The Taj some Twitching and a Jaipur Dewali

The overnight journey, spent on one of the upper bunks in coach S3 was very pleasant, being rocked to sleep under 3 fans which make a/c at night an unnecessary luxury, and arriving a mere hour late into Agra Fort station. We found our hotel right by the south gate of the famous Taj Mahal, the roof views were as promised though the rest of the building was grubby with surely staff...fine for 1 night. We walked the 100 yards to the entrance and found ourselves face to face with arguably the worlds most iconic building. It was spectacular! The marble gleaming soft impressions of blue to white to gold and the walkways full of excited tourists, colourful Indians and babbling school children. We spent several hours in the buildings presence, admiring its elegance from all angles as well as exploring the two flanking buildings which are sites in their own right. An autorickshaw sped us to Agra's other principle site, the red fort, where we were greeted with the red stone, yet more gleaming marble and superb views of the Taj and adjacent river. The mosque to the north and its associated bazaar were frenetic, the streets gridlocked with pedestrians, but refreshingly hassle free and providing a good lunch break. An early start and another rickshaw hired meant that we could watch the sunrise light up the marble domes from the opposite side of the river, accompanied only by a soldier and young litter of street dogs.

Our early departure from Nepal meant that we had a couple of "spare" days in hand and so the next port of call was Bharatpur, arriving on the bus mid-morning before then retracing our steps by half an hour to see the old ruined city of Fatepur Sikri. We could not avoid a guide for the mosque and its giant entrance gate and marble shrine, and then spent a quiet 2 hours ambling through the empty stone buildings of the royal residence. Definitely not a must see as the guide book had suggested but worth popping into if you happen to have an afternoon free and are in the area! Now the main draw of Baratpur is the national park that is home to rare wetland habitat that draws thousands of migrating birds. This is all well and good but we found out at the guesthouse that there was little of either, that is wetland or birds. The monsoon has been awful for several years now resulting in the conversion of lakes into puddles and the knock-on effect is that the birds have decided to give the place a miss. Still, we had come all this way and so decided that for 6 quid each we really could afford a cycle rickshaw and guide to take us round for 4 hours in the morning (bikes are not currently allowed as the authorities have fallen out with the hire companies!). Eager to see what was on offer I grabbed my bag off the bed to go and watched in horror as my camera performed a perfect pirouette with backward somersault before crashing to the floor, and no there was not a shag pile carpet to cushion the impact. With the lens wobbling on the body and little sign of life you will just have to take my word for it that there were a few birds, though in groups of ones and twos rather than hundreds, the guide and rickshaw wallah did a great job pointing everything out for us, we must have seen at least 25 different avian species and a few mammals to boot including kingfishers, egrets, eagles, parakeets, stalks, woodpeckers, antelope and boar. Again it was not a spectacular as it may have been but we had an excellent morning and it was a relief to escape the bustle of city life for the countryside. We did wonder around the town itself, the streets were bustling with last minute shoppers preparing for the upcoming Dewali festival (think Christmas and New Year rolled into one) with tinsel and twinkling lights strung between the pylons. High spirits were the order of the day with no hassle and plenty of hellos.

A 4 hour bus took us to Jaipur, the southwest point of the "Golden Triangle", the Pink city, and our final stop before starting work in Pushkar. First impressions for me were indifference, apart that is from the amazing guesthouse that we found ourselves in. At the Pearl Palace we felt in luxury at a budget price and a rival to the Jade Emu in Dali and the Outside Inn in Yangshou. Our evening wonder revealed an old city that was more a peach than pink and the buildings we saw nothing spectacular. Amy had a more favourable impression but this is my blog so indifferent it is! What we did find though was a little back street electrical repair shop. I had found that the lens mount of the camera body had come loose with a few screws to tighten. As feared these had threaded and could not be simply tightened but what The repair hero did after putting aside the DVD player he had been fixing was to somehow still secure everything in place so that any movement was tiny. The lens now does not focus 1 in every 10 shots and I am sure the fix will come undone at some stage but at least I do not have to fork out for an upgrade and am back in the land of photography, phew! Our one full day in town and we booked ourselves onto the exhausting 9 hour RTDC coach tour of the local sights, the 5 hour half day we had our eye on was not running. We must have gone to about 9 different forts and temples with 2 separate shop stops thrown in for free. I did not feel there was any absolute standout though Amber fort was impressive but having seen it at the end of the day fatigue had set in. The observatory was also a good distraction with the worlds largest sundial accurate to 2 seconds alongside assorted other contraptions to tell star sign, hemisphere of the sun, month and day. The actual highlight of Jaipur came in the evening when, nestled on the rooftop patio of our guesthouse, we were treated to a megatons worth of fireworks set above the illuminated city center. These continued well into the early hours, earplugs (travel essentials!) ensuring a good nights sleep.

