From Varanasi to Nasik

The more I thought about my crossroads the more roads I discovered. It took a leisurely three days to work it out. A trip to Nepal? A flight south? A venture to the remote North-East or even Bangladesh? A full southerly clockwise route? On day three I concocted a new plan; I decided to head back west and work my way to the South. Depending on whether I would remain ahead or behind of schedule, there would still be plenty of options available for me.

During the thinking period I enjoyed yet more laid back time in Varanasi. This time included me somehow getting up for my second sunset in as many months, this time for a boat ride across the Ganges with Hannah. It was pleasant, but I prefer being in the thick of it in the busy daytime. At one point though, Hannah asked a surprising question. "Is that a body?" she asked, pointing left into the river. Looking left I noticed a head, a couple of hands and a couple of feet floating motionless in the river. Anywhere else you wouldn't flicker an eyelid, but in the Ganges who knows? A couple of seconds later the toes began to wiggle; a local was having an early morning bath. The submerged cow we saw later, however, was not.

For my final day in Varanasi, I bought myself a present; a sitar lesson. I booked it at a music shop near my guesthouse, only realising later that I hadn't even met the tutor. I knew what I wanted though; an old, wise-looking, slightly frail but still nimble sitar master. When I entered the music shop, I wasn't disappointed. Sat down crossed-legs on the floor was Babadi; a seventy year old with thirty-five years of sitar experience, and exactly as I expected. To further boost my expected stereotype, he was half-deaf and had only half of his eyes working to match.

"What is your name?".
"Andy".
"Angy?".
"Andy!".
"Angy?".
"ANDY!".
"Angy?".
" ... ... yes."

It felt like being with one of the grandmas.

The lesson went well. Being a guitarist helps immensely. However, the most surprising thing was the pain; not in my already callused-fingers, but in my left leg! The heavy instrument sits on the foot of the crossed left leg and leans on the upwards-bent right leg. As a beginner, I found my leg going to sleep every ten minutes, causing me to get up and stroll around the tiny music shop. This apparently is normal. It was good though. I'd like to play one again, only this time with the freedom to play around, rather than doing progressively difficult versions of a simple song called 'Papa, Mama'. I'm still not sure if it was English, Hindi, or gobbledygook, but Babadi did a nice job of singing along anyway. Babadi is so cool!

On Wednesday it was finally time to leave Varanasi. After yet another goodbye to Hannah (I've lost count), I boarded the long train back south. This was extra nice because no-one tried to drug me! I got off at Jalgaon and caught a bus to the Ajanta caves. Numerous impressive sculptures and murals have survived the years in a bunch of caves discovered in 1819. The caves are set in really nice scenery, and it was a worthy stop.

I subsequently travelled down to Aurangabad, my base for a couple of nights, and on Thursday I made the day trip to Ellora. Ellora is another set of ancient sculpture filled caves, and was even more impressive than Ajanta. Most impressive of all, however, was cave 16; The Kailash Temple. It may seem confusing for a cave to be classed as a temple, but when you're there it's easy to forget it's a cave at all. The Kailash Temple isn't built from rock, it is built out of the rock. Over a period of one hundred years, a huge whole was dug from the cliff face, and a beautifully carved temple was sculpted. It's all very impressive.

On Friday I travelled west to Nasik. and on Saturday I took a ride to the river and to Ram Kund; a tank made from the river. It's a very holy place for Hindus, and in some ways it was reminiscent of the popular bathing ghat in Varanasi, albeit on a larger scale. The atmosphere was nice as people bathed in the water and just generally seemed happy. I stayed there for a while embracing the mood, and engaging in the occasional lost conversation. Being fairly off the beaten track, friendly locals are more enthusiastic than ever in saying hello to the white face, and one seemed very smug about gabbing away at me for a good five or ten minutes even though it was blatantly obvious I barely picked up a word. As with most of these encounters, the chirpy local offered to pose in a photograph before he said his farewells.

After a while I moved on to Kala Ram Mandir; The Black Rama Temple. This was the setting for a very well known scene in the Hindu book of Ramayana. Again there was a nice atmosphere, and with no further plans for the rest of the day, I sat down amongst the enthusiastic music makers and took it all in. I was there for quite a while, although it seemed like the musicians were happily going to stay all day. I particularly liked it how the microphone was passed around the circle, allowing everyone to have a go as vocalist.

Tomorrow I catch the train to Hyderabad, but I also hope to squeeze in a day trip to Trimbak beforehand.