Kathmandu,Varanasi then Dharamnsala at last!

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My last night in Kathmandu.

I decided that for my last night in Kathmandu that I would take Raju, his wife and his two lovely children to dinner. It was something simple as I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable. Raju’s mother was visiting from the village so she came too. To Get to Kathmandu she has to walk three hours up hill and then get a bus for 1 hour. I have been asked to visit them next time I am in Nepal, but am I up to it? Raju said that his wife and mother had never been to a restaurant before. We ordered drinks and then they took half the menus away and I said to leave them. Then Pete whispered to me that Mum and grandmother wouldn’t be able to read anyway. There are so many things we take for granted.
We had a lovely dinner and I gave each of the children a small present, which they loved. I will miss them, they are such lovely, gentle and genuine people.


The Bus Trip from Hell!I knew it wouldn’t be easy but!!!

Up and out of the hotel in Kathmandu at 6.30a.m. and a taxi to where the micro buses leave to the border. We waited over an hour until we found one that would take us to Sanauli. Most of them would only take us so far and would then “sell us on” to another bus. We didn’t want that. By this time it was really hot and there is no such thing as air-con in cars in this country. Then we had to sit in the hot micro until the bus was full and unfortunately we had as rather large man in the row with us so it was quite squeezy. Not the best start to the 6 hour leg of the journey to the Nepali/Indian border. Also the place where we stopped to eat did not appeal to me, I have had enough dhal baht to last a life time so bought a few bananas and a packet of chips. Little did I know that that was all that I would have until 2p.m. the next day!

It was a hot uneventful journey, but about ¾ way through things started to get a bit exciting or should I say scary? Our driver started nodding off! The road is narrow twisting and steep and I could see our young driver doing long blinks in the wing mirror. I was ready to give him a huge poke in the ribs, but when I told Peter he had a word with him. He still looked dreadful and was leaning on the door so he did get the poke and a loud “wake up”! Not a relaxing part of the journey. Obviously we made it in one piece.

For the last half hour the sun was streaming in my side of the vehicle and I thought I was going to pass out. It was so hot. I got a rickshaw from the bus to the Nepali immigration office and again to the Indian side. Then on to the very dilapidated looking bus for Varanasi. At this point I decided anywhere was better than where I was. The first time I have felt this way since the beginning of my trip.
But once the bus was on the move I started to cool down. It was full to bursting, but at least I had a window seat so got any bit of coolish air going.

Looking out of the window was like watching an Indian movie. It was wonderful, there was so much to see and I was riveted and soon forgot about my hour of “beam me up Scotty”!

The villages we passed through gave small glimpses inside people’s lives. They were washing at water pumps in the street, tiny children being mother to tiny babies, groups of men drinking chai and laughing together, fields being attended by women in the brightest saris’, about six people on treadle sewing machines working in the dark with only a candle to see by and families playing on the flat roofs together. I felt a bit like a voyeur. The thing what impressed me was that for the most part they seemed so happy.

Once it got dark, strangely it seemed also to get hotter. There was nothing to see and the road deteriorated. I felt that every bone in my body was being disconnected and moved to some other place. What would I look like when I stood up? Would I be able to?

Naturally this made sleep impossible. We eventually pulled into a bus park for a loo and drink stop and the fresh pomegranate juice was delicious, but oh, the heat and did we really need to stay for 45minutes? I felt another “beam me up Scotty” moment coming on. I had no idea that things would get worse.

At about 10.30p.m. we stopped at a place for dinner and once again the choice was dhal baht or dhal baht. The place looked worse than the first one, so no food for me. They didn’t even have drinks, just water from the pump. Yeah, sure! Still worse.....

We were about to leave when we heard the dreaded word - JAM.
This means traffic jam and the reason for this was that all roads were closed around the area because somebody had been shot dead and the village would not allow the roads open until the police caught the culprit. It’s amazing the power that villagers hold over the police both in India and in Nepal. So we waited for 3 hours in the sultry heat with nothing to eat and drink. It was sit on the concrete median strip or swelter in the bus. I did a bit of each. At 1.30a.m. the all clear came through and at 5a.m. we arrived in Varanasi. A once in a life time experience and once is the only time I want to do it. NEVER AGAIN.

