Brahma and the Bothersome Bus

Monday 21st April

- Brahma Temple, Pushkar
- the wheels on the bus go round and round
- back to Jaipur

a good night's sleep was disturbed only by the dodgy guy next door ringing our doorbell past midnight and shuffling around outside our door, but then he did fall asleep yesterday in a position in his room (door wide open) that made us seriously think he was actually dead, so perhaps he was a bit delirious from all his sunbathing. we packed - eventually, new purchases making this rather difficult - and checked out, although the ever-pleasant guest house staff let us leave our bags with them until the afternoon at no extra charge. it's been a pleasure staying at their cool, blue-washed haven and we'd gladly do so again.

we grabbed a phone halfway down the main bazaar. as expected, the Pearl Palace now had no availability, apparently, confirming our thoughts about their general service. the facilities at their hotel are excellent, but their booking policy indicates quite clearly that they know how popular they are and filter custom accordingly. we'd obviously failed to meet the required mark. although much more expensive, the reliable Diggi Palace confirmed an alternate booking, but we may also have somewhere additional around the corner from the Pearl for almost a quarter of the price of the Diggi, so we've kept our options open.

we walked to the end of the main bazaar, as Edd wanted to visit the Brahma Temple, one of the few in India so devoted, thanks to Savitri. difficulties with taking in bags meant that Edd went in first and, as it turned out, only. a young boy was keen to show him what to do and scampered ahead. after removing his shoes - how many times have we done that already in India? - Edd followed and watched the busy temple's devotees making their way up the steps, giving a blessing at the beginning of each group of steps and at the shrine half way up.

[Edd - at the top of the white marble stairs and through the portico gate, you see the striking orange and blue structure of the central shrine, surrounded by lesser shrines, with the floor and walls covered in stones celebrating named marriages and births, the majority in Hindi script.

the boy led me with my flower offering to the busy shrine, containing a four-headed image of the deity. i rang the main bell once and gave my flowers to the priest; he was about to do the next bit when his colleague objected to my presence. the boy and the first priest looked at each other and then at me with a little confusion, but it was clear that the second priest did not want me there. the boy eventually translated or me that he did not want any non-Hindus at the shrine. although not agreeing, the other three people involved decided not to press the matter. the boy, who spoke excellent English, instead led me to a shrine to Ganesh in one corner and actually led me through a prayer ceremony with flowers for my family, which i thought was extremely generous of him.

he had the beginnings of a few classic Indian tricks up his sleeve. he said that i needed to give another donation. i told him that i had already given my main donation at my Pushkar Puja, which covers the whole town. he corrected me and said that it does not apply to temples. not true, i said. who told you this?, he asked. the priest did, i replied. he paused for a moment and then said, 'yes, that is true.' had very little guile - in a few years' time, he'll be tricking them like the best.

snapping a few (permitted) photographs, i retraced my steps, pausing to place a coin in the hands of the Sadhu standing by the exit, one of the many who seem to inhabit the temple. he said a blessing as the coin fell into his hand and, from his general bearing and very careful analysis by touch of the donation, i realised that he was totally blind.

at the base of the stairs, the boy said that the fee for looking after my shoes was R10. i told him that it wasn't and that it was always R1 or R2 at best. he paused for a moment, smiled and said, 'yes, it is.' no guile. i gave him a good tip - he deserved it, and i am sure will have a bright - and prosperous - future.]

a quick hour's internetting and then it was back to - where else? - Om Shiva's for a brunch of fruit pancakes and mango shakes, sheltered from a still stronger sun. we stayed there for several hours, with no main sites to visit and the day too hot for extended bazaar browsing along the now empty street. in the bright sun, we could see the steep slope up to Savitri's Temple; implausibly, there still seemed to be distant specks of colour making their way up, even in this heat.

our noisy neighbour, the Vishnu Temple

we eventually picked up our bags from the guest house and walked the short distance around to our bus stand. we were half an hour early, so took the time to buy some drinks and sit in the shade, watching the inter-city state buses disgorge their tightly packed insides. the travel agency owner greeted us, said 'rest is best!' and promptly lay down and fell asleep.

perhaps we should have followed his lead, or he knew something we didn't. a relaxed impotency overcame us as time ticked by. we eventually found out that the bus was late. it eventually turned up over an hour tardy, with us to be the last two seated bookings. the remainder of the bus was on a day trip to Pushkar and Ajmer, comprising Hindus, and extended Sikh group, a girl from Croatia and her Indian make 'friend,' who spent the rest of the day chatting her up. apparently, their 'visit' to Pushkar had lasted only an hour and she was not best pleased. but then, she also said that she shouldn't have to bother greeting people or saying 'Namaste,' since she was only in India for two weeks, so we couldn't feel too sorry for her.

