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Published: December 6th 2006
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A 7:00 am train from Delhi station was fairly straight forward, except our platform was the only one which had a malfunctionaing electric sign announcing train details, but as it got busier and busier (cliches like seething mass of humanity spring to mind) it was reassuring to have our reservations printed and stuck to the side of the carriage...
The only real disconcerting thing about the train was that it seemed perfectly acceptable to open the door while travelling for fresh air...
We were met at Haridwar by a taxi who took us 50km to our camp by the Ganga, and what a river, what a spot.
Haridwar and rishikesh are the last towns on the plains before the foothills of the Himalaya, the Ganga, sacred to all Hindus carves its way through a steep sided practically jungle filled valley, the scale is immense. Settlements are perched up the steep slopes, and the water is an incredible clear turquoise. It is still dusty especially by the road.
Our camp is an oasis of 'chill' run by a rafting company aquaterra, reccomended to us by a friend Doug from home. It sits on a perfect beech above a
Bridge over the Ganga
Anne and Talitha are in a Ducky below the bridge rapid by a suspension footbridge at Mala Khunti.
The guys at the camp were great, food fantastic (best curries I've ever tasted) and it was clean and 'safe' for the kids, except that the river flowed rapidly into a Grade 3 rapid, so strict instructins were given about where to play,which the kids adhered to perfectly.
Talitha, Anne and I had a short paddle in a Kayak, it was nice to see Doug's name written on the inside of one, which he obviously left there, and Gappu kept an eye on Talitha so she didn't end up down the rapids...
Anne and Talitha had a 'Duckie' which is like a cross between a kayak, open canoe and raft, they paddled about 4Km down river, and of course 'swam' on the first rapid. geting well and truly cleansed by the sacred waters...!
Ronan and I were transported down by truck to meet them, at a ferry point, so I took the ferry (a tin row boat for 20ruppees) across the river and walked back along a beuatiful path above the river. Once I had navigated out of a village with the aid of a small child and
The road builders
Another group of Ronans fans a model of a bridge made of a stick and a couple of stones to show where I was trying to head to, the path was staight forward, and completely solitary. Just what I needed.
On the far side of the bridge there is a small temple, called the 'Swiss' temple, I think a swiss (indian..?) guy helped fund its bulding
We had a couple of walks up through the villages, steep hairpin footpaths, being re built by the villages, probably in a way which would have happened in the Highlands in years gone by. It seemed most of the villagers had turned out to work, and in true Highland style, it seemed that the ladies carried the big stones (on their heads) and the guys put them into place....We had fun and games when we volunteered Talitha to help, and she carried a couple of rocks on her head for them, cushioned by a ring of leaves and twigs. We seemed to cause great hilarity especially amongst the women, who despite being hard labourers were still dresed beautifully in colourful dresses and scarves.
We spent a lot of time relaxing, recovering from the stresses of travel
and ronans illness, playing on the beech and somehow reinacting the whole of 'cars' 'chicken run' and 'robots', the kids favourite films at the moment.
There were monkeys around the camp, locals had heard a Tiger one night up in the hills...! and a cow 'had been taken' from a nearby village....beautiful birds, and a couple of times a huge eagle lazily flapped its way up the valley...
On a poignant note, I was told by another visitor about a human skeleton up river, which I then found when kayaking, laying on a rock, bleached by the sun, and dried skin like leather...it filled my head with all sorts of thoughts of mortality and life. Who knows his or her story. The german visitor with me took a picture of it, but I decided some things don't need photographing....
The Journey back to Delhi involved another Taxi ride to the train station, which was fairly mad, dodging motorbikes, rickshaws, cows, pedestrians and on coming trucks. We arrived very early at Hardiwar, so watched the world go by, cows, beggars, a family of pigs, holy men, families with ( I think) bottles of Ganga water to take home.
Better than Scotrail
The trains run on time.. The usual comings and goings of a train station, just dirtier and dustier. Talitha and I ventured into the town to buy some supplies for the train (mad trying to cross the road with millions of motorbikes and autorickshaws) The shop keeper let Talitha behind the counter to choose chocolate....Even the mundane is adventurous to us newcomers to this busy busy country.
A highlight of the station at Haridwar were the monkeys, climbing around and sitting on the illuminated clock...
Delhi station at 11pm was just mad, as the train arrived, porters dressed in red all swarmed on to try and carry your bags for a few ruppees, (2 havingan altication over one bag above me...) then as you alight you ge mobbed by taxi drivers trying to get business. We cose one guy and followed him out through the human mayhem into vehicular mayhem. After a spot of rather fine bartering by Anne "500 ruppees, well we will just get out then" "OK OK 400"
300 was agreed on (the fair going rate we think...)and it was out into the streets, what seemed like dozens of taxis all tring to get through a tiny gap at once,
felt a bit like a grain of sand in an egg timer...but eventually after a trully crazy ride, we arrived safetl y at our friends appartment, tired, dusty and sweaty to a cup of tea and a dram with Ian and Tilly.. Ronan is back to himself, and after a break we will plan the next adventure....
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Fran and Paul
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WOW!
What a place! Paul and Fran