Cremation on the Ganges

We had chosen a family run guest house right by Assi ghat, the southernmost set of stone steps leading into the river Ganges. For the entire taxi ride, sat in a rusty old Ambassador and weaving between rickshaws, we were being told how dirty and quiet our choice was but how fortunately our very friendly co-driver knew an excellent place we could stay. They seemed perplexed when we insisted on our intended destination and thankfully we had an incredibly friendly welcome which was much needed after our previous 24 hours. What this welcome also meant was that while we were checking in, the father of the house got rather excited by the fact that our surnames were the same, with tradition dictating that a wife takes her husbands name the same in India. This simple detail prompted a long discussion regarding the sanctity of marriage, the difference in Indian and Western courting customs and accepted practice and the caste system as a whole. It was very interesting but all we wanted was a shower after 29 hours sat on some form of transport. We left it until the evening before braving the walk along the river, collapsing for most of the remaining hours of daylight, having heard of the nightly fire ceremony downstream at the main ghat. I have to admit to a twinge of disappointment initially as the riverbank, the supposed center of city life, appeared near enough deserted. This may have had something to do with the complete lack of lighting and this disappointment soon turned to fascination when we came across the diplomatically named "Small Burning Ghat". The small fires were not there to provide warmth but rather contained corpses at varying stages of cremation, the wrapped body (red for a woman, white for a man) clearly visible in some, being licked by flames. A procession arrived soon after us, the male relatives carrying a simple stretcher on their shoulders supporting the deceased draped in ornate fabrics. No women were present which we later learnt was due to the habit of jumping onto the pyre to join their husband or son. After arriving the procession moved into the water, the holy Ganges washing any sin from the corpse, and then placed the stretcher by the waiting pyre and uncovering the face of their relative. At this point the body appeared to be left, ignored for around 5 minutes though I did not watch whet the living were doing. After being placed on the wooden platform the entire body, save a loin cloth, was exposed to allow a final blessing or offering of oil and dyes. The entire affair is orchestrated by members of the "untouchable" caste, the lowest of all, whose responsibility it is to construct the pyres and manage the burning. We also learnt that anyone not able to afford the wood for the cremation may use leftovers from others or be content with the much cheaper government electric cremation service which is however very much frowned upon. It is possible that death is the final major taboo in western society, hidden as it is from everyday life. Watching the process in the gloaming on the banks of such a mighty river felt incredibly voyeuristic, uncomfortable and intrusive yet at the same time was fascinating and difficult to drag your eyes away from the events as they unfolded. What would be an intensely private affair back home was very much an everyday spectacle here and we were not given a second glance. This final stage in a persons life is only one part of a bigger picture in Varanasi, a city where death is ever present. Not only does the Gange purify the soul (a great irony given the level of pollution including excrement and ridiculously high levels of heavy metals), it is also believed that anyone who dies in Varanasi immediately gains enlightenment and therefor escapes the cycle of rebirth. What this means in practice is that many of the countries elderly travel great distances to live out their final days on the streets or in shelters simply waiting for death. After all this the fire ceremony was lively, loud and very busy with hordes of tourists and the devout crowding the banks and river itself in wooden row boats of all sizes.

