Welcome to Varanasi - oldest living city in India, built on the banks of the holy Ganges River. By the time I reached Varanasi, I had endured a day of Jeep tracks down the mountains and 20 hours of train riding which in itself is a feat (especially if one includes the monkeys with face leprosy, the cockroaches for cabin mates and begging children that have eyes trained to pierce souls) to be welcomed to 46 degrees centigrade of blistering, sandstorm summer. All that and more couldnt stop the sight of ancient temples and ghats reaching down to the mighty Ganges taking my breath away. A site for Hindu pilgrims across India, it is the most revered site to die (you get to skip all the reincarnations and jump straight to enlightenment if you die in Varanasi) and an important pilgrimage site. It's also exceptionally beautiful.
Like an ancient meeting place, people dressed in all colours of the imagination come down to the river side to bathe, wash clothes and give offerings.
And, more infamously, to burn the dead. The funeral pyres along the riverside are for cremating the dead but not everyone can afford to send their loved ones through the crematoriums. Informal and illegal fires along the edge of the river side are also used for cremating bodies, or sometimes partially cremating, depending on how much wood you can afford. There seems to be no concern to wash clothes, or yourself, quite literally right next to these fires.
Just back from the Ghats the winding alleyways are bustling with as much activity.
And you cant go anywhere without seeing a lively game of the national sport of India - wildly adored cricket.
Saree washing is a special art in itself the long reams of fabric lined on stairways to dry.
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