Namaste All!
The last five days have been a true roller coaster ride, so sit back with your cup of coffee and enjoy our latest installment.
We last left you taking in the gracious hospitality at the Master Gust House in the Indian capital. The owner Avnish, his children, and wonderful staff helped us recover from several tiring days in Agra and Rajasthan. There are only five rooms here while Avnish and his family live downstairs, so it's a very intimate stay. We met some wonderful people each day as we sipped coffee or ate a meal in the communal kitchen, which sometimes doubled as a makeshift bedroom.
Since we had such trouble getting in from Agra, we really only had two days to see the city. Obviously this is not enough time for such a big place. It rained hard (first of our trip) both days to boot, at least in the mornings until about 1pm. This limited what we could do. Apparently Avnish gives "Hidden Delhi" tours of the old city like no other, and he couldn't do it due to the rain and mud. He did bring us to the daily wholesale flower market, however, and this was great. After seeing it we assume one exists in every city (where else do the bodegas on every corner in NYC get all those fresh flowers daily?), but it was a first for us. We enjoyed the atmosphere at 7am between the amazing aromas, colors, and haggling.
Other than that we spent a day walking around New Delhi and Old Delhi, respectively. New Delhi consists of all the old Raj (British controlled) architecture and now the power base of the country. There are some impressive buildings in the area that look in many ways like the capital of a powerful western nation. It is clean, quiet, and green. The Commonwealth Games were here just this past summer, so we're not sure if this has something to do with the sanity, but it was nice to walk around. Old Delhi is just that; old. It is a maze of streets where you could easily lose yourself for an afternoon. We did just that and stumbled upon Karim's, an Old Delhi restaurant spanning 4 generations. We gorged. Besides gawking at the largest mosque in Asia, we also experienced our first Sikh temple. We both enjoyed this very much. There is a lot of energy here. Sikhs are highly devout but also known for their generosity. After removing our shoes and washing our hands and feet, we had our heads wrapped as we entered the temple. The place was consistently packed with devotees as they formed almost an assembly line to give thanks. We sat and took it all in for a while. We're aware of the whole Indira Gandhi thing, but being in that temple it didn't seem like these people would ever be capable of violence. They are so giving they have a huge kitchen attached where anyone can come and get a meal for free, even us.
We also got stuck in the most ludicrous traffic jam on the way to the train station. The vehicles surrounding us would make you laugh. They ranged from buses to just a guy walking with his mobile produce stand in one of 12 illegal lanes that often form at red lights. After making our train safely, we proceeded at a snail's pace to Varanasi. Our 12 hour ride turned into a 21 hour journey.
Varanasi is one of our favorite places so far. Sandwiched in between two long overnight train dates, we didn't expect to relax as much as we did. It's obviously an extremely holy place, and we let ourselves go with the vibe of the city. Our first morning we got up at 6am and got into a boat with a lovely British couple (later whom we enjoyed a Kingfisher or two with) and cruised the famous Ganges and its ghats. You can see the pictures but the experience was surreal. After an hour we departed the boat and walked a short distance to one of the burning ghats. We didn't know exactly how we would feel about it or even how we should feel about it. We still don't, but it was powerful. Quick rewind. Ghats are simply steps that lead down into holy water, like those you saw in the Pushkar photos. The burning ghats are specific to Varanasi. This is the holiest place in Hinduism, the oldest place on earth created by Shiva, the god of destruction. Many people come here to die, if they can afford it. It is believed that if you are cremated on the Ganges' banks and your ashes are scattered into the water, your soul will be purified. For lucky souls, the cycle of rebirth ends and Nirvana is reached. You're not allowed to take photos, nor would we want to, but as we walked up there was a body being put on to a new pyre. This goes on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Don't quote us but we heard as many as 500 cremations a day take place at this one particular ghat alone.
