Our Indian sojourn continues: Manali, McLeod Ganj, and Amritsar

Well, what a busy few weeks on our way here to Pushkar—a small town in eastern Rajasthan. First, Claire went to hospital in Manali with ‘Delhi belly’. Then we just missed the Dalai Lama in McLeod Ganj. And, finally, we were inspired by the Golden (Sikh) Temple in Amritsar.

But before telling these stories, I should tell you a little more about our time in Agra...

Agra take two...

Claire was so focused on talking about the Taj Mahal in our last post that she forgot about two other important sites: Agra Fort and nearby Fatehpur Sikri.

Agra Fort is a majestic red-sandstone fort and palace just west of the Taj Mahal. Surrounded by double outer walls, the fort houses a series of interconnected tunnels, towers, and rooms. Much of the interior is made of white marble and decorated with mosaics, arches, and balconies. There are private and public halls, a ladies bazaar, an elephant fighting pit, and several mosques. And it offers unobstructed views of the Taj Mahal. It makes for a pretty impressive prison really—which was the fate of one of its rulers, Shah Jahan, who was imprisoned by his son in 1658.

India is dam hot in summer; and Agra Fort is no exception. Crowds brave the heat with umbrellas and turbines while entrepreneurs profit from it by selling iceblocks and cooled coconut. It is not surprising that the moot surrounding the fort was dry—and had been for long time.

Fatehpur Sikri is a fortified ghost city just west of Agra. Once the capital of the Mughal Empire, the much revered ruler Akbar made the simple mistake of building the city where there was no water.

But his mistake does not detract from the city’s architectural splendour. Palaces and pavilions, mosques, gardens, an ornamental pool, and an astrologer’s kiosk make for enticing viewing. Arches lead into alcoves that lead into stone columns. Some have intricate carvings while others are protected by blue Persian roof tiles. And, apart from the odd Indian tourist, the city was relatively empty when we visited. The only real pain: the constant demands for our used entry tickets made by local kids.

...now, back to Manali, McLeod Ganj and Amritsar.

Hospitals in Manali

As Claire noted earlier, we nibbled our way through street food in Delhi. This may not have been our best idea...

Claire is usually a complacent traveller on long, bumpy, dusty, crowded and hot overnight bus rides. But not this time. After a restless sleep bussing north from Delhi to Manali, Claire began showing the classical symptoms of the infamous tummy bug, ‘Delhi belly.’

Upon our arrival into Manali it became clear that she was not well. This diagnosis was confirmed after she was admitted to an emergency room the next day with dehydration and acute gastroenteritis. The cause: unknown but presumed to be Delhi street food. Fortunately her stay at the hospital was brief (about 3 hours); and after some intravenous fluids, antibiotics, and some prescription drugs, it was back to bed for her.

This left me with some alone time to fill. Most of it was spent exploring Manali with its cool climate, fast-flowing river, pine-tree covered ranges, and mix of Buddhist and Hindu cultures. Gompas—not unlike those in Nepal and western Sichuan province—are draped in colour prayer flags in the Tibetan area of town while the Hindu temple of Hadimba nestles between pine trees and is decorated with woodcarvings and bull horns further up the road.

The people are friendly enough; with tourism an important trade for the town. Stores selling Tibetan clothes and Hindu paintings line the muddy streets, while food vendors offer Indian sweets, samousas, and masala chai.

Owing to its relaxed vibe, Manali is also a bit of backpacker ghetto. Many foreigners come here to smoke dope and be lazy. Others come for paragliding, zorbing, canyoning, and other outdoor activities. But we fall into neither category. Instead, we were transit travellers: seeking to head further north to the Buddhist-influenced city of Leh in Ladakh province.

But, unfortunately, the weather was not on our side as heavy rains closed the temperamental Manali-Leh highway. So, after Claire recovered, we instead bussed west to McLeod Ganj—home of the Dalai Lama, the exiled leader of Tibet.

Buddhism in McLeod Ganj

McLeod Ganj is one of the wettest places on earth. Even more so than the west coast of New Zealand’s South Island. And it showed: it rained on every day of the four that we stayed.