There was one good outcome to our arriving later into Varanasi and that was that just as we arrived at the Ghats, the solar eclipse was taking place. An amazing experience. As you can see from the photos, there were thousands of people and as it got dark, the wind picked up, birds flew around as if unsure of what to do and chanting and cheers went up from the hoards of people at the ghats. What a welcome.

So now I am settled in Varanasi with Kashi and his family while Pete and Debu go out to their house to get it ready. They have been in Nepal for a while so dust, sand and maybe a few creatures will have taken over. That gives me two days to wander around here. I have to admit that although the ghats and the Ganga are impressive, there are far too many crowds, cows (including a dead one that I had to step over, no mean feat, they are huge), flies and cow pats for me. Kashi’s house is quite something though with its own Hindu temple a view of the Ganga and little Rani his two year old daughter is gorgeous although very cheeky!

It’s very hot and I am looking forward to going out to Pete and Debu’s house which I believe is the opposite of Varanasi - sounds a bit more like me. Peace and nature, ahhhhh!


At Peter and Debu’s house in Ramana Village.

I actually arrived in Ramana a day earlier than anticipated which suited me well. Varanasi is not really my kind place. Kashi and I left Varanasi on a cycle rickshaw loaded up with provisions. The trip took about 50 minuted and was for the most part a terrible road. The poor rickshaw driver, Pintu must have muscles like Arnold Swartzenager (is that how you spell it?) as he only needed a 5 minute break along the way. Before we got to the house we had to leave the rickshaw and walk for about 15 minutes. It was a lovely walk between field of vegetables but still really hot. Then I thought of the rickshaw driver and didn’t complain.

At the house at last and there was Pete sitting under the water pump having a good wash, (See the photo!) we were a bit early. It was a relief to be there, such a peaceful place and only 5 minutes walk to the Ganga.

So now I am settled in to doing very little. The monsoon is late in coming and the weather is far too oppressive to do anything much apart from sleep, look at the many different birds, sleep, spot Niligy dear, eat, play cards, sleep and wait for the rains. Soon - please!!!! My body is a bit worried that the monsoon will not come and has decided to retain water. My legs are beginning to look like boab trees and my feet are so plump and tight that I am worried that my toes will shoot off like little pink missiles. But in spite of all this I am still having a wonderful time.

(By the way, don’t tell anyone, but I am spending my time in a lungi -a man’s sarong or my pyjamas. Haven’t looked at myself in a mirror since I arrived, definitely haven’t thought about makeup and don’t care a fig! Liberating.)



On the Road Again or The Train Trip from Hell!

I have had a wonderful few days with Pete and Debu and they were great hosts, but alas time to go as I still have a lot to do before leaving India in September.

Pete decided that we would go into Varanasi on his motorbike (yeah, I love motorbikes!!!!!!!!!!!) but he was good and took things easy. In fact I really did enjoy it.

We picked up my big suitcase which Kashi had been looking after and headed off to the train station. All was going well. We found the train and Pete made sure that I was ensconced in the right seat before leaving. The train appeared full but there were quite a few women for a change so I didn’t mind. The train left a little late, about 2.45p.m. so I was looking forward to something to eat and especially to drink as the air-con doesn’t work if the train isn’t moving. After about 2 hours there was still no sign of any food or drink so I asked someone who spoke a little English and was told no food on this train. I was going to die of thirst! Then the train stopped in the middle of nowhere for an hour and a half and of course, no air-con. We eventually reached a station and thank goodness people came on selling drinks and chips. Better than nothing. After another hour or so all the other passengers started getting their tiffins out and the smell of delicious food permeated the train. Oh well, at least I had a few squashed bananas and a small packet of jam and cream biscuits that Pete had given me. But the train still kept stopping for long periods of time and it was obvious that we were going to be way behind schedule.

