birthday girl!

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thankyou to all the family for my birthday cards and emails, my phone charger is broken so can't use my phone any more in case anyone text.

My yoga lessons in Varanasi were a wonderful introduction to basic assanas (yogic positions), meditation and pranayam (breathing technique). They were one to one sessions with an Indian man in his mid 50's at his family home in the crowded alley ways of the old city. Up a steep flight of stairs was an open courtyard with rooms running off all around, and in one of these i had my lessons. It was wonderful working individually with someone who could concentrate entirely on what i was doing and correct me when i went wrong. After my first lesson he asked if i would like to have lunch with him and his family and i joined him with his wife and daughter for some of the best indian food i have had so far, including an amazing dish of papaya and curd which was heavenly. Unfortunately Stoppard was still feeling poorly and with the heat it was impossible to venture outside between 11 and 3. In the evenings we would wander along the ghats, go for dinner and continue our constant quest for anything cold to quench the constant thirst which you have here.

Badly needing to escape the heat we have headed north. The train from Varanasi was to take 24 hours to reach Haridwar and there is nothing for it but to accept your fate and get settled for the long haul. We left at 8 in the morning and the first half of the day passed quickly; we were fed on indian sweets by the family sharing our compartment while Stoppard entertained their young son. In the evening it was noticably cooler and we had high hopes for the morning. Waking at 6 the surrounding countryside showed how far we had travelled from the burnt and starch plains around varanasi. The fields were full of greenary and bannana trees, the air felt cooler and cleaner and for the first time in a week i wasn't covered in sweat and desperate for water. Finally we had reached cooler climates.

Off the train at Haridwar and straight to a cafe for some much needed breakfast we took in this new place. Haridwar is a small town set along the banks of the ganga and the holiest of places for pilgrims to visit; Indians flock here from all over the country with their families to bathe in the holy waters, there are dharamsalas and bhawans (places where hindu pilgrims can stay during their visit), large impressive buildings with large courtyards everywhere and shop after shop selling all possible aids for whorshiping the mother ganga, plus a lot of plastic sparkly crap. Most travellers arrive here only to go straight on to rishikesh and don't stop here. The entire time we were in Haridwar we saw maybe only 3 or 4 other tourists; this made the place seem much more real than varanasi which caters on a large scale for the tourists. The main bazaare is centered around two main streets with swarms of happy pilgrims strolling down to the main ghat to bathe. The shops either side sell row upon row of bangles, metal pots for collecting the rivers water, prayer beads, hair clips, and for some strange reason wooden salad spoons in stange abundance.

The main ghat is about 150 meters long with two stairways that lead onto a walkway opposite so that people reach the water from two sides and this area forms a rectangular enclosure. Around here are many temples all dedicated to Shiva. The ghats continue to run along the opposite side to the town facing it forming a long promenade which can be reached by two bridges that take you across the water. Walking along here i passed row upon row of sadhus, families stretched out under banyan trees, priests helping with individual pujas and children jumping and playing in the river. The river runs so quickly through this part that there are chains all along the ghats for people to hold onto so that they don't get sweapt along by the current while bathing; it is not unusual for there to be several incidences of drowning along this stretch of water. There is a temple set on top of one of the hills that surround Haridwar and we walked to the base of the hill where a cable car bears you shakily up the hill. This was a most peculiar place and felt like the indian version of a theme park in england. There was a cafetiera selling ice creams, beverages and snacks, shops selling hindu devotional dvds and cds and leading up to the temple itself (which was quite dissapointing, only a small shrine surrounded by wire mesh to keep the monkies out) were metal barriers - to control the crowds - much like you would get outside a ride at alton towers. The views, although cloudy, showed us the whole of Haridwar stretched out beneath us and the hills in the distance.

