Incredible !ndia

My final 24 hours here in India has been packed with 'lasts'... the last crazy rickshaw ride from the train station, my last marsala dosa and lime soda, the last curry and beer, and a final ride on the Delhi metro in the oasis of calm that is the women's carriage.

Amongst plenty of shopping (finally reactivated the shopping gene!), I managed to visit the Ghandi museum, at the site where he was assasinated in Delhi. It was timely to reflect on his vision for India, and the challenges the country faces today.

In planning to travel here, I think I underestimated both myself and India. There were moments when I wondered if I was crazy, and I know many shared the sentiment. To my surprise, it's been a joy to travel here, and forays to countries such as Bolivia and Egypt stood me in good stead in terms of minimizing any culture shock. Sure, it can be dusty and dirty, and it certainly isn't like home - but that's why you travel isn't it?

Travelling has been easy in a country where people are quick to help and many speak English. Warm smiles and genuine welcomes have been many, from the doorman at The Park on my first morning here to the chai-wallah on yesterday's train.

The colours that you seen in everyday life continue to captivate me, and the scents will linger in my mind - spices cooking in coconut oil, incense burning, morning smoke, marsala tea, cows... and yes, the occasional stench of urine. The land of contrasts!

I'm heading home now with a heart full of love for this crazy country and her people, thankful that I've travelled safe and well. Until next time, namaste!


Below: A couple of my favorite things - Mother Dairy (a BYO milk can milkbar), an Ambassador taxi, marsala dosa and a Hindu shrine. And the memorial marking Ghandi's last steps.

India's spiritual heart - Varanasi

In keeping with the 'Reece Irving' tribute tour theme for this last week, my final destination was Varanasi, India's holiest city on the mother Ganga. It was a combination of luck and good planning to finish my sojourn here in the city where life and death sit side by side.

After a overnight train ride, a cyclo through crowded streets, and a long stint dragging my bag behind me along the ghats (riverside steps) in the midday sun, I was less than impressed with my 'Maharaja' room at the Palace on the Steps. In Indian terms I figured that the room itself accounted for about $10 of the $50 per night I was paying.

But funny how things change, as the spiritual mystique of Varanasi enveloped me. The location was perfect - just a couple of ghats along from the main ghat, Dasaswamedh Ghat. My room had a tiny sitting room with windows in every direction looking down on the steps and across the mighty Ganges. From dawn until after dusk, the sounds of life unfolding floated up. Over the next few days I would begin to recognise the local Chai stand, the fortune teller, our tribe of monkeys, the cows that inhabited the back lane, the resident sadhu and the puppies on the steps below as home.

One thing I've noticed about India is that it attracts many interesting people, and the Palace on the Steps was no exception. Conversation was encouraged by the design of the hotel cafe - rooftop and caged - to keep the monkeys out! With the semblance of the visitors room at the local lockup, it couldn't help but encourage conversation with your fellow inmates!

I hooked up with Sally, an academic on sabbatical from New York for a tour of the Old Town. Young Lalit, a guide in the making, showed us around the labyrinth of lanes that sat up above the ghats. With the exception of some new incursions - Internet cafes and 'German' bakeries, life continues as it has for hundreds of years. We had the opportunity to visit the Vishwanath Temple, the holiest of Hindu sites in Varanassi. There was a bit of 'crossing palms with silver' (AKA 'donations') to hustle us in a side door. The queues were long and security tight - with an anxiety that they are within shot of the local mosque. I considered this overstated, until realizing that Varanasi has been the site of several terrorist attacks in recent years, so subsequently everyone is a little toey.

THE thing to do in Varanasi is a boat ride on the Ganges, and both sunrise and dusk offer different experiences. Bundling out of bed at 6am, it is a quick few steps down to the riverbank to meet with a boatman and head out. As the sun rises, the ghats are full of pilgrims bathing and performing 'puja' (prayer and offerings) and locals preparing for the day ahead. In the golden rays of the early morning sun, it is a colorful sight, and unlike anything I have seen before. At day's end, it is possible to view the aarti prayer service from the water, with its bells, chanting and candelabras. Small lotus flower candles are launched into the river as an offering, looking magical as they slowly float downstream.

During the day, the ghats host every activity you could imagine. The dhobi-wallahs scrub and beat clothes and sheets into submission. Kids play cricket on the uneven steps. Water buffalo seek out a feed amongst the refuse that washes up. The dead, shrouded in gold and saffron, are carried down on bamboo stretchers for cremation at the burning ghats. The boatmen tout for business, whilst the sadhus (holymen) offer to pose for pictures - 10 rupees please. Life and death exist side by side.

It was one of the hardest places to leave.

Below: Just some of the photos that I took during my 3 1/2 days in Varanasi. Note the world's greatest mango lassi, the view from my window, and Keshav the boatman from Assi Ghat (a great friend of Reece - Kashi Nath).

Wonderful Orchha

Our good family friend and Indian guru, Reece, is very fond of both Orchha and Varanassi, and so my final week in India see me following in his footsteps.

Orchha is a six hour trainride from Delhi, and a world away. Perched on the River Betwa, it has an abundance of temples and a palace, around which the village has grown. The surrounding fields are green and gold, with the overall effect being very calming and a good spot to slow down for a few days.

Last night found me at the Ram Raja cafe to meet Reece's good friends, Rani and Parbat. Their eyes lit up with the mention of his name. After a very sociable marsala chai, I'll pulled out the photo that mum had sent with me - a snap of her and a young couple from Orchha that 'I must look up'.