A much needed lie-in was the order for the first morning and so fully rejuvenated we again wondered along the slightly busier ghats and into the maze of alleys that make up the labyrinthine old town. Needless to say we did not find the temples and mosque that were marked on the map but are banned to foreigners anyway. We retreated from the heat of the day before meandering to the nearby monkey temple and 2 others whose name I forget. After the beauty of the Buddhist monasteries the Hindu buildings of worship are rather plain but interesting places for people watching being very much sites of active daily worship. Ignoring the complaints of the shoe keepers for not giving 10 rupees/pair we failed to avoid getting ourselves "dotted" on the forehead with red dye. A trip to Varanasi is not complete without a morning boat trip to view the glorious sunrise illuminating the ghats and the thousands of locals in golden light. The swarming masses were busy washing body, teeth and clothes, praying silently while cupping the sacred water, cleansing the spirit with repeat submersion (the women fully clothed, the med in loin clothes); and all this accompanied by general chit-chat, news and rumour gathering. It is during the cooler hours of morning and preceeding sunset that the river is at its most lively with the 2 hours flying by. Amy decided to spend the rest of the day at the guesthouse, having broken her longest illness-free period since arriving in Beijing, and so I took myself off to the holy site of Sarnath, the location of Buddas first teaching. Hiring a rickshaw for the round trip I found myself racing along the streets to an Indian Bollywood soundtrack, my boy-racer driver having installed a large speaker on the back shelf. While the ruins were pleasant enough with only a single large stupa still standing, of more interest was the Jain temple and the desciple there who was more than happy to sit and explain the nature of the religion with its naked gurus who sweep the way before every step and never wash so as not to kill even the smallest bacteria. Having more or less recovered by the following morning Amy and I were both set for the overnight train to Agra which allowed the day for relaxation and getting lost in the streets adjacent to the river.

Border Towns, Crooks and Transport

A 9 hour bus journey took us to the border with India, which we crossed in rickshaw without any problem. A little bit on the tired side and guards down we were then sitting ducks. After buying our bus ticket for the onward leg we then took up the offer of booking tickets the night train to Varanasi from Gorakpur. Looking back, we probably ended up paying 4 times more than needed but we only twigged after the money had changed hands and from that point there was no going back even though it then took someone 15 minutes to arrive with the printed e-ticket. We were then followed onto the bus by a nasty piece of work who demanded an extra extortionate government and baggage fee and became very aggressive when we refused, continually pushing me and jabbing at my arm. Quite how he would have carried out any of the threats, including keeping our luggage, I don't know but with the driver and a bus full of locals looking on passively it was easier to pay what amounted to around 10 quid than risk any escalation. The bus journey was then spent fuming at both the thieving robbing bastards but also at myself for getting drawn in to what was an eminently avoidable situation. Still, it was our first incident to date and you have to be prepared to take the rough with the smooth, especially when any monetary loss is fairly insignificant (though a little goes a very long way). It also did little to lessen my general hatred of border towns. Arriving at Gorakpur station we thankfully found out that our ticket was valid (otherwise would have added insult to injury) and after a tasty local thali we proceeded to wait for 3 hours on the platform, insects swarming around every light making it anything but pleasant. The train, 2nd class sleeper, was surprisingly pleasant allowing a much needed sleep after traveling for 18 hour though it was delayed by an hour before leaving and then arrived the following morning 4 hours late in what should have been a 7 hour journey. We had however arrived in Varanasi.

