Another early morning RadioCab found us boarding an Express train to Haridwar, a holy Hindu city where pilgrims flock to to bathe in the fast-flowing Ganges (Ganga). We checked into our bamboo huts at Bhaj-Govindam located right on the bank of the Ganges, with our very own private ghat and garden.

To do the tourist bit, that evening, we ambled down to the 'Har-Ki-Pairi' Ghat were the crowds assemble every evening to release their floating offerings onto the Ganges. Apparently these 'Footsteps of God' is where Vishnu is said to have dropped some heavenly nectar and left behind a footprint. Making this a very sacred spot and the place to wash away your sins; should you have any to wash away! You are barely down the steps from the road before people are in your face trying to sell you flower baskets and the like. Flower baskets in hand (from a lovely lady; not one of the countless pushy guys) we made are way to the Clock Tower where the main ghat (steps into the Ganges) are. Seconds later we were encircled by men in blue shirts waving duplicate pads in my face telling me to write my name down. Luckily I had read about these 'official uniformed donation collectors' (who gave us a receipt which we had to show every time we were hounded again by a different group of blue monsters) in the guidebook, so we gave them some small change and whipped our receipt. Unfortunately as lovely as the experience is depicted in the guidebook, flaming torches, bells chiming in rhythm, the sun setting, the leaf baskets with flower heads and petals inside with a makeshift candle on top, unfortunately certain persistent people wouldn't leave us alone to light our candle and offer our flower basket into the Ganges in peace. However, the following evening, we decided to have our ownprivate flower basket offering on our hotels private ghats. So after the cable car visits to Mansa Devi and Chandi Devi (some Temples on the hilltops) we retired for the evening in our hotel gardens and waited for sunset. To our surprise what we thought was the maintenance hut, turned out to be our hotels very own private shrine. So whilst we were sitting down on our private ghat waiting for sunset, along came the guy who fixes the air conditioning and the man who brought us breakfast this morning, wearing their saffron robes chanting and waving their aarti flames over the river. Their ritual took about twenty minutes and completely took me by surprise. How much more peaceful tonight's more intimate river worship ceremony (ganga aarti) had turned out to be in comparison to the badgering of the night before.