Day 12 cont'd.

We take a cycle rickshaw, with 2 people on each pulled by a man who doesn't look like he could blow up a paper bag. 15 minutes to get to the Ghats (steps down to the water) on the Ganges in Varanasi about 6.30 last night as the sun is setting. Beautiful, serene sight, such a contrast to the chaotic streets. There is something magical about this place. Get on to a rowing boat after fighting our way through the usual beggars and hawkers, on the way, some sad sights of people who are broken and really desperate.

On the water, the scenes are amazing. We row along to one of the Ghats where open air cremations are taking place. Fires rage - 8,9,10 at a time in just this one place. The bodies are wrapped and covered in oils and then placed on the pyres and set alight by the closest relative. Only the men are allowed here as it is considered too much for the other members of the family. When the fire burns out, part of the remains are floated gently off into the Ganges to reach Nirvana or go to the next reincarnation. It's a surreal but somehow reverent and beautiful ceremony. The famiilies seem unaware of the boats that come near but keep a respectful distance and no photos are taken as a mark of respect.

We then are rowed along the Ghats taking in the amazing sights of people bathing in the river, priests chanting mantras and the faithful desperately keen to fulfil their destiny of a pilgrimage to the holiest river in the holiest city of all of India. As the sun sets the HIndu ceremony gathers pace and the sounds increase to a crescendo. We float off our candles onto the water and say a prayer as they move serenely off into the darkness.

Later we wander the packed streets, soaking up the atmosphere of the place. We are swept along by a tide of people. The noise and chaos of the rickshaw ride back to the hotel is indescribable. Imagine London on Christmas Eve and then multiply by a factor of ten and you may be somewhere near it if you add in the lights, the smells good and bad, the alien culture and the cacophony of constant horns demanding right of way.

Day 13 Varanasi.

We are up at 4.30 to go the the sunrise ceremony at the riverside. Off on the boat again and along the ghats with the sun rising over the opposite bank of the Ganges, a magical experience again. The sounds of the chants ring out and scenes unfold of a multitide of bathers offering the water of the Ganges to the sun, funeral pyres still burning and Yoga exercises on the Ghats. All this while the dead, bloated bodies of cows float along the banks just a few yards from the people.

A walk through the lanes to the Golden temple of the Hindu's right next door to the main Moslem mosque, armed soldiers everywhere. We are searched and have to leave bags and cameras outside. Even then we are not permitted to see inside either of these temples.

Later we are taken to the place about 6km outside the city, Sarnath, where the Buddha gave his first sermon to his 5 disciples. A temple built in the 1930's now marks the spot and its painted walls inside depict the story of his birth as a prince, his search and accomplishment of enlightenment and his efforts to spread the word and bring peace to all. It is undeniably profound and has many lessons for us today in these tough times.

Catch up on sleep and then off to visit an orphans home. Tranquility just off the chaos and noise of a main street, we are greeted by first shy, then happy smiling faces and laughter as we chat, take photos which delight the kids and give them treats of Coca Cola, crisps, balloons and pens. A delightful interlude amongst everything else we've experienced!

Mark Twain summed this place up perfectly when we wrote: "Varanasi is a city older than history, it is a city older than legend, it is a city older than time itself. And it is a city that looks even older than all of these put together".

Well that's enough for now, I'm off to enjoy a nice decadent cold beer!