Fortunately it has good drainage. Sitting atop a ridge just north of Dharamsala and nestled amongst pine forests, McLeod Ganj was originally established as a British garrison in the 1850s. Now it is home to the Tibetan government in exile, including its leader the Dalai Lama—who, unfortunately, was away in Europe during our visit.

Tibetan influence is everywhere: with prayer flags, red-robe-wearing lamas, stupas, and momo-selling food vendors dotted around. But so too is the presence of Indians who trade with Tibetans and tourists alike. The two cultures seem to fit comfortably together, for now. But there must be a tipping point. How long I wonder before local Indians begin to protest the growing number of Tibetans?

There are many important sites in McLeod Ganj. The Tibet Museum was well worth the sobering visit. Photos and film of atrocities and protest after the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1949 show the plight of many innocent people. It is truly distressing how little the West got involved.

Also, a walk around the Tsuglaghang complex was rewarding. The complex includes the Dalai Lama’s residence, his government’s secretariat, and several gompas. Many Tibetan pilgrims—and tourists like us—follow the semi-wilderness path that snakes around the outside of the complex.

Apart from walking the streets of McLeod Ganj, our only other adventure was a short loop walk through pine forests and the nearby villages of Bhagsu and Dharamkot. Views along this walk are normally inspiring. But when the weather sets in the views are less so. We got the latter.

We have experienced many religions (and cultures) during our trip; and so after leaving McLeod Ganj for the Sikh city of Amritsar (in Punjab province) further south it was time to say goodbye to another, for a while at least—Tibetan Buddhism.

Sikhs in Amritsar

Sikhism is a relatively new religion founded in Punjab province in the 15^th century as a reaction to the caste system. Many devotees wear turbans of all colours and all believe in reincarnation and karma—much like Buddhists and Hindus. Spiritual idols are called gurus and the Sikhs’ holiest shrine is the Golden Temple in Amritsar—and this is what we came to see.

It is a magnificent temple complex and free for all to see. A gleaming two-story golden temple stands in the middle of a sacred blue pool and is reached along a narrow causeway packed with pilgrims queuing to enter. The temple is made of marble and the pool is surrounded by a wide walkway. Some pilgrims bathe in the sacred waters while others rest under archways away from the sun. A loud continuous chant echoes around the complex and everyone walks barefoot with headscarfs.

The complex also houses museums, a tower, the Sikh parliament, and dorm rooms. But perhaps one of the more interesting dimensions to the complex is its dining hall—which offers free meals to all. It is a massive operation serving more than 60,000 vegetarian meals per day to pilgrims sitting cross-legged on the floor. Making the most of the opportunity, we ate dal, chapatti, and rice pudding for lunch with the masses.

The other main attraction of Amritsar lies 30 km west of the city: the India-Pakistan border closing ceremony at Wagah. The ceremony is pure theatre. Just before sunset every evening, border guards from both countries engage in an exchange of loud salutes, comical goose-steeping, trumpeting, gate opening and closing, and flag lowering. There is some kind of rhythm to the exchange. But we were unable to pick it.

The exchange is not just between border guards. In fact, the ceremony has become as much as spectator activity as anything else. Large grandstands have been built on both sides of the border to watch the ceremony where crowds exchange cheers and compete in flag relays. But despite the good nature of both sides, it is clear that the Indian supporters far outweigh their Pakistani counterparts.

We thoroughly enjoyed the event, as much for the organisation required to seat all the Indian supporters as for the ceremony itself.

After the excitement of Amritsar, it was time to head back to Delhi on our way to the fort-covered state of Rajasthan.

Delhi

A short stopover was all that was required of Delhi before heading to Jaipur, Pushkar, and further into Rajasthan.

We had two missions: visit the Red Fort and meet our friend Uryia. The fort was nothing special so I won’t bore you with the details.

After both were complete we moved on: leaving behind India’s capital, which for me was nothing special but not a drag either.

* * * * *

Pushkar is an attractive town. But we won’t stay forever: next we head to Bikaner and further west into Rajasthan in search of more forts and camel safaris.

Love to all,

xxx.

