Varanasi
Varanasi is one of the holiest cities in India where Hindu pilgrims come to wash their sins away in the Ganges River. This is a real act of faith as the river is one of the most polluted in the world. The pollution comes from raw sewage (80% of the rural and 10% of the urban population in India do not have access to a toilet) and from industry that pumps 300 million gallons of waste in to the water every day. This, coupled with about 100 bodies that are daily burned and dumped in the river, and the dead dogs and cattle that float around, results in a bacteria content 10,000% higher than the government “safe standard” for bathing.
Watching all this action unfold in a row boat at dawn was a truly magical experience. Floating by, watching people playing with death by immersing themselves in the water, cleaning their teeth or burning a recently deceased relative, gave one a real taste of what this country is about. This was also reinforced by the con-men and pushy sales people who likewise take to the boats to badger you at every step of the way. Even stepping out from the boat at a “burning ghat” (one of the jetties where bodies are burned) you are approached by a “representative” who tries to get you to sponsor the next burning. The actual burning is a remarkably peaceful experience – no crying, no wailing – the families are pleased that their relatives are off to their next life and that they managed to get a burning appointment (there is a long waiting list) and their contentment shows.
Hotels in Varanasi are not that much better than Agra. The citys’ electricity supply is so unreliable; it is not surprising families resort to burnings, a crematorium would constantly have black-outs.
Leaving Varanasi, we took the first class train to Calcutta – a far nicer experience all-round. Here we actually had a door and a conductor as well as a much better class of vermin – we had a mouse rather than the usual cockroaches.

Kolkata (Calcutta)
Calcutta is a great place and was the first place we visited where the splendor of the British rule was really apparent - from the majestic Victoria Memorial a mix between St. Pauls and the Taj Mahal – to the astounding collection of memorabilia housed in the Marble Palace. Built in 1835, by an avid collection of Victoriana, it now houses a collection which the London Victoria and Albert Museum would kill for. The whistle-stop tour takes you through a treasure of chintz, marble busts, huge candle chandeliers and gold clocks. This eventually leads to the ball-room where the dim 60 watt bulb is briefly illuminated to show the huge Rubens masterpiece “The Marriage of St. Catherine” and a number from Joshua Reynolds – all sitting in non-air conditioned rooms open to the not insignificant city air pollution.
Calcutta left a number of impressions on me – swimming in the hotel pool while a flock of crows arrived to have a drink, watching Harry Potter in the “expensive” seats of the Empire Cinema while huge fans cool the enormous clanking projectors and watching the police manage the daily traffic direction change at 2 p.m.
The final experience of Calcutta, however, did rather shock and showed the delta between new and old. Stepping off the shiny metro and going down a side street you find the Kalighat Temple - supposedly the original temple from which the of the village of Kolikata and thus Calcutta originates. Walking round the temple a small black billy-goat was being washed and blessed with petals and incense, when a bell was rung. Looking round 2 pre-washed goats were dragged out and beheaded in front of me. More disturbing than holding up their dripping headless bodies was the fact their decapitated torsos continued to spasm for about 20 seconds after death. It is an enduring image.

Mumbai (Bombay)
Our hotel, the J.W. Marriott, was the type of accommodation featured in the Sunday colour supplements. A beach front location with 3 pools (including one with filtered sea water - nobody swims in the actual sea it is so polluted and in a country where the ultimate nirvana is to douse yourself in the filthy Ganges, that is saying something.)
Bombay is vast sprawling conurbation built on 7 islands and again, although hot, is a really nice city. Sporadic Victoriana jumps out at you at every turn and the hustle and bustle of a big trading city.
Apart from downtown and the India Gate, the main tourist attraction in Mumbai lies in some caves on Elephanta Island outside the city. The caves date between 450 and 750 AD and are dedicated to Shiva (the Hindu destroyer) with some amazing sculptures.
The people are also nice and friendly offering you food in the train on the way back. However, such food may have unforeseen consequences resulting in a quick trip to the local alchemist. Our guide book suggested an antibiotic, which was handed over the counter despite the large, red “only to be sold under prescription” label on the box. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask for some medical marijuana, but a violent bowel movement preempted my question, necessitating a rather swift dash back to the hotel. With my underwear stuffed with toilet paper we said good-bye to Mumbai and flew to our final port of call, Aurangabad.

Aurangabad
A town of 1.5 million inhabitants that would be inconsequential was it not for its proximity to two of India’s highlights, the Buddhist Caves of Ajanta and the Ellora Cave Temples.
The 30 Ajanta caves are set in the steep face of a U-shaped rock gorge and date from the 5th century AD – remnants of the richly decorated paintings adorn both the 25 residential caves and the 5 temple caves. They were discovered accidentally by a British Captain, John Smith in 1819 on military maneuvers, and the first thing he did? Scratch his name, date and regiment on the wall – yes, the first graffiti artist of the time, and naturally British.
The Ellora caves in contrast are a mixture of Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples decorated with a profusion of remarkably detailed sculptured. The main attraction is the Kailasa Temple, dedicated again to Shiva it is the world’s largest monolithic sculpture, hewn from solid rock by 7000 laborers over 150 years.