We spent the rest of our time relaxing on the rooftop restaurant of our hotel. It was nice and was directly on the Ganges, and we were able to take in all the action without getting up. We got our first good dose of kite racing here. 6 or 7 young boys scattered on various rooftops throughout the city were facing off, trying to cut the others' lines. Overall Varanasi was an enjoyable and eye-opening stop. The only downside was our room. Being USD9 a night we shouldn't have been surprised, but it was literally like sleeping on concrete. Pat was cranky about this so Shauna proactively solved the problem for our second night. We're not sure if it came at the expense of another room, but Shauna managed to nab two mattress pads airing out in the sun on a banister. Pat knew she had done something wrong when she came sprinting and huffing through our room door barely able to carry the heavy pads. Kudos; we slept well. We couldn't stop laughing between this and Pat falling hard on the street. We were led to the hotel the previous night by a guy on speed trying to get us onto one of his tours the following day. It was late and we were exhausted by the 21 hour marathon so we let him lead us through the maze of narrow streets. At one point Pat apparently thought this dog was rabid and was going to bite him. He warily watched the pup, unaware there was a large and sharp stone step approaching on the side walk. Before he could react he hit the step and lunged forward at great speed since the pack was on his back. As our tour guide and Shauna turned Pat rolled right and nailed the stone street before flailing around on his back. It was a fairly epic fall. As we're writing this we're realizing it's possible that both of these stories are "had to be there" kind of stories, but at least now we'll remember them and we can reenact later.
The great story we save for last. Keep in mind that this all took place on a train over the course of 19 hours. So we get wait listed for the train from Varanasi to Darjeeling, just like from Udaipur to Agra. This was a big blow as there was only one train a week from Varanasi to Darjeeling, and if we didn't get on we would have missed the Himalayas. We hoped to try the same thing we did in Udaipur, which was to sweet talk our way onto an A/C Chair Class. Unfortunately this train didn't have an A/C Chair, only 2nd A/C Sleeper, 3rd A/C Sleeper, and Sleeper. Every single one of these seats was spoken for. Being the ridiculous, stubborn people we are, we went through time consuming process of filing a report with the tourist office and the station police to see if they could help us get on the train. Certain elements being lost in translation, we ended up getting a hard written letter stamped by the station police saying we had lost two tickets in 2nd A/C and to have the train ticket collector do everything in his power to get us on. After 20 minutes of back and forth with the collector on the platform (not to mention with the crowd of noisy men that always appears whenever a commotion erupts), he said with some finality, "Not possible". As the train started to move, the collector jokingly told us we could get on the Sleeper class with no seat, but pay the fare plus a small fine. We need to explain the trains classes a little here. Most foreigners do 2nd A/C or possibly even 3rd A/C. They are not great when comparing with Europe, but they are certainly doable. In these berths you are sharing compartments with small business owners, teachers, etc. Rarely does anyone dare to take general Sleeper class (at least on long overnight journeys), which is what the majority of Indians take. The ticket collector was mostly joking when he said this figuring we would not run and jump into what looks from the outside a cattle car. There are prison-like bars on the windows. He was wrong, however. We made a rash, split-second decision, and Pat screamed, "Let's do it". Shauna didn't hesitate, and ran at good speed to catch a door and jumped through, knocking this poor guy over from the momentum and weight of her pack. Pat followed just in time, and we turned around to see 300 of the most curious sets of eyes we had ever seen.
