Warning – this post contains details of Hindu cremations which some may find upsetting or uncomfortable.

One of the world’s oldest continually inhabited cities and the holiest in Hinduism, where pilgrims come to wash away their sins in the sacred waters of the River Ganges, or to cremate their loved ones by the riverside or simply to die here, hoping for liberation from the cycle of rebirth. Apparently Varanasi is magical, but not for the faint-hearted, as rituals of life and death take place in public, and the sight, sound and smells are intense – but confronting the ritual of death can be a powerful experience. We debated whether to do a major detour to visit Varanasi – the opinions we’d heard were very much divided, ‘humbling and very spiritual’ vs ‘filthy, overcrowded and overwhelming’ – and decided that we’d probably kick ourselves if we missed it. And after almost 3 months in India we could handle anything – couldn’t we??

So, up well before the crack of dawn for a 2nd consecutive morning for our 0500 tuk tuk to Agra Cantt station for the 0600 Express train to Varanasi. This would normally be a very long overnight journey, but the new service recently introduced does it in just 7 hours, so we’d be there at lunchtime. This was our most expensive train journey in India as we again opted for the Executive Chair (EC) class, at just over £20 each for a 300+ mile journey. The price and efficiency of Indian Railways will forever amaze us! First into our carriage we found that our bags wouldn’t fit above our seat as the space was slightly smaller due to the aircon unit, so we put them a little further back. All hell almost broke loose when the German couple arrived to find our bags above their seats, in an otherwise empty carriage. Their guide removed our bags and tried (and obviously failed) to squeeze them above our seats – honestly guys, lighten up! Then the large Italian tour party arrived and it became clear that this was not going to be a quiet and peaceful journey!! In addition to newspaper and water as usual in this class, we were also given a rose each (random, no idea why) and set off, passing Agra Fort and spotting the pre-dawn Taj Mahal from the river, rising eerily from the mist. Breakfast service may have been adjusted for the Italians and was very odd – sliced white bread & jam, Kellog’s Cornflakes with hot milk (yuk, ice cold milk is the ONLY way to do cornflakes in Debbie’s humble opinion), a vanilla muffin, apple juice and a bizarre (before 0700 in the morning) veggie cutlet with chips, veg and ketchup – but perfectly edible and still less than £1.50 each.

Our taxi was waiting at the other end and whisked us efficiently to our hotel Stay Banaras which had been recommended by a guy Debbie got chatting to in the sea in Goa, and was tucked away in a relatively peaceful spot. A small boutique hotel that Debbie managed to find at a bargain rate on Expedia (£50/night) and looked gorgeous from the various online pictures. Our room wasn’t quite ready when we arrived and an Indian lady was arguing with reception about hers – ominous. Half an hour or so later, Princess Deborah was down in reception doing the same – our ‘deluxe room with garden view’ was utterly shite, tiny and in desperate need of a coat of paint. Without argument she was shown another room, but on the 3rd floor and up a very narrow spiral staircase – apparently the same grade of room at the same price but 3x bigger, newly refurbished, with a corner sofa, bigger bed and outside space. We don’t think the luggage guys were too happy moving our bags up there though!

Debbie was a little apprehensive about Varanasi so we decided to have a guided tour and took Pradeep at the excellent ‘Delhi by Locals’ up on his offer to sort it for us. Our guide Raj collected us at 1700 for the first leg – the evening Aarti ceremony by the Ganges. We were led through the packed labyrinth of lanes near the ghats (flights of steps down to the river, there are 84 of them in Varanasi) eventually arriving at Dashashwamedh Ghat, where Raj directed us to the best seats in the house, high up on a rooftop with a direct view of the proceedings – seven platforms representing the 7 temples of Varanasi, and a priest from each in attendance. The ceremony is conducted every night at sunset to worship the holy river, and a lighter version at sunrise each morning. Varanasi is to Hindus what Mecca is to Muslims, and pilgrims aim to visit Varanasi at least once in their lifetime, so the platforms were surrounded by a seated crowd and further onlookers were observing from rooftops like us, or from an enormous flotilla of boats on the river. The ceremony was spectacular with the 7 priests perfectly synchronised with their chanting prayers, waving of incense sticks, filling the air with sandalwood smoke and fire rituals. We found it all very moving and magical, and a great privilege to be part of. Raj got us out a few minutes before the end (a little like the wise move to exit Wembley a minute before the end of the match and save an hour or more getting to Wembley Park tube station), as the crowds exiting would’ve made moving through the streets even more arduous.

We were hot and sweaty but hungry so went straight for dinner at our hotel – their Behind Yellow Doors diner being rated No 1 restaurant in Varanasi on Tripadvisor. While looking at the menu Debbie asked whether they had beer and got the dreaded response of ‘no alcohol’. Sh*t, we really fancied an ice cold Kingfisher 🙁 Oh well, a virgin Pina Colada and a Mango Cheesecake Shake would have to do to accompany our pizza and noodles!

