Last hurrah in the city of the dead

I flew from Port Blair to Calcutta, thus ending 8 and a half months of solid over-landing. Arrival was a bit of a shock at first - after the peace of the Andamans, the chaos of Sudder Street was overwhelming. With my flight home booked for 17 days, I had no intention of hanging around Calcutta, and had bought my train ticket to Varanasi already, set to leave that night. So, I dropped my camera in to be repaired, and spent the day in the parks watching, trying, and failing to understand cricket. I guess after 6 months in Pakistan and India, there's no hope for this Irishman. The guy did a real DIY job on the camera, somehow managing to fix it with a shirt button and pin. And then I was off to Varanasi.

Varanasi is the holiest city in all of Hinduism, a place where the aged come to die, and be released from the cycle of rebirth. It also has a reputation amongst travellers as being the craziest place in India, a place where weirdos, con artists, pick-pockets, drug dealers, and even flesh-eating babas gather to take advantage of the tourist parade. The Lonely Planet dedicates one full column to its' 'Dangers and Anoyances' section on the city.

All of which is quite unnessesary. I found the city to be a fascinating place, a freak-show of a sort, yes, but still a place where the past is touchable, and traditions that have remained unchanged for hundreds if not thousnads of years, continue to thrive. The most infamous tales related by travellers involve the famous cremations that take place along the banks of the Ganges, where the ghats lead down to the river. Tourists are welcome to watch, and, if hustled, urged to donate. The bodies are carried on bamboo stretchers down to the river through the winding narrow lanes of the old town, before being cremated on a pile of snadal-wood, the ashes then being thrown into the river.

Not everyone is cremated. Children under the age of 10 are thrown straight into the river. Sadhus, pregnant women and snake-bite victims are also spared a burning. This practice has lead to that most infamous of travellers tales about Varanasi - the dead bodies that can be seen floating in the Ganges as you take your boat cruise. Well, I didn't see any on mine, sorry to disapoint.

At dawn, and again at dusk, the ghats swell with people coming down to bath in the Ganges, an extraordinary sight in itself. You can watch Hindus drink, wash, even brush their teeth with water from the worlds most polluted river. At Varanasi, 30 sewers are continuously discharging into the river. Samples show that the water has 1.5 million faecal coliform bacteria per 100ml of water, when the level for safe bathing is regarded as 500!!! Such statistics keep the tourists out of the river, but as you can see from the pictures, the devout Hindus jump straight in, and hey, there's over 800 million of them, so the water can't be all that bad!!!

My one gripe with Varanasi, and indeed, my gripe with Hindu sights as a whole, is that they have been spoiled by money. I often think back to the Golden Temple at Amritsar, holiest of the Sikh temples - boarding and food for free. Donation optional. Then I think of Pushkar, Omkareshwar, Madurai, and here, Varanasi, and at every one of these places, you get hustled for money by fake priests, guides, etc. The local pilgrims turn the blind eye, and the tourist either pays up, or (as in my case) storms off for some chai and 'cooling down' time.

Varanasi is India at it's most exotic, most annoying, mosr colourful, most fascinating, most dirty, most ancient, and most overwhelming. In short, it is India, all the best and worst parts, thrown together in one chaotic city. It's not to be missed, or even skimmed over. Give this place some time, and you will be rewarded.

My plan now was to head to Delhi, do a day of shopping (e.g. battling with the Kashmiris), and then head up to the Sangla Valley in Himachal Pradesh for about 10 days of mountain retreat. My night in Delhi turned into a nightmare, as, after 5 months in India, I finally succumed to 'Delhi Belly'. I couldn't understand how I got sick - I had even been drinking the local water for the last month with no problems. Whatever happened, it really took it out of me, and the thought of a 10-hour train journey to Shimla, and then a 12-hour bus ride to Sangla made my stomach turn even more. Weak as a baby, I changed my flight, and was home in 3 days. And so ended my trip.

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And so, I did Rome to Delhi in 9 months. Saw a lot of stuff, met a lot of people.

A few notes......

Longest bus journey - Aliabad to Rawalpindi (Pakistan) 22 hours
Longest train journey - Quetta to Rawalpindi (Pakistan) 34 hours
Longest boat trip - Chennai to Port Blair (India) 60 hours

Top 5 scenic journeys (in chronalogical order)

Split to Dubrovnik (Croatia) - the bus ride down the Dalmatian coast is beautiful, the road hugs the cliff, with a sheer drop down the other side.

Mostar to Sarajevo (Bosnia) - we took the train halfway, and the bus the rest, passing thorugh lush green hills and rivers. Unexpected and beautiful.

Mastuj to Gilgit (Pakistan) - 12 hour bus journey, across the Shandur Pass. My first taste of the really high mountains.

Minapin to Karimabad (Pakistan) - We hitched this route, a couple of hours in the back of a small truck, with the most amazing scenery all around us. And a crazy driver to match.

Malvin to Mapusa (India) - Our first journey through tropical southern India, dominated by palm tress and backwaters.

About the people along the way......

In the Balkans, I found the people to be initially unfriendly and dour. Once approached for help, however, they would always do their best (except in Croatia, where a shrug is a common answer). This was especially the case in Albania, where people went out of their way to help us.

With the Turks, it's hard for me to tell, since only Istanbul and Cappadocia (both heavily frequented by tourists) were places with a Turkish majority that I visited.

The Kurds seemed similar to the Pasthus of Pakistan - fiercely hospitable, unable to take no for an answer, they plied us with black tea (on 45 degree days) and cigarettes (we don't smoke). However, this is not a complaint at all, and I'll take it any day over any European country.

The Iranians were certainly the 'coolest' of the people I met - their hospitality was offered in the most casual way, like you'd be chatting, and they'd just mention that their mother was doing luch, and would you like to come? But it never got intense. Iran, I might add, also had the most beautful women.

The Pashtus of Baluchistan and the North-West Frontier Province in Pakistan were, like I said, fiercely hospitable, like it's their duty to be friendly, sometimes unable to take no for an answer, but always meaning well. Again, chai and cigarettes were forced upon me.

The Kalasha seemed shy at first, but they're quite used to tourists now, and seemed a bit cynical to me. Generally a cheerful, friendly bunch though.

The people of Northern Pakistan, in particular the Ismailis, were laid back, smiling, and just wonderful people, who's give you the shirt off their back if you asked.

With the Punjabis of Pakistan, and the northern Indians, their friendliness seemed based on curiousity, letting off a round of questions, and not really taking in the answers. Occassionally they'd surprise you with their knowledge, and occassionallly they'd annoy you with their ignorance. But generally a very nice bunch of people.

The southern Indians are not so different to their northern brethren, just quicker to smile and quicker to joke.

My favourite place? - Pakistan.
Will I return? - to all these places, definately.

Best moments?

Hearing the call to prayer for the first time on the trip in Mostar.

Just being in Istanbul.

Walking into the fish pond area of Urfa in southern Turkey - like stepping into a Bible story.

Crossing the Turkish/Iranian border.

Conversations with all Iranians.

Crossing the Iranian/Pakistan border.

Camping with shepherds in Kalasha summer pastures.

Dancing at an Ismaili wedding in Mastuj.

Trekking in northern Pakistan.

Sufi night and quawaali music in Lahore.

First night at the Golden Temple, Amritsar.

Meeting my girlfriend and mate at the start of January.

Rock-jumping in Hampi.

Dancing in Hampi.

The boat trip to Havelock island in the Andamans.

Sitting on the ghats in Varanasi, watching the madness.

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