We took a deep breath and took a seat in between cars on the floor next to the bathroom. We quickly thought we made a bad decision. The facilities are gross, and the smell in these areas foul. Indian-style bathrooms is enough said. Anyway, one of the vendors selling Chai took an interest in us and led us to some proper seats. There was plenty of room and two beds on top that were empty. At 4pm, we calmed down and started to think it would be OK. At 7pm, we stopped at some place called Ballia and all hell broke loose. Waves of Indians ran onto the car screaming and chucking luggage this way and that. We quickly retreated up into the top bunks and tried to stay out of site. It didn't last long. Men were screaming at each other and then at us, demanding our tickets. We had nothing but some random hand written letter, but we didn't show it. We simply pointed to the numbers indicating the beds we were on, saying the ticket collector told us to sit there. Somehow this placated the riotous crowd in our section as we all agreed to wait for the collector to come around and check tickets. Luckily for us the collectors are not efficient and did not make it to us for several hours. Meanwhile, in other sections of the car things were getting physical. A man without an assigned bed (like us) was getting hit by a crowd of men when he refused to move. The man ended up moving quickly, but you can believe it made us uncomfortable. It got even more interesting when a group of men dressed like women came through randomly punching young men all over their bodies. Someone later explained that they were hermaphrodite prostitutes, and they often target young men to beg for money on trains. Apparently the young men often give them a rupee or two as they would rather that then be assaulted by these people. The look on Shauna's face was indescribable. We were put more at ease when we realized they had no interest in Pat we can only guess because of his skin. We had to think of our seating situation first anyway, so on the train rolled. We took the time before the collector came to make nice with the people who's seats we were in. A majority of them we around our age and were returning from a wedding. They were in a good mood and the "white celebrity" persona finally paid off. As time went on and more information came out, they realized we were in their seats but liked us too much (we're sure they needed to take more pictures too) and offered us one of their beds for the two of us. It was like Christmas. The alternative was going back out into the now-packed nether world of the toilet area for 12 hours at night. Not only this but since they were such a large group (40) the ticket collector didn't ask them for their individual tickets. Our new friends agreed to have us pretend to sleep and act as if we were one of their group. The collector bought it and we ended up traveling for free. Crazy. The money wasn't the issue; we didn't want him throwing us back into the toilet area. As we spent the rest of the night sleeping in shifts, the person awake would periodically pile drive the sleeping person every time the collector passed by.
All of the people were so friendly to us. Most couldn't believe we were in the car but all went out of their way to help us if they could. As we left the train 19 hours after hurtling ourselves on, half of our car came out to walk us to the station exit, snapping pictures all the while.
We've arrived in Darjeeling and hoping for some good views of the Himalayas tomorrow morning. We may do another installment soon including here and an India wrap, but we'll see. We head to Bangkok on Wednesday. To say we're excited it an understatement. After being so covered up in the heat, Shauna says she's wearing her bikini onto the plane.
Until next time.
S&P
The last five days have been a true roller coaster ride, so sit back with your cup of coffee and enjoy our latest installment.
We last left you taking in the gracious hospitality at the Master Gust House in the Indian capital. The owner Avnish, his children, and wonderful staff helped us recover from several tiring days in Agra and Rajasthan. There are only five rooms here while Avnish and his family live downstairs, so it's a very intimate stay. We met some wonderful people each day as we sipped coffee or ate a meal in the communal kitchen, which sometimes doubled as a makeshift bedroom.
Since we had such trouble getting in from Agra, we really only had two days to see the city. Obviously this is not enough time for such a big place. It rained hard (first of our trip) both days to boot, at least in the mornings until about 1pm. This limited what we could do. Apparently Avnish gives "Hidden Delhi" tours of the old city like no other, and he couldn't do it due to the rain and mud. He did bring us to the daily wholesale flower market, however, and this was great. After seeing it we assume one exists in every city (where else do the bodegas on every corner in NYC get all those fresh flowers daily?), but it was a first for us. We enjoyed the atmosphere at 7am between the amazing aromas, colors, and haggling.
Other than that we spent a day walking around New Delhi and Old Delhi, respectively. New Delhi consists of all the old Raj (British controlled) architecture and now the power base of the country. There are some impressive buildings in the area that look in many ways like the capital of a powerful western nation. It is clean, quiet, and green. The Commonwealth Games were here just this past summer, so we're not sure if this has something to do with the sanity, but it was nice to walk around. Old Delhi is just that; old. It is a maze of streets where you could easily lose yourself for an afternoon. We did just that and stumbled upon Karim's, an Old Delhi restaurant spanning 4 generations. We gorged. Besides gawking at the largest mosque in Asia, we also experienced our first Sikh temple. We both enjoyed this very much. There is a lot of energy here. Sikhs are highly devout but also known for their generosity. After removing our shoes and washing our hands and feet, we had our heads wrapped as we entered the temple. The place was consistently packed with devotees as they formed almost an assembly line to give thanks. We sat and took it all in for a while. We're aware of the whole Indira Gandhi thing, but being in that temple it didn't seem like these people would ever be capable of violence. They are so giving they have a huge kitchen attached where anyone can come and get a meal for free, even us.
We also got stuck in the most ludicrous traffic jam on the way to the train station. The vehicles surrounding us would make you laugh. They ranged from buses to just a guy walking with his mobile produce stand in one of 12 illegal lanes that often form at red lights. After making our train safely, we proceeded at a snail's pace to Varanasi. Our 12 hour ride turned into a 21 hour journey.