we should have asked her if they had already done Ajmer. as soon as we got there, we stopped to decant the group to see two sites, one temple and the city's famous mosque, one of the most important in India. but the group was going to be ferried to and from and around them both in another single hour, less than the average time we were spending at any single place, and we had not paid for the tours, so we stayed with the bus and its drivers for the wait, made easier as they were far more amenable and smiley than the last ones we'd had.

later that same day...

unfortunately, the group was away for more than 90 minutes, leaving us and the drivers kicking our heels at a local petrol station. as with all in India, it sold only petrol and oil, as did all the local environs, so we had to make do with what we had. in the slowly scrolling wait, we saw many vehicles come in and have countless tread-less tyres fixed and punctures repaired at a makeshift tyre shop shack next to the petrol station, where young boys seemed to do all of the main repair work. it was a very male-dominated environment. motorcycles, cars, a tractor and a camel pulling a cart on tyres all rolled up in front of us for speedy running repairs.

traffic, Ajmer style

when the bus finally moved off it was already beginning to get dark and we were already at the time when we should have been arriving back in Jaipur. but it would be over 3 1/2 hours later that we finally reached our destination, a long, frustrating and uncomfortable night-time journey enlivened only by the number of times we seemed to be all about to die, as full beam flashlights replaced horns on this very busy trucking route. the drivers repeatedly touted for business from locals needing lifts to Jaipur or on the way, slowing us down further and filling the bus past capacity. we stopped in the same place as on our outward journey for a comfort break, fortunately without the same plague of flies but unfortunately not without the - considering our mood - thoroughly tedious 'road tax' scam of adding costs to any purchases by foreigners. the stop's 'here or nothing' location making the only options 'drink or nothing,' since the highly extended and throat drying journey had us running low in supplies. all the journey needed now was a crying baby and our wishes were soon answered when the only child on board started up with gusto.

expecting to arrive in Jaipur between 6 and 7, we finally checked into our hotel at 10:30pm. this is India. the drivers still asked for the ever popular 'luggage tax,' although we were sorely tempted to ask then for money back! but on the plus side, our second option - the Sunder Palace, around the corner from the Pearl Palace - came through, ensuring only a short walk with packs through quite a mild night and a huge saving on the Diggi Palace, which we duly cancelled. with nice, big, cool rooms and more of a standard hotel feel, we grabbed a quick lime soda on the roof and then gave ourselves over to an overdue and wonderful shower, our feet literally black from the bus, our bags so hot they felt as if they had been in an oven. after three weeks it was the first real transport problems we'd had, and even then hardly a major disaster - an amazing ratio, on reflection. to a chorus of barking dogs somewhere nearby, a bed that did not bounce or judder and would make no additional stops called louder than anything else.

take care, all

edd & philippa

Climbing to Savitri

Sunday 20th April

- touring the lake
- the Savitri Temple

Gayitri's Temple (left) overlooking the North shore of Pushkar Lake.

a truly lousy night's sleep was the consequence of non-stop, tannoyed music from the Vishnu Temple next door, played at extraordinary volume from 9pm to 5am. we found out in the morning that it was essentially a wake for someone who had died. he must have accomplished a great deal in his life. the singer's voice was strong and powerful and cut through earplugs with ease. Phil also had some heatstroke issues, so all in all, it was a bit of a washout.

we were supposed to be off for the sunrise climb and view of Pushkar from the Savitri Temple, but there was no way that Phil was going to make it, since she'd had almost no sleep at all. instead, we went for an early morning walk around the much quieter South side of the lake and back along the main bazaar before the sun got too hot.

around Jaipur Ghat we were accosted by a 'priest' named Dharma into a celebration of tonight's full moon, which didn't auger well for a quiet evening's sleep! we explained that we had already enjoyed a Pushkar Puja, but he still went ahead with a ceremony that was a poor and distant cousin to that supplied by Nando. he even demanded an additional donation, which we had explained to him from the start that he wasn't going to get.

we walked across a bridge affording great views of the ghats clustered on the North shore. they were all busy, with a lot of holy men, beggars and locals giving thanks, washing or making their way to and from them.

