I don't know where to begin...being in Varanasi... In a room with a balcony view of the Ganges at Sunrise where smoke from The Cremating Ghat rises into the filtered India sky, casting a haze over the constant din of bells, prayers, barking dogs and the incessant beep of motorcycles making their way through the bustling commerce of tourists, merchants, Sadus and holy garbage -grazing cows crowding the narrow allies of this ancient city of Varanasi,while thin, dark-skinned men with teeth, darkened from the constant chewing of beetle nuts, skillfully row a small armada of wooden boats filled with tourists and cameras along the banks of the Ganges where thousands of Hindus bathe in its sacred,fetid waters and old shrines slowly sink into its muddy bottom.
Yes perhaps Varanasi is the best place to begin, at the Hotel Scindia with Norman recovering from whatever it was that set him so low, but that was four days ago and right now I'm laying on a bed in a room located in a hotel that once was
A Maharaja's palace outside the village of Orchha. Norman has Been asleep in the bed next to me all afternoon having suffered a slight setback from the intestinal problems he has battled since we left the monastery at Chhairo almost ten days ago.
Yes, perhaps that would be a good place to begin catching up.
Coming soon...
Leaving Chhairo ....
Or What To Do When The Planes Don't Fly!
~~~~~
CK