Welcome to the Jungle

For our final final day in Kathmandu we washed our trekking clothes (much needed) and headed to see the Monkey Temple which provided nice views over the city with the resident monkeys providing additional entertainment. I could then put off my first hair cut no longer and was ushered into the most narrow booth imaginable by the elderly barber. Brandishing the largest pair of metal shears the city could provide he proceeded to lop off handfuls of hair. I started to worry when halfway through he reached for a pair of glasses but after the cut-throat razor had tidied up the edges I emerged both looking smarter and unscathed! The tourist bus that took us to Chitwan National Park was a much more comfortable affair and after avoiding the elephants lumbering down the street we booked our activities for the following couple of days. We were up early to start a day and a half jungle walk, accompanied by 2 guides each armed with trusty bits of hardened bamboo. A dug out canoe took us down river for an hour before dropping us off. We were given a safety briefing: "If rhino climb tree at least 7 foot or hide behind. If no tree then run zig-zag very fast. If bear no climb tree or run. Get in big group and make much noise and shouting. If tiger, get in big group, stare in eyes, slowly back away, say "Namaste" and continue walk". After such an inspiring introduction we were quite happy not to see anything larger than an insect for the first few hours. After 4 hours fighting our way through 20 foot elephant grass we emerged by the river to see a crocodile, the bizarre looking Gharial, and get a chance to remove some of the many leaches. I ended up with 10 in total com paired to Amy's none! Our first "proper" animal spotted and we were on a role coming across a 1 horned Indian Rhino cooling down in a small stream, a troupe of Langur monkeys swinging in the treetops and then breaking for lunch in a spotting tower. It was here that we were privileged to see 3 more rhinos, including one of around 18 months, grazing on the long grass. We were able to creep up fairly close to appreciate the size of these prehistoric animals, made even more exciting by being on foot. The rest of the walk was more of the same with dense jungle vegetation interspersed with regular sightings of monkey, deer and a plethora of bird life to give us a fantastic experience. Our final stop was at the elephant breeding centre whose current main draw is the 11 month old twins, only the 4th known to be born, which certainly seemed to be double the trouble. The afternoon of our return we took to elephant back for a two hour amble through the forest where we were able to get unbelievably close to more rhino and deer, all animals ignoring our presence, though it did not have quite the excitement of walking. Our 3rd and final day in the area was spent relaxing, but not before we joined in with the daily elephant bathing. This mostly involved sitting on its back while being hosed with trunk-fulls of wonderfully cool river water on voice command of the trainer. We had intended to do a 4 day beginner kayaking course in Pokara but having got the bus there the heavens promptly opened, giving us our first full days rain since we left the UK, the rivers rose and it was decided that the rivers had become a bit too wild to run the course. Rather than stick around, we headed for India to give us a few extra days before starting work in Pushkar.

Langtang Trekking

After a bit of an ordeal finding our bus we still managed to get seats and then commenced the most uncomfortable journey in memory. For 9 hours, with knees jammed tight against the chair in-front, we were thrown around, jolted and jarred as a result of the incredibly twisty roads that in places were no more than what would be 4x4 tracks back home. Surviving all this along with the plummeting drops we escaped with no more than incredibly bruised knees and behinds finally arriving at the trail head of Sebrabessi. My first ever Dal Bhaat went down very well indeed. A simple dish of rice, dal, veg curry and pickle became our main diet for the following 6 days, though what I failed to realise at first was that having wolfed down my first plate every dish was then replenished and not wanting to be rude this was promptly finished too. our first day on the Langtang trail involved a pleasant tramp through lush woodland, following a raging river, which we appreciated all the more for travelling light with our packs being at most 30 liters. As light was provided that night by a dim, battery operated bulb we turned in at 8pm and the following day we made it to the last settlement, cutting a day off the walk up and providing us with extra time at the top among the big peaks. that day itself was long with cloud obscuring any view but we had a few interesting encounters with local villagers and Amy painted a sign for a family starting a new tea shop. Day 3 and our porridge ordered the night before was ready at 6:30 on the dot and so we by 7am we were out and walking up the valley. Our goal was a place called Langshesha Kaka and after leaving the weather cleared to provide the most glorious walk through grass plains, across crystal clear melt water streams all with the backdrop of deep blue skies and towering snow-capped peaks. 4 hour later, and with no company other than the grazing yak and several horses, we arrived at our destination which was the most amazing setting for a sit down with a (rather small) cheese sandwich. We did not tire of the view on the way back either but after walking for 8 hours, covering 25 km at over 4000m we were rather tired! We were up and off 15 minutes earlier the following day, aiming for a peak of 4773m just behind Kyanjin Gompa though we lost the path fairly early (possibly straight away) and ended up heading straight up a grass slope of at least 50 degrees, often involving some rather exciting scrambling. Still, with hearts in mouths we made the top of a smaller peak and were then able to skirt around a horse-shoe ridge to reach the proper high point. We were rewarded with sweeping vistas of the mountains near and far and were especially close to a couple of retreating glaciers. The difference in elevation from the start of the trail was 3313m and this summit represented the highest I had ever walked to (driving to 5150m at Everest base camp is the highest ever point). From the top we started the descent, taking 3 days rather than rushing to do it in 2. The cloud did lift for us on the way down so we saw views that had previously been hidden and for the final day we took the alternative high path which was not only more interesting but also provided more wildlife. We were fortunate enough to spot a large troop of Rhesus Macaques, the large male sitting in the open feeding while the younger members frolicked in the trees and undergrowth nearby. Amy also spotted a brown bear having heard some rustling in the undergrowth nearby, as it came closer both parties ended up running in opposite directions while I was in front oblivious. The journey back to the capitol was no better for although there was slightly more leg room it appeared that half of Nepal was on the move with every available inch of room taken up both inside the isle and on the roof of the bus. Still we survived and headed straight out for a steak after spending a week of enforced vegetarianism.

