The Long and Winding Road to Very Nasty

  The next 2 days are long and arduous in the bus as we traverse the country on poor roads. 300Kms takes us 10-12hrs. By now, many people are suffering with the heat and poor quality of food in the day. Although there are places to refuel, there is frequently only 1 toilet which is usually a hole in the ground and no flush, let alone paper. With 24 people and many suffering, it is not a good combination. Most of the bus are snacking on crisps and biscuits as this seems to be the only sustenance available at our stops. Coca Cola is a staple. I have managed to resist and try to grab some fruit wherever I can but I feel I have left my mojo behind somewhere along the road. We have travelled far, seen lots of sites and still understand little of India. This was not what I had hoped for from this trip and I feel like just another tourist, skimming the surface and never really seeing what lies beneath. I am intrigued and appalled by this country. I love its colour and diversity. I love the food. I love the optimism, friendliness and helpfulness of the people I have encountered. I have grown immune to the constant noise from tooting horns, the death-defying roads where we frequently swerve into ditches to avoid oncoming lorries , the pedlars and the beggars, the lines of shacks and garage lock-ups that constitute the homes and shops, the free roaming dogs, goats, cows, buffalo, and monkeys. Even the heat no longer feels oppressive. But the pervasive dust, grime and rubbish everywhere is defeating me. There is no escape. Not even in the comfort (well, it's all relative!) of my hotel room. It coats everything. The roads, the people, my clothes, my skin, my hair, my food, my drink.

When we arrive in Varanasi I am pleasantly surprised. I have been particularly apprehensive about this city, the Hindu Crematorium of India. As we arrive at our hotel in a leafy suburb, it seems quiet and the hotel is a vast improvement on Agra (it's all relative).