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We are up at 5am ready to leave our hotel by 5.30am so we will be on the Ganges for sunrise. The roads are a lot quieter than last night but our 6 seater still has to jostle for space on the road along with the other cars,motorbikes, bicycles, tuk tuks, rickshaws, stray dogs and the odd goat. The cows meander at will across the roads, stopping to graze on rubbish left from the night before. But somehow this chaos seems to work. Most of the dirty old roller doors to the shops remain shut at this hour but there are a few who have raised their doors ready for business. Others are sound asleep on the grimy steps in front of the store, heads covered with rugs, completely oblivious to the constant beeping of horns and traffic passing them by. I look up at the dilapidated second story of these ancient buildings and notice lights on and the occasional person appears on a balcony and watches as the streets are coming alive. We get to a point where we need to disembark from the car and start to walk as only tuk tuks, bikes and rickshaws can proceed further towards the ghats. As we get closer to the river bank there is a line of beggars sitting cross legged and the cobblestones with tin plates in front of them. I try not to look at them, because I know if I do I will want to give them something but all advice is against doing so. And then we are at the riverbank, walking down the stone steps and carefully scrambling onto one of the old wooden row boats. We are surrounded by men and women who are bathing in the sacred river. The women are mostly clothed, the men bare chested. Some are splashing water over themselves while others are completing emerging themselves, over and over again they bob up and down in the water. We wonder if the water is cold at this hour in the morning but none of us are game enough to even touch this water as we can see the filth floating all around us and the sight and the smell of a dead cow floating past us last night remains with us. As we row away from the waters edge, the water is running and does not appear quite as polluted. As the sun begins to rise, casting an orange glow over the water, Laurie glances at his watch. It's 6am which means it's 10.30am back in Australia. We know it would be part way through Ted's funeral back home as it started at 10am. So we both gently lay a marigold garland afloat on the Ganges and say our own private goodbyes as the current carries them away.
It is rather fitting that we are in Varanasi on this day. Religion and spirituality is so tangible in this city of temples. As we walk the narrow lanes of the old city there are countless alters to different gods and goddesses, some just a hole in a wall. The smell of incense hangs heavy in the air. This has been one of my must see places in India and it hasn't disappointed.
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