A 3rd consecutive morning with a ridiculously early start saw us setting off at 0515 for a sunrise boat trip on The Ganges. The streets were as busy as the previous evening, with pilgrims and tourists heading for the ghats to partake in, or observe, the morning rituals. People were bathing in the holy waters (rather them than us, the river is filthy, heavily polluted and had all manner of unmentionable stuff floating on it), praying with the priests or having ceremonies conducted for their departed relatives who didn’t make it to Varanasi for death and/or cremation, or simply watching the goings-on. We boarded a boat, just 2 couples rather than the 40+ people on most boats, and set off down the river before the sun rose over the right bank. We passed several ghats, palaces, bathers, swimmers (madness) and boats. We learned that the right bank is actually dried out riverbed and that when the monsoon comes the river level will rise many metres, submerging the ghats. On reaching Harishchandra Ghat, a secondary cremation ground, we turned around and headed North, just as the sun rose. The colours and reflections against the mist were something else. We passed the grand house flanked by tiger statues which is owned by the “Untouchable King’ – the family who sell wood for the funeral pyres, and maintain the 5,000 year old bonfire that provides the hot coals to light the pyres, then disembarked at Manikarnika Ghat, the main cremation site.

Usually such sites are located in inauspicious places on the outskirts of towns, but in Varanasi this site has very special significance and a Ganges-side site to match. This is where all Hindus would ideally wish to end their days on Earth, for it is the most holy place that a Hindu cremation can take place. The deceased are carried through the streets on a bamboo stretcher, covered in orange shrouds. The chief mourner usually shaves their head and gathers with the mourners to submerge the body into the Ganges before purchasing 28kg of wood to build the cremation pyre, placing the body on the top and covering with more wood, purchasing a white hot coal from the central cremation fire which has apparently been burning here for 5,000 years before circling the pyre 5 times, to release the five elements. These elements are: Prithvi (Earth), Jala (Water), Agni (Fire), Vayu (Air), Akasha (Aether). Then they set it alight.

It takes 2-3 hours for the cremation to be completed, after which any remaining bones are ceremoniously thrown into the river. Pregnant women, children under 10, those with smallpox and some other exceptions cannot be cremated so are weighed down with a big stone and given a ‘water burial’ in The Ganges. And people want to swim/bathe in it???!!! We were surprised that there were no priests or obvious pomp and ceremony to the proceedings, and that it was quite ‘self-service’, a bit of a conveyor belt and that dogs/cows were wandering around the site. Debbie found it very moving and special, Steve thought it was squalid and reminded him of our local council tip (but that Paignton Recycling Centre was cleaner and tidier). We’ll have to agree to disagree – while there’s no doubt about the facts and the filth, there’s still something very powerful about witnessing the most holy and auspicious Hindu end of life send off.

We tried to get into a temple via the back gate but it was closed, and we then witnessed the HUGE queues at the other gates – pilgrims standing for literally hours to make their offerings and say their prayers. India is a very religious country anyway, but that is amplified hugely in Varanasi.

We were back at the hotel by 0730, having witnessed the most surreal events and after a huge breakfast had a much needed kip (Debbie) and several games of chess (Steve) before setting off again in the afternoon for more immersion in the madness that is Varanasi.

From Hinduism to Budhism

Sarnath is 10Km from the city centre and here we switched from Hinduism to Buddhism as it’s one of the 4 key sites of the latter religion, the place where the Buddha delivered his first sermon after his enlightenment to his 5 disciples in 530 BC. Over the centuries the settlement flourished as a site of Buddhist art and teaching, eventually having over 30 monasteries supporting over 3,00 monks, but Indian Buddhism floundered under the impact of Muslim invasions and the rise of Hinduism, and the settlement eventually dissolved and much of the site lay in ruins for almost a millennium until discovery in 1834 and subsequent excavation. The site was pretty impressive and the adjacent museum quite fascinating.

On the way back to the hotel, we asked our guide to take us to a beer shop – we have no shame – and enjoyed some cold Kingfishers after an exhausting day.

We had a day spare before our flight to Mumbai, and the temperatures were forecast to rocket, so Debbie found a hotel with a pool that non-residents could use for a fee. Surprisingly we were the only people with this idea and had the Clarks Hotel pool to ourselves for the entire day – an oasis of calm apart from the workmen sawing and drilling.

In addition to being the most holy of cities, Varanasi is also renowned for its silk-weaving industry, with local artisans producing beautiful pieces by hand. Steve wanted to purchase a scarf for his mum and we found a couple of recommendations for places that were fixed price, honest and didn’t subscribe to the backhander/commission culture for guides and tuk-tuk drivers. After a bit of fuss we managed to get a tuk-tuk to the vicinity of Paraslakshmi Exports, but only after the driver wanted to take us to another silk shop and was questioning the directions we were giving him to deep inside a residential area. The ‘shop’ would be easy to miss, just a door located behind gates on the ground floor of a homestay. Mattresses for displaying silk bedding and cupboards full of silk pieces were the only clues that this was indeed a retail outlet. Firstly we were shown a multitude of different fabric qualities before the colour options were brought out. The quality/design was easy to decide but Debbie liked one colour and Steve another, so we purchased both, and some cans of Kingfisher too. Steve had been mortified when Debbie asked if the shopkeeper knew where we could buy beer – but got over it when they said that they had some for their homestay guests and could provide it at pretty much standard prices. Well it saved us finding a beer shop!

On check out there was no way we were going to risk life and limb by attempting to get our bags down the spiral staircase, even if we had got the weight down to 15Kg (as Debbie had been tight when booking the IndiGo flights) by jettisoning most of our toiletries and leaving behind some clothes/sandals that were no longer liked or reaching end of life. But the slender old Indian man managed to get Steve’s rucksack, Debbie’s trolley bag and both daypacks down said deathtrap spiral staircase and two further flights in one trip. That was worth a decent tip!

Then we were off in an Uber to Varanasi airport for our final trip in India – destination Mumbai…..