In the evening after strolling around the bazaare, particularly confused by the ugly plastic dolls and musical instruments that were for sale, we meandered down to the main ghat for the evening puja. I was expecting it to be busy but nothing prepared me for the hundreds strong crowd that swelled the bathing area. We found a spare patch of step to perch on and simply watched. It had the feel of a seaside holiday resort on the south coast of England, everyone was happily bobbing about in the water, chatting with friends and family and throwing flowers all over the place and generally thoroughly enjoying themselves. Around sunset the puja began; although at varanasi it feelsl like a bit of a performance and show piece this felt much more intimate and special. As there are so many people here who all want to take part, men uniformed in blue move amongst the crowds taking it section by section and performing rituals to whorship the river. We were sat in the midst of one of these groups and as the man in blue spoke the pilgrims around us all raised their arms amid cries of hindi, from a distance it must have looked like a mexican wave wa making its way amongst the crowds. From where we were it was not possible to see the main puja taking place to the right of us and found a new pitch ontop of a staircase over looking the ghat. This ceremony was unlike the one at varanasi and much shorter. It was at this point that things got a bit surreal, in a good way. First a group of three very polite and respectful young men came to talk to us but had to leave, as one of them reminded the others urgently, as mum and dad were waiting for them. Next a young boy came up and asked Matthew if he could have our autographs, much embarassed and confused we agreed. Several more people came up to us for photographs and we also spotted several people trying to take more sureptious photography of us. After walking back through the crowds along the main steet, amid all the happy and freshly bathed holiday makers, to find something to eat we were approached over and over again by people who would either want to shake our hands and then run off giggling or stop for a quick chat. Even more bizarre were the amount of people that kept coming up to us to tell Matthew what a handsome boy he was;

"yes, very handsome"

"you look very nice sir, very smart" ect ect ect

we were beginning to wonder wether we should ever leave this place where we appeared to be going down so well.

After dinner as we walked home just off our street there was a wedding party in full swing in the street. We followed the rest of the curious Indians to watch the band and wait for the groom to emerge from the house and be transported to the wedding ceremony. We were stood right among the wedding crowd by the chariot that was to bear the groom away and saw his terrified and confused face as he came out. We followedm down the street as the procession inched its way noicily onwards. Loud bangra music was being played by the band and several men tried to persuade Matthew to jump in with the ladies who were dancing their socks off and join in. We declined. Weddings are such a celebration here and so joyful and flamboyant, although the grooms never look as if they are having much fun and the bride for the most part is shut up at home with the women of the family, but the guests have a jolly good time.

Stopping for water, such a frequent activity in this heat, we were approached by a family who cornered Matthew and myself for a chat. Thoroughly exhausted by this time, and beginning to feel like a tourist attraction ourselves, we declined an offer to come "meet my almighty" (not sure whether they were planning on doing us in or just take us down for a spiritual walk by the ganges) after they had taken the obligitory photo of "the family on holiday with the strange white europeans that we met" we escaped into our hotel.

The waterway that Haridwar lies next to is actually a canal which branches off the main river. At the point where the canal and the river part is an enormous statue of Shiva, Indias answer to the Jesus at Rio, guarding the entrance to the canal. The next day, my birthday, walking towards the front of this for a better view two young indian men began talking to us. Matthews has been learning hindi and every one he speaks to is always so impressed when he can converse in their language they often get a bit carried away and start babbling away in fast and fluent hindi as we both stand their smiling politely but not understanding a word. Although neither of the men spoke english a basic understanding and conversation was carried out thanks to Matthews hindi and they walked down with us to the statue. After swapping cigarettes and being told that Shiva was "no. one boy", Matthew was embraced as a brother and had thrust upon him a necklace that one of the guys removed from his own neck and insisted Matthew accept as a gift. I kept being addressed as "Victoria madam" followed by a string of hindi we had no idea about and could only laugh and apologise. We had obviously made quite an impression as when we told them we were moving on to Rishikesh they said we should all go together, Matthew thinking fast explained that we were on our honeymoon and were going alone, so as not to cause offence. This seemed to do the trick. Sadly on the walk back the mention of money came up and the request was mainly directed at me, although the price did drop from 5000Rps to 200Rps after i repeatedly said i didn't understand what it was they wanted. We are still not sure whether there was a misunderstanding somewhere along the way and both hope that it wasn't that they were asking for money.

It makes you so frustrated when everything has a price, even at the most holiest of sights people come and palce tilak marks on your forehead but then demand money; a seemingly normal and pleasant conversation can be ended by a request for rupees from your new found friend or a short explanation of the puja you are watching from a priest will be followed by an outstretched palm.