Varanasi, Agra, Delhi

This is a pretty short post but once again we are further in our travels than in our writing. We are currently in McLeod Ganj home of the Dalai Lama enjoying another little bit of Tibetan culture to make up for our lost trip to Tibet.

So here it is the first little taste of India. More to come soon; I promise!

Varanasi

After a less than fantastic night’s sleep at the border town of Bhairahawa we were up early and across the border in the rain for another long bone shaking bus ride to the Indian city of Varanasi.  The only word to describe Varanasi is overwhelming.  One of the oldest cities in the world and one of the holiest cities in India, Varanasi assaults all your senses.

Sitting alongside the Ganges River the city is a pilgrimage site for Hindus who come to bathe in the river’s sacred water; thus it is teeming with people all heading along the narrow streets towards or away from the river.  Also considered an auspicious place to die, the river is lined with cremation sites where bodies are openly burned.

Certainly an intense way to start our adventure in India: our time in Varanasi was spent exploring the narrow streets of the old city.  The streets are messy, noisy, and crowded.  Cows defecate everywhere and munch on rubbish left behind by an uncaring public.  But people walk on through.  Pilgrims wear orange and walk with painted faces and flower baskets full of holy (Ganges) water.   Others clap gongs and other noise-making devices in some—as of yet—unidentified rhythm.

After a very rattly overnight train trip we arrived in Agra.

Agra

People pretty much come to Agra for one thing: to visit the Taj Mahal.

It’s hard to know what to write about the Taj Mahal.  Everything has been written before and everyone has seen the photos.  It is an exceedingly beautiful building.  But somehow I was not a blown away as many previous visitors were.  I found it a bit lifeless (apart from all the tourists); unlike many other places we have visited it doesn’t breathe spirituality it’s not alive with worship and meaning.   It sits surrounded by its gracious gardens somehow apart from the scruffy city surrounding it.

 And there you go. I may be the only person in history to go to the Taj Mahal and write a less than stellar review.

Delhi

Everything we had heard suggested Delhi would be a pretty intense experience: mayhem.  However we actually found it not as bad as we expected...obviously we are now seasoned travellers whom nothing fazes!  We stayed just one day in Delhi.  But, being a Monday, none of the major sights we open so we spent the day wandering the streets of Old Delhi taking in the sights and smells of the spice and cloth markets, nibbling on street snacks, and generally taking it all in.

******

Coming up next Manali and Mcleod Ganj with a detour to the emergency room

Love to all

xxxx

The last of Nepal: Chitwan National Park, Pokhara, and the Poon Hill Trek

A whirlwind tour—we are now in Dehli, India at the start of our tour of the subcontinent. We have already visited the Hindi cultural hub of Varanasi and the magnificent Taj Mahal of Agra.

But those adventures are for our next post. Below we tell of the last of our time in Nepal: tiger chasing in Chitwan National Park and trekking around Pokhara.

Chitwan National Park

Eli here.

Chitwan National Park is a magical place—and home to some impressive animals: wild elephants, rhinos, and tigers to name but a few. We based ourselves in Sauraha (on the northern border) and spent one long day exploring the park and another looking at nearby attractions.

Day one. Seven am was our start time: with two park rangers as our guides we set off for a 10-hour trek. Although animals are harder to spot at this time of year—due to the tall native grasses and the monsoon weather—we weren’t disappointed with the animals we found.

First, gharial crocodiles slithered their long bony bodies back into the river after being disturbed by our canoe-based arrival into the park. Next, a herd of spotted deer bolted—albeit in a circular path around us—after hearing our intrusion into their morning feeding. Monkeys were spotted from time to time swinging high in the tree tops. And little red and black winged-insects were unintentionally squashed as they ate rotting fruit that lay below our feet.

But our most exciting find came a little later. After reaching a hide for a break we were quickly, but quietly, led to a nearby mud pool where a rhino was bathing. Excellent hearing and smell but poor vision meant that the usually temperamental animal made a steady retreat further into the thick grasses. Just our luck!

