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...There we were - Varanasi station, 4.30am. You'd think it might be pretty dead at this hour but you would be wrong. Touts of all shapes and sizes crowd the platforms at all ours and floor space is at a premium due to the many Indians using it as a bed and waiting room rolled into one.

Tip toeing our way through the slumbering crowd, we met a British couple (whose bag had been stolen on the train... eek) and let them tag along (their guide book had been in their bag). After the usual hassle, hussle and bussle we secured an auto-rickshaw, crammed all four of us, the driver and our gear and sped off into the early morning darkness. 15 minutes later we pulled over and the driver led us on foot through the labrynine passages of the 'old town'.

We arrived to find everything locked but some loud noises from our dirver soon brought someone to the door. Rooms weren't available until midday (check out is also midday - we don't think they clean between guests) but their was a free boat ride leaving in about two minutes. Still shattered from a sleepless over-night train we dumped our bags and tagged along.

Back into the cobblestone maze we went and arrived to the river as the sky was turning grey. About 15 of us crammed into an old row boat probably designed for 10 and off we went.

The ghats (steps that run along the riverbank and down into the water) are the centre of spiritual life in this most holy city and dawn is the best times to see them. All along the bank the people pray, meditate, bathe and make offerings to their God/s of choice. The solemnity and majisty of the occasion is slightly deminished by the hoards of boat-going tourists, but we can't complain too much about that!

Back in the boat, lotus flower candles were handed out and promptly charged for. As we glided along the ghats the early morning air carried to us the chants and prayers of the devout worshipers many of whom had travelled afar for this very moment. As the sun rose the scene became slightly less surreal as the sounds of everyday life added a touch of the ordinary to this extrordinary scene. An hour after it had begun the trip was over, but not before we spotted the torso of a small boy, bloated and floating past our boat. (More on this phenomenon later)

After breakfast (cornflakes - yey!) we went for a walk along the river where an old man appeared and eagerly shook Ben's hand. Within seconds he was in a sort of gentle armlock - Knowing that whatever this was would be chargable but finding it too pleasent to resist. There was more - the man had a matt, which he rolled out on the pavement. For the next thirty minutes Ben was part-treated, part-subjected to his first public full body massage. Worryingly the old guy seemed to spend a rather unnecessary time on his buttocks, to the probable amusement to Karnit and the many bemused onlookers! Despite this, it was quite a pleasent experience until the guy demanded 600 rupees for his trouble, as this was equal to two nights accommodation, we graciously declined, gave him 200 and left him muttering to himself, but still with a respectable wad of cash in his rough but highly skilled hands. Such is India, where the first price is never the last.

That night there was a day-night match between Australia and India (we're talking about cricket now, incidently) and, being Indian and therefore fanatical, the hotel staff were watching it in the 'restaurant'. We had a beer and met two Israelis, eager but unschooled in the ways of this mysterious sport. We spent a few hours hanging out and by the end of the night they were cheering louder than most.

On one of our many excursions along the riverside ghats, we came across a massive pavillion, indian classical music and a gathering crowd. They were gathering in anticipation of the arrival of their Guru (who's name escapes us at this time). It was the first address of a 3 day event and a nice Indian man came up and was happy to explain it all to us. He also offered to translate everything for us if we wanted to stay for the main event. We didn't, but caught some of it from the sidelines - picture much singing, dancing and general euphoria from a crowd responding to every statement, every exclamation and every line of song. It was - in our opinion - very cool indeed.

Like the 'spiritual life' of the city, our stay revolved largely around the ganges river, as it's difficult to walk for more than about 30 seconds away from the river without getting hopelessly lost. The 'old town' is a vibrant mix of commerce, crowds and confusion. Alleyways all seem to look the same and nowhere ever leads where you think it will. Usually it leads to more shops, the river or is blocked by an immovable cow. On one occasion we actually had to climb a bit of wall to get around one! The scariest thought is that it will choose that moment to releive itself. Luckily it didn't and we made it past unsoiled.

One aspect of Varanasi that has to be mentioned is the presence of the 'burning ghats'. The city is one of the holiest Hindu sites and is the place everyone wants to be cremated. This happens in public and the ghats do their grisly (to us) business all day and well into the night. Business is the right word too, as the family selects a type of wood with which their loved one is to be burned (at varying cost). The body is wrapped in cloth and dipped in the river before being placed on (sometimes in) the wood pile which is set alight. You might expect tearful relatives, wailing or shouts of 'why oh why?' but none of this is apparent in reality. Death is seen as part of a natural cycle and being cremated here is seen as the most fitting end for a hindu. As such it is a strangely casual affair, with people sitting on the steps chatting just a few metres from the burning area itself. When the burning is complete, the ashes are scattered into the river and anything that doesn't get incinerated is cast into the water by the next of kin (usually the son of the deceased, if there is one).

Under some circumstances, the deceased is not actually burned but simply released into the river. Circumstances for this send-off include children under five, lepers, sadhus, pregnant women, and snake-bite victims.


It was due to this that we found ourselves watching a section of a child's body bobbing around near our boat on the first morning. While this might sound a bit grim to our 'western' minds, it gets even stranger when you notice (and you can't help but notice) that all this happens just meters from people bathing, swimming and praying - in the water!

From our guidebook: 'the water has 1.5 million faecal coliform bacteria per 100ml of water. In water that is safe for bathing this should be less than 500'

Yes, you read it right - that's 3000 times the safe amount!

No one seems to have told the locals though, to whom this all just is a part of life. For example on our last morning in Varanasi our boat broke down. The problem was underneath the boat and the boatman had no option but to dive in and fix it from below. None of us envied him but he soon returned unscathed saying that he had grown up here and so it wasn't a problem. That's lucky then!

Being a popular traveller's hangout, there were many travellers around. Most of whom were dressed like hippies, at least when compared to us. So it was that we decided to join the ranks of the idiots, and set out to purchase new wardrobes (the locals don't actually wear these clothes, just the tourists going for a sort of 'ethnic' vibe). Between us we picked up 3 shirts and 3 pairs of trousers - all for under £8. One of the shirts was even tailored to fit... at no charge!

Now that we had draped ourselves in pseudo-indian cloth only one thing stood between us and our next destination, the self proclaimed Yoga capital of the universe - an 18 hour overnight train to Rishikesh.

Latest pics are all at Our Flickr page.

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