Maybe it wasn’t an obvious choice of first destination for a couple of first time travellers who like their home comforts, but actually Kolkata was not the terrifying culture shock people warned us about. Yes, we walked out of the airport to find a road made virtually uncrossable by unpredictable yellow taxis; we took said taxi in a seat-clutching ride across town seeing people cycling with boxes of chillies on their heads and live chickens tied to their handlebars; we were greeted in the streets by mothers begging for milk powder and packs of yellow dogs and men sleeping on the pavements. Yes, it was a million miles away, but amid this melee of people and smells and confusion, we found a city of incredibly beautiful buildings and parks, some of the best street food of the trip, and so many smiling faces: a girl who taught us Indian classical dancing in the Victoria Memorial gardens, a couple of street kids who we shared a lassi with, parents and children shaking ours hands at a Kali festival we happened to catch.
It wasn’t just that Kolkata allowed us to jump into another culture headfirst, it also allowed us to meet other travellers, get advice, make plans. There is definitely a district for travellers, and lucky for us, most of them had been around for a while. Trains were all explained, haggling (although we never really mastered that), the head wobble. We ended up travelling with a guy we met on the first day for three weeks. Really (and I hate to admit it) it does help to have a man around in India. They just get more respect. Annoying but true.
From Kolkata it was an overnight train to Darjeeling. The trains are really something. The queues for the tickets are utterly bewildering, but as long as you stand your ground as aggressively as everyone else pushes it shouldn’t take too long! The train itself is the best place to meet people. There’s always one man who takes charge of the conversation. Warning- he is usually the one that snores the loudest. You can buy everything under the sun. On that first train journey we counted 33 items that you could purchase, including yo-yo, statues of Ganesh, and nail clippers.
From the train, a bumpy jeep took us to Darjeeling. The views over the Himalayas were just breath-taking. The walk up to our hostel (Tranquillity Hotel-highly recommended) was tough but worth it. It was on the edge of town, so country walks to a hillside monastery were easy, and we were out of the noise and smell of the town. Fresh mountain air is a thing of the past in this town because of all the tourist jeeps . There is plenty to see though: a walk to the monkey temple to see the Tibetan prayer flags, the tea plantations- Happy Valley is the closest and you can have a tour of the factory, the toy train, or a small hike in the foothills.
And then it was on to Varanasi. A brief stop in Patna(don’t go there…especially on a Monday when everything is shut) was notable only by the giant bats we saw in the trees. A first for us, and a very beautiful first at that.
Varanasi, however, was a highlight. We were there in time for a festival where tiny candles were lit all along the Ganges, there were fireworks, and famous musicians, and paintings on the pavements. It was just magical.
But then, I think the holiest city in Hinduism is fairly magical all the time, even if it is the city of death. We learnt a lot about this religion here. It was unavoidable. Some things we saw were very beautiful (the lights and colour and sheer exuberance), some were ugly. This is a city where the caste system is still king.
You can go and see the ghats where the bodies are burned and given to the river, but I’d recommend seeing it from the river. And tell the boatman not to let a priest on board, not unless you want to give Rs500 or so as a wood donation.
There are many other things to learn though. Music lesson were our choice. A couple of days of sitar made our fingers numb. It was so worth it for such enchanting sound. That instrument made even my clumsy attempt sound just delicious. The drum lessons were fun too. Need a good ear for rhythm though.
We loved this city so much we extended our stay. But the road called and it was on to a new place, and a new faith. But that’s for the next blog.
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Author: Jess Williams