Welcome to Kathmandu

From the moment we crossed that line on the bridge and entered Nepal everything changed. Gone was the ordered formal nature of the Chinese post a mere 30 feet away. This instead was replaced with chaos, possibly ordered chaos but that was not immediately apparent. We bought our visas in a small hut having convinced ourselves that having walked down an entire street of shops and grotty canteens that we must have somehow skipped any formalities. The smallest sign gave the game away and so $40 and 1 temperature reading later (swine flu is obviously still felt a possible threat) we had visas and were off. The buses and trucks had developed a technicolour array of designs with slogans such as "Speed Control", "Say no to drugs - Say yes to life" and "Press Horn". Faces had almost instantly darkened and rather than round had become much longer, combined with the bright clothing the feeling was definitely more of the subcontinent and India rather than the Tibetan Plateau and north-east Asia. It was dirty, hot rowdy and exciting though the border town crooks were still present, latching on like limpets to us the moment we stepped across. The tourist bus was too expensive and so after 4 hours of winding dirt roads, picking up and depositing people and their produce at the tiny settlements along the way, we changed onto another bus for another 4 hours to arrive, eventually, in Kathmandu. We had opted for a quieter district, though barely a 5 minute walk from the main backpacker haunt of Thammel, and after checking in headed out into the oasis of western restaurants and bars. Combined with all of the English signs and no problems with language it felt like being back at home, a bit. Unfortunately that night failed to provide the rest needed with the bed turning out to be the smallest in the world at around 5 1/2 foot with a massive foot-board making stretching out impossible. We moved up the road in the morning and confronted our day of jobs, backing up photos, emailing, researching our options for trekking and rafting and other such delights. Amy also had an appointment with the dentist at 2:30 (which she did not see the funny side of) as her wisdom tooth had been causing problems for the preceding week. I saw her a couple of hours later, mouth all numb, with the US dentist having removed the offending tooth. She then had to endure the sight of me eating steak and chips while sticking to tomato soup herself. Our last day before hitting the trails to the north meant that we had to get our permits and bus ticket before we could actually get around to seeing some of the city itself. We roamed the local streets before arriving at Durbar Square, a place Mum had mentioned the previous night on the phone she had been during her travelling days (I wont say when!). Apart from the traffic now racing through I cant imagine much has changed with daily life carrying on seemingly oblivious to the ancient monuments, statues and altars at every turn. The bustle was immense and the feel was definitely of an ancient culture living in the present.. We indulged ourselves in 1 last western meal before hitting the hills of Langtang the following morning at a bleary-eyed 6am.