Varanasi is one of our favorite places so far. Sandwiched in between two long overnight train dates, we didn't expect to relax as much as we did. It's obviously an extremely holy place, and we let ourselves go with the vibe of the city. Our first morning we got up at 6am and got into a boat with a lovely British couple (later whom we enjoyed a Kingfisher or two with) and cruised the famous Ganges and its ghats. You can see the pictures but the experience was surreal. After an hour we departed the boat and walked a short distance to one of the burning ghats. We didn't know exactly how we would feel about it or even how we should feel about it. We still don't, but it was powerful. Quick rewind. Ghats are simply steps that lead down into holy water, like those you saw in the Pushkar photos. The burning ghats are specific to Varanasi. This is the holiest place in Hinduism, the oldest place on earth created by Shiva, the god of destruction. Many people come here to die, if they can afford it. It is believed that if you are cremated on the Ganges' banks and your ashes are scattered into the water, your soul will be purified. For lucky souls, the cycle of rebirth ends and Nirvana is reached. You're not allowed to take photos, nor would we want to, but as we walked up there was a body being put on to a new pyre. This goes on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. Don't quote us but we heard as many as 500 cremations a day take place at this one particular ghat alone.
We spent the rest of our time relaxing on the rooftop restaurant of our hotel. It was nice and was directly on the Ganges, and we were able to take in all the action without getting up. We got our first good dose of kite racing here. 6 or 7 young boys scattered on various rooftops throughout the city were facing off, trying to cut the others' lines. Overall Varanasi was an enjoyable and eye-opening stop. The only downside was our room. Being USD9 a night we shouldn't have been surprised, but it was literally like sleeping on concrete. Pat was cranky about this so Shauna proactively solved the problem for our second night. We're not sure if it came at the expense of another room, but Shauna managed to nab two mattress pads airing out in the sun on a banister. Pat knew she had done something wrong when she came sprinting and huffing through our room door barely able to carry the heavy pads. Kudos; we slept well. We couldn't stop laughing between this and Pat falling hard on the street. We were led to the hotel the previous night by a guy on speed trying to get us onto one of his tours the following day. It was late and we were exhausted by the 21 hour marathon so we let him lead us through the maze of narrow streets. At one point Pat apparently thought this dog was rabid and was going to bite him. He warily watched the pup, unaware there was a large and sharp stone step approaching on the side walk. Before he could react he hit the step and lunged forward at great speed since the pack was on his back. As our tour guide and Shauna turned Pat rolled right and nailed the stone street before flailing around on his back. It was a fairly epic fall. As we're writing this we're realizing it's possible that both of these stories are "had to be there" kind of stories, but at least now we'll remember them and we can reenact later.
The great story we save for last. Keep in mind that this all took place on a train over the course of 19 hours. So we get wait listed for the train from Varanasi to Darjeeling, just like from Udaipur to Agra. This was a big blow as there was only one train a week from Varanasi to Darjeeling, and if we didn't get on we would have missed the Himalayas. We hoped to try the same thing we did in Udaipur, which was to sweet talk our way onto an A/C Chair Class. Unfortunately this train didn't have an A/C Chair, only 2nd A/C Sleeper, 3rd A/C Sleeper, and Sleeper. Every single one of these seats was spoken for. Being the ridiculous, stubborn people we are, we went through time consuming process of filing a report with the tourist office and the station police to see if they could help us get on the train. Certain elements being lost in translation, we ended up getting a hard written letter stamped by the station police saying we had lost two tickets in 2nd A/C and to have the train ticket collector do everything in his power to get us on. After 20 minutes of back and forth with the collector on the platform (not to mention with the crowd of noisy men that always appears whenever a commotion erupts), he said with some finality, "Not possible". As the train started to move, the collector jokingly told us we could get on the Sleeper class with no seat, but pay the fare plus a small fine. We need to explain the trains classes a little here. Most foreigners do 2nd A/C or possibly even 3rd A/C. They are not great when comparing with Europe, but they are certainly doable. In these berths you are sharing compartments with small business owners, teachers, etc. Rarely does anyone dare to take general Sleeper class (at least on long overnight journeys), which is what the majority of Indians take. The ticket collector was mostly joking when he said this figuring we would not run and jump into what looks from the outside a cattle car. There are prison-like bars on the windows. He was wrong, however. We made a rash, split-second decision, and Pat screamed, "Let's do it". Shauna didn't hesitate, and ran at good speed to catch a door and jumped through, knocking this poor guy over from the momentum and weight of her pack. Pat followed just in time, and we turned around to see 300 of the most curious sets of eyes we had ever seen.