the main bazaar in particular took on a more rush hour feel. before we arrived there, was passed another wedding procession, followed swiftly by a line of old women digging holes in the road with pickaxes under the sun. the men were, as usual, either undertaking the difficult task of manning shops or riding up and down the road on their motorbikes.

by the time we got back near our end of the bazaar it was fiercely hot. we grabbed a drink in what we think is the original Om Shiva, but it really wasn't much, so we went to the copycat again, which is cooler, has a far better location and a good menu. there was just time for a little clothes shopping before, with midday just past, the quietened streets indicated the onset of the hottest part of the day and we were driven back to our room in the guest house to escape. although we had no thermometer to confirm it, we would certainly believe that it's the hottest day we have had so far, but at least here in Rajasthan it's a dry heat. it was clearly not too hot for everyone, though - the large and decidedly odd-acting man in the adjacent room to us was actually sunbathing, which seemed to us like asking for trouble.

after several hours of hot and hazey pseudo-rest, we decided we'd have another crack at the Savitri Temple, at sunset rather than sunrise. after 5pm, the sun's strength was beginning to wane and we should have just enough time to get up the hill and back down again before it got dark.

we walked down the full length of the main bazaar in the fading but still very bright sunlight. the people we met were all smiles and greetings this evening and the atmosphere was more light hearted. it would be a full moon tonight and it was also monkey god Hanuman's birthday, so there was a celebratory air about the place. we felt bad about not having a pressie to give. we found the road to the Savitri Temple very easily and were soon outside of town on a sandy road to the base of the hill.

Savitri, a river goddess, was Brahma's second wife, having missed the astrologically-important timing of her planned marriage day by taking too long to get ready. Brahma had to marry someone at that time, but the only person available was Gayitri, from the untouchable caste, who was quickly purified by being passed through the mouth of a cow. like you do. narked, Savitri cursed Brahma so that he would only be worshipped at Pushkar. she also cursed Gayitri's caste, so that they can only gain liberation after death if their ashes are scattered in the Lake (as were Ghandi's, although we was not from this caste himself).

all of which helps to explain why Savitri's hill and temple is way higher than Gayitri's, as a placation to the goddess. she must still be pissed. pilgrims also always climb her hill first. having now done so, we were both really pleased that we were unable to attempt the climb in the morning. even in the fading sun it was quite an effort, the first third paved steps and the remainder rock step-like levels, becoming quite steep and the top. black-faced monkeys observed our travails with bemused interest. we became more and more elevated from Pushkar, the town progressively encircled by high, ridged hills, irrigated lands and dense scrub. from this distance, the lake seemed a tiny, small puddle, ringed with whitewashed buildings, each with its own indistinct reflection.

we passed many Hindus going both up and down and only a few Westerners. everyone was finding it really tough, while many of the Indian pilgrims were struggling up in unshod feet.

the red dots are Hindus ascending.

when we finally made it to the top, some 60 minutes or so later, the views were more than worth all of the effort, although we were both exhausted. almost stereotypically, a small and finely bearded old man, possibly a Sadhu, was sitting peacefully cross legged on a rock at the top. eyes twinkling, he acknowledged our arrival with a barely perceptible movement of the head and a face filled with good natured humour. either that or he was stoned.

Edd with sadhu leprechaun in his ear.

as we had read, the temple itself is a fairly shabby modern building, about which we're sure Savitri is not pleased. incongruously, the much older statue inside is ringed with flashing neon lights. far more preferable to drink in the massive vistas afforded by this matchless viewpoint before taking a slow and careful descent, sent on our way by another small nodding movement from the still otherwise motionless old man. aside from a few Hindi women making puja inside and the shrine keeper, our time at the top had been entirely silent and reflective.

well worth it.

the walk down was a slow and deliberate one, accompanied by chattering monkeys sitting in the tree branches and soundtracked by the incessant hurdy gurdy-like organ sound drifting up from a marriage procession somewhere in the village, which gave the descent a slightly hallucinatory, gameshow feeling. we only made it back into town as darkness was falling, tourist-laden camels at one point leading the way. very hot and sweaty due to our exertions, we bought some souvenirs for a change. one shop was full of old coin and shell jewellery and mirrored bags where we were the first customers. the boy running it blessed the room before dealing with the money. Philippa also picked up a lovely embroidered, mirrored hanging item from a stall we'd seen before, run by a Brahmin priest. we were also his first custom of the evening and he blessed the money we gave him.

