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To be honest leaving Mussourie was a challenge. Arsenal had lost the night before, Man U had beaten Shambles-pool and I had consumed too many beverages. My head hurt and my soccer world had come crashing down.
I would miss the incredible people at Kalsang Friends Corner (and their Momo's), and the celebrations of Holi left me speechless.. just walking around town covered in paint and laughing and greeting everyone who passed by... sitting in the shade and watching the Indians dancing themselves into delirium... lying in my huge bed watching movies and football as the town slept. However, 5 nights was enough. There were new adventures elsewhere.
I walked the 30 meters to the bus stand with a fresh sun warming me slightly. The bus left within 5 minutes and started making its way down the hairpin bends into the further valleys. On a blind corner a Tata Sumo came tearing around in the middle of the road which left precious little space for the bus driver and he ploughed straight into a cliff face. The side of the bus was destroyed.....torn up from front to back. The bus was basically stuck IN the cliff face (of course
I was seated on the side that hit the cliff).. we had to attempt numerous combinations of reversing and steering until finally the bus came loose and we could continue our scarred journey down the hill. Needless to say the impact did little to help my banging headache.
I had an afternoon to kill in Dehra Dun which ended up being a hunt for a place to develop my slide film, waiting for 2 hours for them to finish it, trying to upload the images at an internet cafe, ate two disappointing meals, boarded my night train and ended up in a compartment with 2 men from Yemen who were intent on talking my ear off the whole night... they were friendly but I got sick of being asked 1000 times how many wives I had.. supposedly one of them had 5 and over 20 kids. Horny bastards.
I slept relatively well and woke up with that excitement you get when you arrive somewhere completely new and yet with absolutely no preparation or planning. I mananged to end up at the "correct" guest house (according to the LP) by just jumping on a cycle rickshaw and saying HOTEL.
I met some friendly Japanese tourists and we headed off to see the Golden Temple.
Similar to the experience I had at seeing Angkor for the first time, but less feverous. A glistening bejeweled temple surrounded by the purity of white marble on all sides of the huge pool. Hordes of worshippers in varying states of undress bathing in the waters and bowing towards the centrepiece of their faith. I kept a distance and just observed the goings on and documented a few moments with my camera. By chance I stumbled into the feeding rooms and sat on the floor side by side with hundreds of people receiving dhal and chapatti's for free in the worlds largest feeding program. The Sikh's have learn't about charity and hospitality.
I spent a few more moments walking around the temple, lining up for a glimpse into the actual temple in the middle of the pool... an ornate place of worship reminiscent of the interior of the Taj, yet more intricate and darker. A group of musicians played music that only added more to the mysterious atmosphere trapped in those golden interiors and marble clad floors. It was hypnotic, but in a
pleasurable, soothing manner.
Upon exiting the temple the sunlight felt harsh and brutal. I walked down the long pathway against the flow of followers on their way in, pushed aside by temple workers carrying vast boxes full of donations away to safety. I took some photographs at the far end. Watched some foreigners wrapped up in a spiritual revery. Got asked 18,239 times what is your native place. Wondered for a second if my stomach would handle the dhal and chappati's. Untied my free bandana from my head and returned through the foot-washing-pools to re-attach my sandals to my feet.
Back at the Guest House I crashed for a couple of hours, only woken once in a while by the awful sound of screaming babies. With my wits about me once again I headed back to the Golden Temple to catch a ride to the Wagah Border. Ever since watching Michael Palin witnessing the border "circus" in one of his travel documentaries it had been a dream of mine to one day sit there and take it all in first hand. Today was my day. I ended up bumping into a couple of backpackers from the Uk and
Us. We shared a van and headed off to the border, time passing quickly answering the usual first time questions.
In what can only be explained as Indian confusion we were told by 3 different guards to sit in an area MILES away from the actual ceremony.. and on our way there I just decided to pretend to another guard that we were supposed to be at the front. Stopping him mid-stride I said " We need VIP viewing gallery". He immediately signalled to two other guards to lift a rope and allowed us to walk all the way to the front and sit within a stones throw of the gates. What commenced then was a mixture of hostility, comedy, bravado, patriotism, entertainment, dancing, shouting... an absolute carnival.. worth every moment to see. Each sides trying to out-shout each other.. India shouting "Vande Mataram" and the Pakistani's shouting " Allah"..... spontaneous flag waving, squeals of ecstasy, children dancing in the road, guards with massive moustache's whistling frantically at the repeat offenders who kept standing up and blocking the view of those behind... a euphoric assembly.
Walking back along the road with a good few thousand people ambling along
the reality of the whole spectacle sunk in. Today had been a fantastic day of impressions and experiences. I would need tomorrow to be a dead day just to sit and comprehend it all and attempt to explain it in meager detail.
Today is that dead day. After the border run I ended up heading to eat with the Brit and talk football all night. SUPER FUN! We then headed to a typical dodgy Indian bar for a couple before walking home followed by barking dogs and lunatics.. back to the guest house for a final drink and some music.
Today I woke up to a prolonged train horn heard from miles away and still resonating as it had left its friction clinging to the rails. I tried unsuccessfully to develop slide film. Walked in the baking heat. Wondered where to go tomorrow. Did some internet. Got flicked off by a guy on a motorbike. Sat at the guest house and wrote this. The rest of the day will probably be spent listening to music, reading, since Amritsar is a complete shit-hole apart from the Temple... then at night I am going back to see the temple floodlit
by stars... catch the England-France football match and probably still be deciding where to head when check-out rolls around tomorrow at midday.
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