Ring of fire

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The human body digests India's rich melee of colour, noise, dust, smell and ceremony, and spits it out the through the bowels. We last two days here before the dreaded Delhi belly sets in, despite pegging it from the eponymous capital at the first possible moment. We are now in Rishikesh, a beautiful valley of pick 'n' mix ashrams and yoga centres, near enough to the source of the Ganges that the river is clean. Not a bad place to convalesce.

Two miracles happen here:
1. We opt to stay in a town devoid of meat or alcohol.
2. Emma gets up for an 8.30 yoga class every morning (conducted by the hotel receptionist-cum-guru). Paul insists he is still to ill to make this, but this could be a rouse.

We have journeyed from Haridwar, a bus ride South of Rishikesh, where we catch our first sight of the Ganges. The scene of hundreds immersing themselves in the river, full scale water fights and general gadding about is a joy to watch.
In the evening we watch a river worship ceremony, where offerings of burning flowers are floated down stream.

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Comments

[Sonj]

Keep it coming!
Hi mate Loving the blog - mention of the Feather Boa brought back sweet, albeit hazy, memories of Honkers! Looking forward to the next installment! Sonj xx

[mummy]

grammar/spelling
Well, mustn't let standards slip. I think you meant legging it from the capital, not pegging it and ruse is spelled like that. xx