the bazaar was busy with people, full of large numbers of cows and too many young men on fast motorbikes. another groom and wedding party went by, possibly the one we had heard on the hill, organ blaring out of loudspeakers, accompanied by drummers, wild dancing (men only) and a line either side of bright lights held by onlookers, all followed up by a van with a generator. a man was firing stones at monkeys scampering above food service areas with the aid of a catapult. elsewhere, people were celebrating Hanuman's birthday with their own events, music and colours.

surprisingly, we were Om Shiva's only customers, although it was only 8:20pm. it was at this time that we discovered the miracle of mixed fruit pancakes. we saw sunglasses man road up and down the narrow street below us on his pride and joy Royal Enfield numerous times; perhaps he had forgotten something. we walked the short distance home through the busy and boisterous but friendly streets. as the music from various sources crept into our courtyard, we ended a great evening sitting on our terrace while our legs recovered, very thankful indeed that we had not attempted the sunrise walk as originally planned. hopefully, Savitri would not be too disappointed.

hope this reaches all healthy and happy

edd & philippa {:-)

When Pushkar to Shove

Saturday 19th April

- the post office with no stamps and other exciting adventures!

another day, another wedding in Pushkar.

earplugged up, we had contrasting fortunes overnight. Edd managed 9 virtually unbroken hours of wonderful sleep, but Philippa was less fortunate, sleeping poorly and again unwell. we had the luxury of no fixed plans for the day, so we did not leave the room until closer to midday as Phil finally slept and recovered. she professed to be up for venturing out later, so we strode out to a particularly hot day in search of a post office to send off some postcards.

the post office allegedly around the corner proved to be invisible, so a prolonged search for the town's GPO was instigated. after much up and down and side to side we finally found it, although they had run out of stamps and had to send someone out to get them from somewhere. always good for a post office, running out of stamps. the entire GPO seemed to be run out of a tin box behind the desk, rather ramshackle and cobbled together but, like India itself, it just about seemed to work.

traffic, Puskhar style

we found the main bazaar again in about four minutes on the way back, of course. we had a bit of a browse, but it was now tiringly hot, so we cashed in a few more guest house room hours, allowing Phil to get some more sleep and energy.

Hindu temple - no cows allowed inside!

on the way back, the same young teenage boy who has approached Edd every time we've walked along it and pestered him for food or money was at it again. Edd was finding it very tiring and was upset when we got back. it's impossible to give to everyone, and one's good natured and kind hearted principles take a pounding when you are asked so many times every day. we had invested and were investing so much in the country. furthermore, how was one to tell which of all those who asked was 'more' in need than the other? was the young boy who runs along behind you and asks for 2 Rupees more deserving than the old woman who sits on a box with our arm outstretched? it was a quandary born of Western principals and living, but in India the reality of the situation can become quite overwhelming.

street scene, Pushkar

we spent the early evening strolling the bazaar under the rays of the dying sun. Edd bought a new, second pair of sunglasses from a man who was actually selling embroidered elephant and bird mobiles, but who also had an unadvertised sideline in eyewear we discovered after a chance discussion about his shades. twice in the evening the 'I've only got X Rupees on me' technique was used to good deal-closing effect. the streets seemed notably more relaxed than in the day. we also bumped into our Pushkar Puja water ceremony priest, Nandoo.

the bazaar is full of a lot more Westernised hippy stuff, but it's also got a good range of products of all types of Indian crafts, despite the more touristy angle. we had dinner - good and well priced - at Om Shiva down the road, where we'd earlier had a snack. we may try for a sunrise over Pushkar as seen from the Savitri Temple tomorrow, on the summit of a steep nearby hill reckoned to be an hour's climb.

the Savitri Temple (it's the one on the top of the hill)

today has been slow and relaxed, in keeping with making sure that Philippa was OK and that we didn't go mad in the burning sun. off season as we are, it's an easy place to relax.

best

edd & philippa

A postcard from Pushkar

Saturday 19th April

dear all

just a short note to apologise for all of you who are waiting to see some of our photos. we have not yet figured out how to transfer photos direct from the cameras to the blog, even though Edd has his instructions (!), and have not yet burned any to disc. apologies! we have taken some, really we have - Edd is almost on 1,000 images - but we may find it easier to put them on in a few batches, especially if we get them on CD first.

we are still in Pushkar, having a slower pace of life. it's getting really hot as we go further north and west, with Bikaner to come soon and then maybe Jaisalmer - which we know will be extremely hot by the time we get there. and we're still functioning with all of our limbs intact, although Edd's sunglasses have decided to fall apart.