China - Final Thoughts

As with Mongolia I feel it is only right to put down some of my overall thoughts on China so as to clarify things in my own mind. Although I may not have realised it before, I think that I arrived in Beijing with many preconceptions about the country and its people largely based I imagine on the known human rights abuses, the whole subject of Tibet and the general negative press the country receives (or certainly used to get). I would not go so far as to say that all these preconceptions were proved wrong, far from it in fact, but in all I was pleasantly surprised especially with the general man-on-the-street (or in the paddy field!). Far from being rude and unhelpful, shoving and spitting, suspicious and grumpy; almost without exception we were greeted with smiling faces of people who were more than willing to help if needed or just to show interest in our travels so far. This ranged from waitresses patiently trying to understand any request that could not be made by simply pointing, people ensuring we got on the right bus and our luggage was securely stowed to hostel staff checking time and again we had all the information we needed. Amy's efforts at Mandarin really paid off as time and again a few words of conversation broke the ice or elicited a smile making the interaction and experience that much more rewarding. Getting around was also not the logistical or bureaucratic nightmare feared with an excellent infrastructure that was easy to navigate. The sights that we sought out were generally more than worth the effort, both man-made and natural, often exceeding any expectations. The one factor here however was the shear number of domestic tourists that poured through the gates having been delivered by the many tour buses. China's middle class population is growing larger and they appear eager to discover their countries history and all it has to offer. While we would happily go back to many places (most notably Yangshou, north Yunnan and Tibet）we also missed so much from the tea houses of Sichuan, the old silk road, the Muslim north-west, the bright lights of the east coast and Hong Kong to the pandas and the holy peaks. It is one big country!

From a purely observational standpoint the modernisation and development of China that we saw was fascinating. The big cities house financial and business districts of high-rise skylines and shopping centers so familiar in the developed west yet on the other hand more people travel using 2 wheels under their own power than by 4. Tiny shops and street stalls rule over any attempt at supermarkets and the ancient residential areas have, for the moment, survived demolition and modernisation. Such contrasts appear everywhere: a "communist" leadership ruling a population enthusiastically embracing consumerism with more than one person we spoke to openly critical of the ruling elite, the most upmarket cars crawling alongside rickshaws and hand-pushed carts, swanky restaurants with uniformed staff alongside hole-in-the-wall snack stalls and filthy canteens, mobile phone wielding youth alongside their parents in traditional dress.

It is hard however not to have all thoughts of China tarnished by what we saw and heard in Tibet. It is important to remember that the actions of a dictatorship power may not reflect the true feelings and desires of the population as a whole but when faced with streets full of fresh-faced Han Chinese soldiers and such obvious resentment expressed by the indigenous peoples it is a difficult concept to always keep in mind. Businesses appear for the most part to be Chinese owned, restrictions on the Tibetan way of life appear significant with penalties severe and more than one Tibetan we spoke to expressed the sentiment that times were scary. We even encountered one old lady who openly and enthusiastically expressed her gratitude to us for employing a Tibetan guide, all this in front of passing soldiers (though I doubt they speak a word of Tibetan). I will admit that we arrived with a biased view and any encounters were bound to result in a further polarisation as we did not seek out any Chinese viewpoints. I am sure the majority of Chinese in Tibet moved simply for a better life for themselves and their family and I imagine that there has been a significant improvement in infrastructure and services such as education and health but these alone do little to justify the so-called "peaceful liberation" and continuing occupation. The issues are complex and I would not claim to understand even a fraction. As for solutions, I imagine it will become increasingly difficult for the Peoples Republic of China to maintain the status quo as they become increasingly involved on the world stage. I hope one day we will have an opportunity to return to the Tibetan Plateau without any restrictions and once independence has been achieved.

It is an interesting time for China and although our stay was relatively brief and travels could hardly be classed as extensive some interesting questions were thrown up none-the-less. Who knows what the future will hold but whether it be success, failure or collapse it is likely that we will all be affected.