Next thing I'm on the back of a bike and being delivered to Vandama's home. She now has a successful cooking class business, of which one was in progress. I felt like I was intruding but she asked me to entertain her gorgeous girls whilst she finished up the class. She then spoilt me with dinner and filled me in on all the news from the past couple of years. It was a magical experience, and now I too have a photo to pass onto the next family member who visits Orchha!

Below: Lots of photos for Reece and mum!

A hop, step and jump to Delhi...

[Not sure if this will post in order - but is the pre-Orchha blog]

It's just been two of us on the extended tour, so thankfully we have a great local guide. Dheerendra has been both knowledgeable and good humoured - the perfect combination!

Jodhpur is sometimes known as the 'Blue City', given that many of the houses are whitewashed blue - or should that be bluewashed? Originally this was to denote the home of members of the Brahmin caste, but in recent times it has become more widespread as the colour is thought to be a mosquito repellant.

The Fort and Palace in Jodphur are well preserved, complete with a terrific audio guide for self-tours. I think that the Maharanas must have bought in some expertise or a consultant - even the museum shop was more V&A than the usual tourist tat.

This Peregrine tour has been fantastic for getting us off the beaten track, and our final night in rural Rajasthan was no exception. Another converted palace in a small village. Not as fancy as some previously, but a good chance to explore a small community which is relatively untouched. Pre-dinner drinks on the rooftop included the obligatory music and dance show, but these have always been enjoyable, and you must admire their enthusiasm when the audience is small!

Our final nights were spent in the gorgeous town of Udaipur. This is famous for its Lake Palace - now converted to a luxury hotel with rates starting at $500. These weren't our digs for the night (booked out for a wedding...) but the alternative was pretty swish - a gorgeous blue-themed room with a balcony overlooking Lake Sarwoop.
Udaipur was an easy town to explore, and dinner on the final night at a lakeside restaurant was superb - complete with twinkling lights across the water, a floodlight palace or two, and a fireworks show courtesy of the newlyweds!

An overnight train back to Delhi, and it all felt more familiar on this second visit. Delhi is huge, but much more efficiently navigated by Metro I've discovered. Clean, quick and cheap - and complete with a women's only carriage on each train. An oasis of calm in the madness that is Delhi!

Love and marriage Indian style

Valentine's Day seems like a good prompt to reflect on love and marriage here in India. Sardya, the woman sharing my train carriage today, is on a special mission. She has been given an envelope to deliver to one of her neighbors in Jhansi from a work colleague in Agra. Inside is a photo of the beautiful Cynthia, who may be considered as a match for the neighbor's son. If both families are happy with the photos then the conversation progresses to suitable marriage-material skills. Is she a good cook? Does he have a suitable job?

This all sounds a bit unromantic, but a very practical approach in a country where marriage and children is everything. There is no fate worse for women than to be a single mother - either through being widowed or abandoned. Divorce is rare. This would be viewed as being a burden on your family.

Prem, one on our guides, spoke lovingly of his wife, and how beautiful she is (although prone to a little grumpiness in the morning when she has to milk the cows, make the lunches, feed the children...). Dhereendra, our second guide, will probably marry later this year and entrusts to his mother the shortlisting process as she knows him well.

Where arranged marriages are less successful are those in rural/ poorer areas where girls as young as 12-13 are betrothed to much older men. This is less a marriage partnership and can place young girls in situations where their husbands are alcoholic or abusive. Thankfully, laws and social mores are moving towards a minimum age of 18 for marriage.

The alternative is a 'love marriage' where couples court and marry in the way we are familiar. This is more common amongst city professionals, who may delay marriage until their late 20s. I spent some time talking to Prerna, a gorgeous new mother from Udaipur, who courted for six years whilst completing her medical degree. By chance, her husband is a well-known Indian wedding planner, and big Bollywood style weddings are in vogue, with celebrations lasting for several days. When we were in Udaipur, both lake palaces were booked out for weddings. From our vantage point at dinner, we could see the invitees being ferried out, hear the drums playing across the water and got to share the fireworks. For more ideas you can check out Prerna's husbands website: www.ankit.in

Wedding traditions include the groom (usually very nervous looking!) being paraded through town to his bride's home. In Jaisalmer, one paints the date of the forthcoming nuptials outside the family home, and everyone who knows the family turns up. A good way to save on invitations and RSVPs?

Below: Prerna and baby Myra on the train to Delhi. Sardya and her very special delivery. Wedding procession in Jodhpur and an invite in Jaisalmer.

Jaisalmer - a Rajasthan jewel

Jaisalmer rises from the sandy desert flats, a walled old town perched on a rocky outcrop. Within the fort walls lies houses, temples, and these days, souvenir stores. Floodlit at night, it made a beautiful sight.

Northern India is not for those with a pigeon phobia. At every landmark they are present in large numbers, and are contributing to the decline of many properties. This is the challenge that India faces - how to conserve its history, the basis of its tourist industry, when there are so many competing causes such as health and education. A demonstrated understanding of conservation values and practices is rare, and it is not unusual to see frescos and carved stone deteriorating under the pressure of so many visitors.

The havelis in Jaisalmer were evidence of this. Once the homes of merchants and wealthy families, with their central courtyards and balustraded balconies, they now host a daily procession of tourists who are free to clamber all over, and touch everything. And the pigeons...