pound more, you will find out when we get their, right now it doesn’t matter”, Lynden replied, “ill I’m asking”, “all your asking is how you might be later, you you you. You can find out then, it will make no difference if you know now, how does Steve look to you?
Its getting dark and we are on the outskirts of Varanasi, we are lost, as we cross and re cross a river, we are apparently trying to find a guide who is going to guide us into the sprawling mass that is Varanasi. Steve pulls over. We go to get refreshments, Im stood at a shop with a couple of others, all exhausted, hot, thirsty stomachs in knots, Im about to buy lots of liquid for everyone. Lyndon joins the back of the group and says that she has no money, i explain its ok ill pay. She is suddenly at the front we of the queue for the tiny shack that serves as a shop, and starts asking for specific drinks one by one, milkshakes by flavour, fruit juices by fruit, “Lynden he has what he has in the fridge, this isn’t Tesco” she orders a Miranda and starts to walk away, “Lynden, i was going to buy for everyone”, she looks blank for a second before it starts to dawn on her that she has only ordered for herself, “oh what does everyone want”, Im not sure how far she got through that sentence before I cut her off, “Lynden don’t bother, 5 Miranda, 5 Sprite, 5 Pepsi, 5 water. We cross the road back to the truck, Steve is sprawled on the floor, Nick who used to be a GP is with him, I shake up my Pepsi several times releasing the air to flatten it, apparently flat Pepsi is one of the best rehydrates you can have. I pass it to Steve, he looks awful, I start to walk away to give him some space, I exchange a glance with nick who shakes his head, its clear that Steve is not going to be able to drive us any further. I walk across to the shop to replace my Pepsi, pondering how we are getting to get to Varanasi i look around at the town we have stopped in, Im sure there are no hotels here, we could camp but, but where. As i reach the other side Becks (one of the two dragoman crew who joined in Delhi) approaches me, she explains that she needs by help, we have a plan, Andy (the other crew member) is going to drive but he does not know the way, we are going to find a tuk tuk, and pay him to drive to Varanasi with the truck following. We find a tuk tuk and enter a cafe, we find the driver, he is having food with his 3 year old child. He does not want to drive us, we know that this will turn into a negotiation with us in a poor position to haggle over the price. Eventually he wants 500 rupees (£7), this is extortionate or very cheap, depending on your point of view. We get in and drive of the tuk driver stops at a petrol station and explains that the price does not include the petrol. We have no leverage for negotiation. We drive for about 10 minutes with the truck trailing when the truck breaks and stops. We go back, we have found the guide, he has been stood on a street corner for almost 4 hours waiting for us. Our saviour.

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