Saturday 2 August 2008

Varanasi & Agra

Varanasi is a bid dirty city. Well thats my first impression anyhow. The traffic on the way in is predictably horrible with everything on wheels or legs jostling for any bit of free space on the road. I'd been told about Hotel Buddha by the spanish overlander I'd met at the border so after way too much time pissing about, I finally found it with the aid of about 10 coppers, none of whom had a clue what I was asking. When I finally found it, I found the staff to be very helpful and as it turned out, their restaurant served up a pretty good curry though as they didn't have a licence, any beer I got needed to be covered in newspaper and hidden under the table.

The main thing to see in Varanasi is the Ganges river, the most polluted stretch of dirty brown water in the whole world by the sounds of things with something like 26 sewers discharging into it on a daily basis. I headed down there the following morning, followed most of the way by a very persistant rickshaw driver who couldn't comprehend that after riding for the last few days, I actually fancied walking somewhere. The area around the river consists of a medievil-style narrow streets where everthing is carried out in the smallest of spaces. It made me think of what Edinburghs High Street area might have been like about 500 years ago. Everything can be bought or repaired here it seems. A lot of Hindu's were queueing up to bathe in the dirty river and they even seemed quite excited about the prospect. I just hope no one had any open cuts....

As per normal, a young guy (who expressly said he was not a guide) started giving me a 'free' guided tour of the burning site. You can watch the funerals but not take pictures unlike at Kathmandu. Apparently Hundu's all want to be brought here when they die, some actually taking up residency in the nearby hospice in anticipation of the 'big day'. The kid showing me around said he worked at the hospice and I ended up giving an old lady who worked there a donation for 'fire wood' as some of the families can't afford the wood. I can't remember the name of the wood but its a good slow burner. The ritual is quite similar to that at Kathmandu but this time, I saw the bodies wrapped in colourful sheets being brought down to the river and the body was given a nice final 'drink' from the river with a family member putting handfulls of the foul liquid onto the deceased's mouth (I couldn't help thinking that they were probably pretty glad they were dead at this point...) After that, the fire was built and away they go. Its very interesting to watch though and we even went over to where the fires were buring where the heat was very intense. There are about 5 special types of deaths that don't require burning, just being weighted down with rocks and then getting chucked in to the river. These included Holy men, pregnant women, babies and those who dies from Cobra bites! The reason being that they've already reached 'Nirvana' apparently. And predictably, after my 'non-tour', my new friend asked for some cash or to come and look at the shirt factory where he actually worked but I declined both offers. I'd thought about staying an extra day but having got the river business out the way in the morning, I just got on with some bike maintenance in the afternoon and changed the oil and filter and headed off towards Agra the next day.

The road to Agra actually improved becoming a proper 4 lane highway with a central reservation. Only this being India, it didn't stop people driving down what we at home would call the 'overtaking lane' towards you in trucks, busses, motorcycles, bicycles, cows, goats etc despite there being a perfectly good set of lanes on the other side of the barrier which go in the direction they want to go. In the UK, you could have got a whole season of 'Police, Camera, Action' out of this lot. Its frankly bloody dangerous and you really can't allow yourself to relax into the ride whatsoever. Especially annoying are the people who push bicycles out onto the road without actually looking for any oncoming traffic, resulting in some fairly severe braking ("nah, he's not going to wander out in front of me is he, oh yes he is"- screech...!) followed by the 'horn and middle finger' combo which I have now perfected although usually they don't even turn round. On most roads, 600kms is a long day but in India, its a really bloody long and tiring day. How I made it in one piece to Agra I don't know but somehow I did.

As I'd been riding for 11 hours, it was dark by the time I got to Agra. It also didn't help that I wasn't exactly sure where I was going but I had taken the precaution of looking at someone elses guide book and noting that the cheap hotels were located just to the south of the Taj Mahal and luckily there were actually signs for the Taj. The area I ended up in also turned out to be under a power cut so while the streets were pitch black (bicycles with no reflectors, people, animals and lovely deep potholes abound...), every vehicle felt the need to drive with full beam on so I was practicaly blinded too. Getting to about 200m from the area where I belived the hotels to be, the bike decided to cut out as it was overheating. This has happened before and I knew I'd need to wait a few minutes before I would start again, and this gave the numerous touts the time to congregate around me in a very close circle and start asking me dumb questions and offering to take me to the shite hotel of their choice. Luckily the bike started quick enough before I started punching a few of them and then got myself into a hotel with off street parking.

Despite being totally knackered from the previous days ride, I got myself over to the Taj Mahal by 6am in theory to catch the sunrise but of course, there was nothing of the sort and it was a typically overcast day resulting in flat light. Despite this, I did enjoy doing my 'Diana with Beard pose for the camera in front of the Taj'. I spent probably around 1 1/2 hours walking around the site which was pretty incredible. Seeing as the Taj is one of the worlds greatest monuments to love, it would have perhaps been nicer to have shared this with a special someone, but despite the guards confiscating my tripod at the gates, I still managed to take some reasonable photos of myself...



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