We took a deep breath and took a seat in between cars on the floor next to the bathroom. We quickly thought we made a bad decision. The facilities are gross, and the smell in these areas foul. Indian-style bathrooms is enough said. Anyway, one of the vendors selling Chai took an interest in us and led us to some proper seats. There was plenty of room and two beds on top that were empty. At 4pm, we calmed down and started to think it would be OK. At 7pm, we stopped at some place called Ballia and all hell broke loose. Waves of Indians ran onto the car screaming and chucking luggage this way and that. We quickly retreated up into the top bunks and tried to stay out of site. It didn't last long. Men were screaming at each other and then at us, demanding our tickets. We had nothing but some random hand written letter, but we didn't show it. We simply pointed to the numbers indicating the beds we were on, saying the ticket collector told us to sit there. Somehow this placated the riotous crowd in our section as we all agreed to wait for the collector to come around and check tickets. Luckily for us the collectors are not efficient and did not make it to us for several hours. Meanwhile, in other sections of the car things were getting physical. A man without an assigned bed (like us) was getting hit by a crowd of men when he refused to move. The man ended up moving quickly, but you can believe it made us uncomfortable. It got even more interesting when a group of men dressed like women came through randomly punching young men all over their bodies. Someone later explained that they were hermaphrodite prostitutes, and they often target young men to beg for money on trains. Apparently the young men often give them a rupee or two as they would rather that then be assaulted by these people. The look on Shauna's face was indescribable. We were put more at ease when we realized they had no interest in Pat we can only guess because of his skin. We had to think of our seating situation first anyway, so on the train rolled. We took the time before the collector came to make nice with the people who's seats we were in. A majority of them we around our age and were returning from a wedding. They were in a good mood and the "white celebrity" persona finally paid off. As time went on and more information came out, they realized we were in their seats but liked us too much (we're sure they needed to take more pictures too) and offered us one of their beds for the two of us. It was like Christmas. The alternative was going back out into the now-packed nether world of the toilet area for 12 hours at night. Not only this but since they were such a large group (40) the ticket collector didn't ask them for their individual tickets. Our new friends agreed to have us pretend to sleep and act as if we were one of their group. The collector bought it and we ended up traveling for free. Crazy. The money wasn't the issue; we didn't want him throwing us back into the toilet area. As we spent the rest of the night sleeping in shifts, the person awake would periodically pile drive the sleeping person every time the collector passed by.
All of the people were so friendly to us. Most couldn't believe we were in the car but all went out of their way to help us if they could. As we left the train 19 hours after hurtling ourselves on, half of our car came out to walk us to the station exit, snapping pictures all the while.
We've arrived in Darjeeling and hoping for some good views of the Himalayas tomorrow morning. We may do another installment soon including here and an India wrap, but we'll see. We head to Bangkok on Wednesday. To say we're excited it an understatement. After being so covered up in the heat, Shauna says she's wearing her bikini onto the plane.
Until next time.
S&P
Wow! Just got to read your last blog! Craziness. I'm on the Florida Panhandle so very much out of the loop. With the whitest sand beaches I've ever seen, I'm definitely not F
ReplyDeletefeeling that train ride, although you described it quite well. Going to Bangkok will be R&R. When you watched to scene at the ghat did it seem like the people were happy to be able to die there? I'm really not sure of the whole deal, would it just be the Brahmins or are there other castes that do this, too? Hope all is well--I assume you are now in Cambodia. Enjoy. Try not to fall down, Pat. Maybe we can Skype early next week. I'm having a great time, heading to the great state of Alabama today, then on to Mississippi, 2 states I've never been to! Love you guys. Oh, hope you're having some great tea.