our very best to anyone reading

edd & philippa

Pushkar Puja

Friday 18th April

- the road to Pushkar
- Pushkar Puja

we rose early after a fairly decent sleep, our 'air cooled' room using some form of fan with water beneath attached to the outside. it was certainly cooler than the AC in our other room, which we had struggled a little with previously. we breakfasted on honey toast, mango shakes and a grilled cheese and onion sandwich - cracking stuff, if not exactly Indian. the Pearl Palace is clearly aimed squarely at Westerners, with notes about its safely cleaned food, the dangers of befriending strangers and so on in its literature. Sikh owned, it has a degree of the same sense of brisk efficiency that we came across at Colonel Lamba's, although the main guy at reception seems to have wandered in from a more slippery, less salubrious establishment.

we checked out - still with no cast-iron guarantee of a room on Monday - and walked the short distance to where our bus would be departing. when we finally boarded, only the Westerners were demanded to pay a 'luggage fee,' another example of squeezing money out of tourists at every opportunity. one Indian-familied Israeli did not have to pay such a fee because he looked Indian and spoke Hindi. to dwell on such matters would be to entirely spoil any trip here, but the near constant scams and 'foreigner surcharges' can begin to wear you down if you let them get to you. a hugely tall young Swiss guy named Adrian was one of our neighbours. on his fourth month in India and South East Asia, he pointed out that, to a degree, such charges are fair as we have more money than the locals. perhaps it is the way in which it is done that can rankle - the scrawny, rangy guy 'loading' our bags into the boot-style luggage area was an abrupt character who we nicknamed 'Burglar Bill' for his appearance. it was all too easy to conclude that we were paying to ensure that our bags arrived at our destination with us.

turbaned farmers with the usual overloaded trailer.

the three hour or so journey took in a lot of wide, motorway-style highway, filled as ever with gaudily-fronted Tata brand trucks and passing hostelries named reassuring things such as 'Hotel Decent.' at one comfort break stop the driving staff had breakfast cooked on open griddles, but the sheer weight of flies would have probably put us off even if we had been hungry. another Western couple on our bus (who spoke to no-one else during the journey) were being very touchy feely with each other, which is pretty much out of bounds public behaviour in India, especially outside of the major cities. all of the cafe stop customers stared rigidly and balefully at them, but they were either totally ignorant or just didn't care about the cultural sensibilities that they were trampling on.

one family who got on at the middle of a road had no seats due to what must have been overbooking, and what a sight they were, resplendent in forms of traditional Rajasthani dress. the man had a huge gold tasselled stretched ear-ring in each ear and was wearing surely impractical velvet, curly-toe embroidered slipper shoes, with socks! his wife was extraordinary; although relatively finger ring-less, she was covered in jewellery. toe rings, frilled silver ankle bracelets, a silver girdle-style belt fringed with lots of silver tassel, a gold etched necklace plate, bracelets at either end of solid forearm and upper arm metal sections that were just like armour, with fine edging and detailing, as well as earrings, a huge nose ring linked to her left ear with chain, all topped off with additional pieces that rested against her forehead and hidden beneath a green veil or shawl-style translucent cloth covered in silver sequins. although their children were wearing the universal clothes of the poor, they would have made a great family photograph had permission be sought and approved, but their mahogany faces were hard and emotionless. the wife had to stand for most of the journey while the husband sat and chatted with the drivers.

we picked up more than our fair share of flies at the comfort stop and they stayed with us all the way to Pushkar. we passed through Ajmer near the end of the journey, a hugely important Islamic shrine town and worldwide centre of pilgrimage marooned in a mostly non-Islamic area. arriving in Pushkar via a steep up and down ridge road, we were to our surprise and suspicion all dropped off at the 'wrong' end of town, necessitating a kilometre walk along its main bazaar with our packs on. the accommodation touts in this auto-rickshaw less town were ready and waiting for us and so thick it would have been useful to have a stick with which to beat them off, and also appropriate, since some were needlessly aggressive.

we came upon the main bazaar (street) in the middle of a wedding procession, the apparent groom somewhat sombre looking and upon a white horse decorated with special saddle, bridle and wearing a beaded lattice around its neck.

the bazaar seemed to have a lot of Westerners browsing among its many stalls, one from every part of India along its whole length, apparently quite a change from years past. we found our Shyam Krishna Guest House just along from the Hindu-only Vishnu Temple. after the noise and madness of the main bazaar, this quiet courtyard of blue-washed former palace buildings was a real haven, the rooms basic, simple and clean - perfect. no mod cons, but R250 a night in total - that's about 2.75 pounds. the owner speaks little English and the check-in requires so much information that we would not have been surprised to see it also include inside leg measurement and first pet's name, but it is family run (they live in the central building), family friendly and a bit of an oasis.