Our brief encounter raised our adrenaline. But, unfortunately, we found little else except for more bolting deer and swinging monkeys. We did trail a series of (fresh) tiger paw prints—which got us excited for a while—and dine on fresh mangos that our guides knocked out of trees with large trekking sticks.

But between the leeches, the hides, and the monsoon downpours, we still had fun.

Day two. At lunch time every day domesticated elephants bathe in the river that borders Sauraha. Popular with tourists, we were happy enough watching people fall ungracefully into the waters.

But our elephant encounters weren’t over. Next, we biked to the nearby elephant breeding centre where keepers care for elephants of all ages. These elephants mix with the wild population in Citwan National Park.

But, despite the keepers’ efforts, the centre was not impressive. Elephants were chained to wooden poles on small grassless mounds. Some had both legs chained together and all were separated. Most swayed in a semi-hypnotic dance just before feeding time—behaviour typical of captive animals.

There was one baby elephant that was free to roam, but hid behind its mother (and other relatives) as tourists walked by.

With our wildlife viewing complete, we bussed to the lakeside city of Pokhara—about six hours northwest of Sauraha.

Pokhara

Resting beside Phewa Lake, Pokhara is a quiet little city with short buildings and snaky streets. There are samousa stalls, over-stocked outdoor stores, and empty hotels. Locals sell anything from silk scarfs and pastries to paragliding trips and non-metered taxi rides, but struggle in the tourist offseason.

We stayed five nights in total; spending our days wondering the streets, drinking marsala tea, and preparing for our Poon Hill hike (see below).

One day I went on a solo mission up to the World Peace Pagoda. Funded by the Japanese Buddhist Association, this little—by our standards—pagoda was well-proportioned, white, round, and golden. With a stray dog as its protector, the pagoda overlooks Pokhara and the surrounding valleys. And when the weather is good—which it wasn’t—it offers stunning views of the 8000 plus meter high Annapurna and Manaslu ranges.

By the time I got there, I passed a troupe of monkeys looking for trouble, several couples struggling to ride scooters up the gravel path, female Chinese tourists in high heels holding cameras, local kids asking for lollies and pens, and a collection of huts and corn plantations.

On the way back to Pokhara I stopped off at the overhyped Devi’s Falls—which although misty and raging were nothing compared to waterfalls back in NZ.

Poon Hill

Claire here.

The negotiations on lengths of treks in Nepal began weeks in advance. It’s fair to say that walking is not my favourite activity, especially up hill. And I’ve done my fair share of walking up hills in the past 7 months. We finally decided on the 5 day 4 night Poon Hill trek. I conceded we didn’t need a guide.

The two days before we left I was sick, just a cold and a bit of a fever but definitely not fantastic. The day we left I was feeling a bit better and we made good time getting to our proposed night destination by lunch time. After lunch we decided to push on knowing that the next part was step and getting some of it under our belt would make tomorrow a bit easier.

By mid afternoon my cold was catching up with me and I was ready to stop so we found a lodgein the village of Ulleri where i hit my bed and pretty much stayed there until the next morning. The clouds, drizzle and steep steps continued the next morning as we made our way to the village of Gorapani. Once again I hit my bed to rest up while Eli decided to climb Poon Hill. A short walk from Gorapani Poon Hill is actually quite a high mountain by most countries’ standards at 3210m. The weather meant that there were none of the supposedly spectacular views to be had.

The next day with the weather still bad we decided to combine what was supposed to be 2 short days of walking into one long one and make for Ghandruk. The weather actually cleared a bit as we approached Ghandruk and we caught our first small glimpses of the towering Annapurna ranges surrounding us. I was feeling significantly better than I had the previous 2 days but I had lost my voice making for a quiet afternoon walking for Eli.

The final day was wet, wet, wet; making for very slow going down the slippery steep steps. We made it down to the village of Naya Pul just in time to jump on the bus back to Pokhara.

Our final day in Pokhara was a relaxing one before we jumped on the bus the next morning for a long journey to the Nepal- India boarder.

* * * * *

We both love India. But our time here must end. After finishing up our tour of the north west and western parts of India, we are flying to Tanzania for a month of volunteering and a sojourn around neighbouring countries. We can’t wait!

Love to all,

xxx