Eventually it was time to put the bunks down and sleep and I must say that I was really comfortable and slept well being rocked to sleep by the motion of the train.

In the morning after a loo visit, yes I am even getting used to terrible Indian train toilets, I had my now extra squashy banana and waited for my station. Only problem was, nothing was written in English. So I showed a gut my ticket and he said we were running about 3 hours late but he was getting off there also and it was the end of the line. Well, I couldn’t miss it then. All along though, I had this nagging feeling that that wasn’t the train station that I had read in my Lonely Planet, but who am I to argue with an Indian travel agent and a friend of Pete’s too. And my Lonely Planet was packed in a box in Haridwar so I couldn’t check. Stop being paranoid Beverley and enjoy the trip.

After much more stopping and starting we eventually got into Jammu station about 8 hours late. For the first time no one helped me off the train with my big orange suitcase and......there were no porters! I couldn’t believe it. It looked like half of Delhi was on the platform. Some fighting to get on the train that they had been waiting for for 8 hours, others just lying about the station in the way and others selling stuff. I realised that I was being pushed backward so stood my ground and pushed. I ran over hands and feet, small children and food and I didn’t care. I was a salmon swimming towards my spawning ground and no Indian was going to stop me! The crowd thinned out and I realized that I was at the end of the platform. But where is the exit? I asked someone and they pointed me back in the direction that I had just fought a war to get through. Silly me, how had I missed the stairs, the ones with the big “NO EXIT” sign and two big policemen with gun defending it. Yes, I could go up they said. But how? I had my backpack with my laptop and overnight stuff in it, my bag with passport, wallet etc, and the big orange suitcase. Hold onto the rail, step, pull, thump, hold onto the rail, step, pull, thump, hold onto the rail, step, pull, thump, stand my ground as three screaming family fly towards me, hold onto the rail, step, pull, thump, all in about 35c and with people looking at me as though I had just materialised from Mars. Oh some choice words were going through my head. But Amazon woman did it and found a tourist booth and asked about a bus to Dharamsala.

None at this time I was told, the last one left about 4 hours ago. “You should have got off the train about 2 hours ago and buses run straight from the station and it’s a much shorter journey.” Aaaaargh! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. Don’t cry Beverley, said a tiny voice in my head. So I took a deep breath and booked a cheap room in a tourist hotel but decided to see the room first. Good idea that. The first one I saw, the cheapie, I didn’t even set foot inside. Next grade up please. This one was just as depressing and the bathroom was beyond words, but had a balcony. Next - smelly, revolting bathroom again, but has AC. Next - now I am at the top, deluxe level. What the heck, I have had a difficult day and need the rest. The room is big but basic, bathroom is a little better, there is a TV and tiles, no carpet. I’ll take it.

Once I have paid the extra, I unpack a few things and throw back the sheet - a scorpion is between the sheets. I run down to reception like a mad woman and drag the guy back to my room. The little horror has disappeared. We pull the room apart, strip beds, turn over mattresses, nothing apart from a few tiny cockroaches and I am used to them by now. In the end there is nothing for me to do but sleep in my thin sleeping back insert in the hope that I won’t get bitten in the night. Just as I am dozing off I hear a little scratching noise and yes, I have another room made, a little mouse. I decide to try and live with this but when sometime later I hear a noise and open my eyes, there staring at me from my bedside table is Squeaky, about 4 inches away from my face. Yes I scream and yell and push the bell for the reception guy, but no one comes. I am alone with my roommates. I have to live with it or rather sleep with it and somehow I do, although not very well. So here I am this morning, feeling none to refreshed about to say farewell to my new found friends and hit the road for Dharamsala. I considered a bus to Kashmir as Srinigar is only 295 km away but I don’t have the strength and also it’s not terribly romantic being on a beautiful houseboat on the lake alone, but would I be?

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Comments

[Ritesh]

Hi I read some of your blogs....its really interesting and you are doing a very good job.......i am from dharamshala and waiting for your blogs about my city.......