In Summary
In conclusion, a fascinating trip but I have had enough of India, for now. The pollution and over-population coupled with rapid industrialization mean major growing pains for this democracy – but for now things work, but the growing pain for both India and the rest of the world will be there for many years to come.

Delhi
Arriving very late at night in Delhi, we collapsed and waking late the next morning, my traveling companion informed as to that nights dream, where they killed me with a spade – an ominous start, was it a prediction of death on the trip or would I really be murdered? Time would tell, but I made a mental note to hide any spades we encountered along the way.
Our first day was spent visiting some of the highlights missed a month ago – the India Gate WWI memorial, the Bahai Temple (more commonly known as the Lotus Temple) and the imposing Qutb Minar Complex with the mysterious 7 meter high iron pillar, which baffle scientists as to how iron of such purity could have been forged in 413 AD.
These excursions although interesting, bought out the usual beggars, illegal snake charmers, pushy sales people and con-artists with which all white people are plagued with during any trip to India. The snake charmer was a highlight though – this practice is now illegal and between watching out for the snake and the tourist police this charmer almost got bitten – most gratifying and possibly the first death on the trip.
From Delhi we took the first of numerous night-trains to the Corbett National Park Tiger Reserve to do some tiger spotting. Getting out at the right stop proved to be an issue as the train “schedule” does not seem to be based on any clock-based system and the minimal signage at the stations made us sweat. “Not to worry”, my companion happily chirped, “we can ask the conductor to knock at the compartment door”. Two concepts embodied in this sentence we missing from the train, “conductor” was one, and “door” was the other. Still we arrived on time to our next near death experience.

Corbett National Park
It was still dark when we were collected from the train station in a 4 wheel-drive jeep (with doors). The trip to our camp was part road, part river-bed and part 45° perilous rock face – how the vehicle stayed on the “road” remains a mystery to me. The camp itself was, however, beautiful – as it emerged candle lit out of the morning darkness (candles were a big part of the trip as there was no electricity). The accommodation at the camp consisted of tents with en-suite tiled bathrooms – as well as wonderfully attentive staff, who cooked up amazing meals and packed lunches for tiger safaris and would supply the odd luxury bucket of hot water to wash off the safari dust.
Looking for tiger proved to me more difficult than we first expected. Despite the hordes of tigers seen by fellow camp dwellers, the first day consisted of driving round and round with 6 other doorless 4 wheel-drive jeeps on a small number of predefined roads in the reserve – it reminded me of a Disney ride as we kept seeing the same cars over and over again. Although we saw some very nervous deer, a python and some spiders we saw no tiger. As a result, we decided for a different approach on day 2 – ditch the jeep and use an elephant. Elephants have a number of advantages over jeeps, they are ecologically sound (just picking and eating fuel on the way), emissions are more environmentally friendly (although equally noxious), they are tall (offering great views) and can go literally anywhere in the bush. There are, however, some downsides: they have no doors, they are not as comfortable as a jeep, they are slow (so when a tiger is spotted you get there way after it and everyone else is has left for lunch) and steering them is difficult – it is accomplished by inhumanly bashing a huge metal spike against the head in the direction you want to go.
With the elephant we saw tiger droppings, tiger scratch marks, tiger lunch left-overs, tiger foot prints and tiger arse prints, where it had sat down. But no real tiger – in fact the closest we got to a tiger was as we left reserve – there was a shop with big stuffed tiger toys. So we left, with heavy hearts and an adrenalin rush we drove back down the cliff to the train station – this time in the jeep without doors – to our next destination, Jaipur.

Jaipur
Jaipur with Delhi and Agra form the “golden triangle” of India – with some of the most renowned sights. Jaipur is known as the “pink city” and has a medley of sights from the magnificent Amber fort-palace with its commanding views of the town to the old city and the city palace.
The most renowned sight is the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds), built in 1799 it is the epitome of Rajput artistry and was built so that the ladies of the royal household could watch the processions of the city whilst being hidden from view. The palaces had to be big, (one Maharaja was 2m tall, 1.2m wide and had 108 wives) with labyrinthine zenana (women’s quarters) where we spent a pleasant hour in pursuit of the exit.
But for me the most fascinating sight is the Jantar Mantar observatory. Built from 1728, precision could only be accomplished by via size – so the observatory is home to a bizarre collection of huge recording instruments, such as a sundial with a 27 meter gnomon and 12 Zodiac tracking devices, with Taurus being the nicest (surprisingly enough). But the trip to Jaipur was too short, and we took a train to Agra.

Agra
Agra has the Taj Mahal – so tourists will always flock there – as a result Agra does not need any other attractions, nice hotels, polite, articulate tour guides or nice people – and indeed it has none of these. Instead it has postcard sellers and rip-off shops selling crafts hand-made “by the decedents of the people who created the Taj” – possibly if they have moved to China. Agra is a pit. Even when we decided to splash out and stay in an up-market Holiday Inn we were disappointed with filthy sheets, a rusty bathroom and ugly wall decorations. We couldn’t wait to leave and join the happy little cockroaches on the train down to Varanasi. (to be continued…)