The bus stand in Haridwar, today we were moving onwards to Rishikesh as Haridwar, although amazing and one of my favourite places so far, really can be seen in one and a half days, was the usual crowded mess of people, buses and chai wallahs. After mooching around for a while and asking several disgruntled bus drivers where on earth i could find a bus that would take us to Rishikesh i got a curt nod from someone indicating the usual decrepid veichle that would take us to our destination. The journey was only 40 minutes but the change in the surroundings was marked. Now, rising up on either side, were wooded leafy hills with the ganges, extremely wide and fast flowing, even more so than at haridwar, nestled at the bottom. Along the east and west banks are the main areas that form Rishikesh; Swarg Ashram in the south, where all the askrams are situated and pilgrims stay for intensive religious or yoga stays, High bank, set up on the west north side half way up the hill, really only a small spattering of hotels and restaurants for the tourists, and then Laxman Jhula on the east north side where there are hotels, some ashrams, restaurants, shops selling all your hearts desires, yoga centres and temples. We found a gem of a hotel set right on the banks of the ganga run by a man who so far we are sure has not moved from the chair we found him sitting in when we arrived; he lazily pointed downstairs when we inquired about a room, hasnt asked us to pay for or sign a thing and we can order all the chai we like and just pay at the end of our stay, it is surely the most lazily relaxed place i have stayed so far. It is also wonderfully cheap at 200rps with ceiling fan and ensuite and a window that looks out directly onto the river so that it is the first thing one sees in the morning.

I was determined to go paddling in the Ganga on my birthday and we went down to the shore for a quick dip before dinner. along the river are some wonderful beaches, proper sand that slopes down to the waters edge where you can sit and gaze about at the beautiful sights around you, it really is quite idylic here and i can understand why people stay here for months at a time, although i think the level of relaxation would eventually start to turn your brain to mush unless you could find some kind of gainful employment during the days. There are several restaurants which are really only aimed at the tourists here but provide really good food and are all modeled on the same set up. Usually they are set down by the river or else raised up on roofs which look down upon the water, looking a little like tiki huts as they are made of bamboo and the seating is all on large squishy cushions on the floor set about low tables, ethnic tape number 2 is playing (on repeat) which slowly acts to lull you to sleep and most sell sublime fresh juices, strawberry and water melon being the best, made with gallons of fresh fruit and mineral water ice cubes; i'm sure i could survive on these alone. The place we chose on my birthday night met all the above criteria and is run by a very friendly guy who let us leave our bags there earlier in the day while we scouted around for a hotel. Had the most wonderful meal of veg jalfrezi (the restaurants lie at home now i know what a real jalfrezi is and i tell thee it is nothing like we are eating in birmingham) and kidney bean masala, wonderful! altogether a most enjoyable birthday, if only all birthdays could be celebrated thus.

Th next day before breakfast we went down to the nearest beach for a proper swim in the ganga, something i have been dying to do since i came to india. The water here is as clean as it is ever going to get as we are so close to the source here. Our last day in Varanasi we treated ourselves and went to a starred hotel to use their pool. As neither of us had anything to swim in we searched the streets for something appropriate, an impossible task. it seems the indians do not do swimming as we do in England. When they bathe in the ganga the men just strip to their underpants and the women have to go in fully clothed. My requets for a swim suit ilicited some interesting responses from the local shop owners including one who tried to sell me a rubber ring to wear and another who tried to convince me to buy a particularly cheap and nasty satin nighty. Eventually had to opt for some cotton pants and decided that my plain black bra would have to pass as a bikini top. the swimming was wonderful and it was such a relief to be able to cool down in an instant as soon as one became too hot and we spent a happy day bobbing about in the water and feeling like the odd ones out amongst the other paying guests at the hotel.

Changed into my "swimming shorts" but wearing a t-shirt instead, going for a dip here in my bra would have been extremely offensive to the indians bathing in the water, i strode into the water - which was freezing! Making sure we both kept our heads above the water, the water looks clean but neither of us fancied risking it, we went for a full swim in the ganges...another of those moments you want to remember forever.

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