Reflections

At the end of my tour and after a much welcomed few days relaxing I have travel time to reflect on my time since I left home. 

I am starting this having just boarded a plane to Mumbai on the way to Varanasi - “my” part of the trip. 

After leaving a very sterile, spotless, streamlined Singapore I entered a organised arrivals hall in Delhi. How quiet it was. 

Then I left the arrivals area and got my first taste of chaos that I sort of expected. T.I.I. This Is India. 

Loud, crazy and colourful. 

Cab wasn’t there, hotel was gross but I was here. 

Joining the tour was a good idea but because it was so full on I didn’t get to do a lot of the things I enjoyed until the last part of the trip and they are the days I enjoyed the most. 

India changed as we went south. 

Delhi slums gave me an insight as to how the less fortunate lived so close to the villas of the rich but much of it was dirty, grimy, ramshackle. People dressed traditionally; women in saris or salwar kamiz and beautifully groomed. I wasn’t keen on it at the time but I think with a few days to find my feet it could be much better. 

Rajasthan was not as colourful as I thought I would find but the food was great. Visiting peoples homes and having a bindi placed on our forehead was kind of cool even though they are usually only worn by married women and none of us were. The toot, toot was ever pervasive but not with the intensity of the tooting in Delhi. Streets were cleaner, people didn’t look so down and out, Sari’s were fewer. 

And then came Mumbai- you love it or hate it. I fell into the love camp and maybe that was because eventually I had a whole day to myself and enjoyed the exploring. Traffic was nuts, people were nice and dressed less traditionally. 

Goa was different. Probably the best place to chill at. The small bit I saw left me a bit cold. The craziness had mainly gone, the signs were all in english, the restaurants sold food from all over and to me it looked like an international beach resort where some rather seedy pale skins hang out without any respect for the culture of the country they are in. Corny casinos and cruise ships docked in the harbour did nothing to change my feelings. It wasn’t India for me. 

Im on my way to Varanasi seated in an aisle seat where I like to be but no worries on these planes as there is heaps of leg room. The window seat has been allocated to a mother and tiny baby and babe is feeding as I arrived. Next comes a guy allocated to the middle seat. Im not sure if he felt uncomfortable next to a feeding mum or what but he suggested we swap seats. Suits me. I can sit next to a wee baby. 

I would have like to spend more time just sitting on the ghats of Varanasi watching the worshippers doing their daily rituals but the thought of another crazy ride to/from the city was too much for me to contemplate. 

I was intrigued by all the traditions and the blinding faith that makes people  bathe in water that has had human ashes, human and animal bodies and millions of people in it. Crazy. 

Just as intriguing is how high the water goes during the monsoon season. The ghats where I had been  walking get completely immersed and then some, so the river also swallows up all the detritus and filth that sits on shore now. 

Kolkata was a different story. Grand mansions, squalid slums, super highways, traffic lights that work and pointsmen directing traffic. The majestic remnants of the East India Company stood next to run down shabby buildings. The pace was slower and the tooting less. Parks and green space abound, there are art installations everywhere, local markets next to western style malls and food stalls everywhere. The one city I would love to go back to. 
Another few blogs follow summing up how I really felt. So read on.