Varanasi!

Finally made it to Varanasi! after all i've read and heard about it - it was one of the places that made me think, ok, i have to go to India. It felt amazing that afternoon arriving in Varanasi after the very long train ride - looking out at the mother Ganga in the afternoon sun and going, well, im here, at last =)



Stepping outside the Shanti Guesthouse. First day, walking down the snaking alleys and maze of side streets and side streets of side streets in Varanasi, down to the ghats. We switched guesthouses like 3 times, but finally still, irony irony, wound up at the Shanti - some of the other options were just too sterile/characterless/soulless compared to the Shanti's flaky, moldy walls and shoddy rooms (plus the four floor climb to my room) - the rooftop restaurant, of course, the place to be in Varanasi where we hung out and talked languidly over late breakfasts of toast with beans and eggs, muesli, cold coffee, hot chocolate (first time in India... bit of a sense of home to us all, i guess. And yes, after all the curry (North) and thaali in South India) following an early morning stroll down to the ghats, and just relaxed and shared stories before going for an afternoon siesta, waking up when the day cools at around 4, popping out again to the ghats, catching the Ganga puja ceremony at 7 when the great mother Ganga is put to rest for the night, which involves priests of Shiva chanting, blowing on the conch shell as a symbol of the deity, tolling of bells, chandeliers of fire and throngs of pilgrims. And being sandwiched in it all in the sweltering heat listening as the chants intensify and the bells toll, looking out into the darkness that is the river Ganga.



Ahh... i realise how much i miss India... Varanasi, Amritsar, Chennai, and around Tamil Nadu especially, where i spent long periods of time walking the streets amongst the crowds without seeing a foreign face for days, and stopping by the makeshift stalls to buy chai, stand around and just people watch with other people.


I can remember my last proper cup of chai in India - the breakfast brew at 7 in the morning before catching a cyclerickshaw to "Paul Travels" headquarters (a small provisions shop with the owner frying wafer thin ommelettes as free brekkie (promised on the ticket) and watery chai with travellers milling around) for the bus to Sunauli-Belahiya. Then the long ride into Nepal.