Monday, 24 December 2012

Tuesday 25th December


Tuesday 25th December

Christmas Day.  And yes I wish everyone all the best – much love, good cheer, a happy holiday season.

Pete and I are about to embark on four separate and cheerful family celebrations – two today, one tomorrow, one the next day… We are looking forward to each and every one of them; so lucky we are to have large families full of people who actually want to be with us…

Michael (No. #4 offspring, No. #1 son of mine) has arrived back from Townsville, to the unbounded joy of the four nieces and nephew who have seen him so far.   They were just about hysterical by the time we left their house yesterday; Michael has unbounded energy for wrestling, chasing, hurling small girls into beanbags.  Katy has tentatively suggested that he might like to come early today and watch Star Wars with Leo while the girls rest before the rest of the family arrives.  Good thinking!

India #51

Varanasi is a long way across India.  It was a very long train trip from Jabalpur and we were once again hollow-eyed ghouls when we were decanted in the holy city once known as Benares.  It was very early in the morning, fortunately, so the complete chaos of Varansi traffic was not yet unleashed upon us.  Our taxi driver took us to various hotels.  Mary and I stayed seated while Pete and Vish skirted cowpoos and went up and down stairs until they settled upon the Hotel Buddha.  I’m not sure how they made their choice, but it was a very good one, because it was a tiny oasis of green in a very dirty busy city.  There was a small park just outside, with some trees, and the hotel itself was quite cool and restful, with an internet computer.  (It was only 500 rupees per room, ie about $16!!)  They didn’t have rooms ready for us, and led us to a four-bed dorm so that we had somewhere to get clean before venturing out.  Vish, who had not slept on the train was in total denial about any sort of tiredness – “Magic!” He kept saying, looking all bright eyed.  Hmmm… Pete and I went into the bathroom to cope with yet another weird version of plumbing – don’t ask.  We managed to have showers and wash our clothes, and then emerged into the dorm to find not only Weary Mary but also Energetic Vish totally passed out face-down on two of the beds!

Eventually we gathered in the dining room and had scrumbled eggs, very delicious, before going out to explore Varanasi.  I have notes on two consecutive pages in my Jumbo Book.  Both lots of notes say: Varanasi – dirty noisy crowded, big cows and big poos.  Mary very sensibly elected to stay in the nice cool Buddha to read and relax, while I set off with Vish and Pete to walk through the chaotic streets to the railway station so we could book our tickets through to Delhi.  It was extremely hot, dusty, smelly.  The railway station was equally hot, noisy, smelly, but the Foreign Tourist Booking Office, roped off from the general public, was a little haven, all air-conditioned with comfy chairs.  It was jam-packed with backpackers gratefully breathing the cool air.  I sat back and observed it all; Vish and Pete were much better at negotiating complicated ticket arrangements.  Outside I could see sad hot locals, locked outside.  They didn’t look resentful, just resigned.  I suppose they were all waiting for us to come out so they could try to make some money out of us – and why not??  I looked up and realised I was sitting under a sign which said, amongst many other instructions, “Do not sit here and be idle.”  Oh OK!  I got out my file and had a good little go at my nails, so as to be busy as instructed.  There were lots of nice young travellers for me to talk to, so I was very contented.

While we were in the queue, we chatted with two very tall young backpackers from South Australia, James and Suzie, who were carrying the most enormously heavy packs.  They had been travelling for about a year and they said they had everything they needed in their packs – stoves, tent, sleeping bags, cold weather and hot weather clothes.  They were very lean and very fit!  We decided to get a boat together the following morning, to watch the sun rise over the Ganges.  To finalise this arrangement, we arranged to meet them at the Madras Cafe, which they showed us in their Lonely Planet Guide, for dinner.  This looked like a good place to meet, near the ghats, where we could book our boat. Suzie was very anxious that we might be ripped off and have to spend too much for our boat.  (The most expensive boat trips were about $7 so I didn’t really see what she was so anxious about but never mind…)  As we were leaving, Vish and Pete struck up a conversation with a very nice taxi driver, Raj.  They negotiated with him that he would come and pick us up from the Buddha at 5am the next day, to take us on our boat trip. 

It had been quite easy finding the railway station; what was not so easy was finding the Buddha Hotel.  We walked quite a way, getting very hot, until Vish and Pete gave in (I had given in long before but hadn’t said, for fear of looking like a wuss,) and climbed into a rickshaw.  This wasn’t an autorickshaw; it was in fact my first experience of being on a traditional bike rickshaw.  Our driver was a thin, wiry man – you do NOT see a fat podgy rickshaw driver, ever!  We were a bit reluctant to crowd into the seat – surely three big whitepeople would be too much for him?  No no!  He was delighted to have us, no problem at all.  Even better, he knew exactly where the Buddha Hotel was!  We negotiated a price and set off.  I had to sit forward, perched on Pete’s hot knees.  By the end of the trip my legs were trembling like jelly from the strain of keeping my body from falling out under the wheels of another rickshaw.  How can I even complain for one second?  I was sitting while our driver was straining his way though the traffic.  Rickshaw drivers are at a distinct disadvantage in that they don’t have horns to toot.  All other vehicles, other than bullock carts, have drivers with their hands firmly planted on the horn at all times.  The poor rickshaw drivers just have to duck and weave silently, with everyone tooting at them.

It wasn’t very long before we realised that we were quite lost, getting further from the vicinity of the Buddha with every inch.  I won’t go into any incriminating or unkind details, but I will hint that maybe Vish and Pete were a bit forceful in their directions to the poor driver – NO NO don’t turn right!  That is entirely wrong!  We KNOW you have to turn left and go THAT way!  So there we were, in the seething Varansi traffic, heading God knows where, with our poor driver looking quite desperate.  We were passed by another rickshaw – James and Suzie, looking very confident.  Hello! They shouted.  A few minutes later we passed them.  They had pulled up on the side of the road and had their map out.  James was saying to his driver, in despairing tones, “So where is this??”  This made us laugh a lot.  We had negotiated a 50 rupee trip, because the Buddha wasn’t more than 500 metres from the railway station.  By now our driver had gone, we estimated, about 5 kilometres.  He still thought he could find our hotel.  Vish was feeling extremely guilty that we were sitting while our driver was struggling so he hopped out of the rickshaw and started running nimbly through the traffic as if he were a vehicle.  Our driver was absolutely appalled and made strangled cries.  Pete and I were fatalistic about it and just sat watching our friend darting in and out, under the wheels of bullock carts, across the path of autorickshaws, around roundabouts where traffic goes in every direction at once.  It all got too much and we asked our driver to pull over.  We gave him 120 rupees and told him he could go.  He thanked God and nearly kissed all of us, so relieved to get a decent fare ($4….) and to be rid of us!

And yes we did get back to the Buddha, it actually was quite close, we had gone in a large circle.  Eagle-eyed Pete had espied a small bottle shop around the corner, so he and I went to get beer while Vish went to recuperate from his traffic sprint.  On our way back we were pestered by a swarm of young children, one of whom pinched my arm really hard (left a bruise!) and said, Good morning! in menacing tones.  I glared and wanted to say, “Well that’s NOT the way to get money out of me!  Charm works better!”

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