we settled in briefly and then set out to find the location of our Monday departure bus - mercifully, it appears to be at our end of town.

apart from two wheeled forms of transport, the small town is peaceful compared to the cities in which we have so far stayed.

a typical Indian scene; man with horse, temple and ancient Ambassador car, which is one of the most common you will see on the roads.

main bazaar, Pushkar

lots of stalls and clearly Western-focused places, plus a lot of ceremonial daggers for sale. one isolated man seemed to be selling large buds of marijuana in plain view in the street, an odd and suspicious sight since it's illegal here just as much as anywhere else in India, unless you are a Sadhu. in fact, there were lots of orange and white-clad holy men here, too, seeking alms - and probably much else besides.

towers of dye for sale, Pushkar bazaar

the main reason everyone comes to Pushkar is its lake, surrounded by whitewashed temples and connected to the water by ghats, where offerings and prayers are made and ashes scattered (as were Ghandi's). Lord Brahma, the creator, is said to have made the desert magically fill with the lake and the entire pantheon of Hindu deities was once summoned here, all 900,000 of them. it's also one of the only Indian places with a temple to Brahma, strangely.

Pushkar - the lake and ghats, with the Savitri Temple on the hill in the background

all visitors foreign and Indian alike are encouraged to make Pushkar Puja, to worship with local Brahmin priests at one of the ghats, repeat prayers while scattering rose petals and make a donation that goes towards temple funds or for the dependent priest. as we were already being given rose petals by all and sundry, we thought we'd get it over with. we took the shortest route to the lake, which had been hidden from us by the buildings of the main bazaar. small and beautiful, it's mainly the North shore that is chock-full of white buildings and their attendant ghats, with people giving thanks, making offerings and ritually bathing all around. although we would not have picked him for a priest, more of a businessman, the richly throated Nandoo led us through the detailed and intricate ceremony, involving a lot of rose petals, chanting, rice and sugar offerings to Brahma (he has a sweet tooth like all Indians, it would seem) and prayers said for us and for our families.

the ghats at Pushkar

the blessing ceremony was quite spiritually moving and carried an emotional weight, regardless of one's personal predilections. it's the one and only time you are expected to go through the process on your visit, so sometimes you get - shall we say - interesting stories of previous donation amounts, as we did. but the amount you give was and should be of your choosing. at the conclusion of the ceremony on painfully hot stones (because no shoes are allowed on the ghats), a coloured (usually red) thread is tied around your wrist, indicating that you have made your one blessing and donation. since it was the same colour as the one we had got at Galta, we could potentially have not gone through the process at all! however, that would have meant missing out on the experience itself.

Edd and 'priest' Nandoo. they make priest at an early age in Puskhar, clearly.

we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in our new home and escaping the attentions of many of the town's excitable children. we also - well, Philippa mostly - did our best to save Edd's sunglasses, which disassembled themselves for no apparent reason earlier in the day. in the evening, we ate nearby as the earlier wedding hit full steam. this involved an enormous amount of noise, drumming, organ music and large fireworks being detonated very close to the ground.

we spoke to an outgoing Western man at dinner on his fourth but final Indian trip. he spoke about how the country had changed and how it was more money-grabbing and Disnified in terms of its culture, about how everything was now set up to try and be like the West. we agreed with a lot of what he was saying but found him relentlessly negative about India. Hinduism and the people in this huge country. he even went as far to say that the guidebooks were deliberately out to make it sound better than it was and the friends of ours who had been many times and had differing views from his must be at least mistaken, if not lying. we have found aspects of our trip so far trying and irritating, certainly, but it was difficult to agree with his downbeat sentiments. perhaps if we had been to India previously, and not recently, we might have found more with which to agree.

we went home and to bed, with Phil feeling tired and not altogether well. the sound of the drums and fireworks hardly lulled us to sleep, but it did provide a heady aural backdrop on which to reflect on the day's diverging viewpoints and experiences. it is very easy to be cynical and see everyone in India as being out for your money. it is also easy to see the good nature of so many of the people we had met. clearly both Indias exist side by side. there was much to think about, for sure, but our abiding memory of the day was watching rose petals drifting on the surface of the water.

love

edd & philippa