Katie Revell\’s India Blog

For those of you who are enjoying, or preparing to enjoy, a barbeque (is it Summer yet, over yonder?), perhaps you’ll this post will seem especially resonant, or multi-sensory, or something…

We are in Varanasi, one of those cities that the guidebooks describe with adjectives like “bustling” and “grimy” and “colourful”. It is all of those, I have to say - the kind of place you’d see in an artfully-shot BBC documentary. Sitting on the bank of the Ganges, it’s one of the most holy places for Hindus, and is especially popular as a place to be cremated. The water’s edge is lined with “ghats” - platforms jutting into the river on which the bodies are placed in funeral pyres (cost having been carefully calculated and bartered in the log market just beside, according to the weight of wood required: Indians aren’t particuarly prudish about finances, at any stage of life).

Our walk to the hotel this morning - the streets were too narrow to let the auto through - was quite an experience. I was reminded strongly of Venice, with the addition (enhancement?) of several massive cows and bulls and their droppings, as well as the usual stray children, dogs and chai stalls. Having just come down from the mountains - and a former Raj hillstation at that - we’ve been plunged back into what might (inaccurately, but understandably) be termed “Real India”.

Having left Manali, we spent a couple of nights in Shimla, which, towards the end of British rule, was the Summer Capital. It’s a funny little place with the architectural remnants of the old occupants still very visible, including smart churches, grand hotels and schools. Of course, intermingled slightly surrealy with these now are the features I just described relating to Varanasi - though there are no autos, presumably because of the steep hills. Most of the visitors (of which there were hoards) were Indians families and couples up from the scorching plains to get their fix of the relative coolth.

Working backwards, we ended up staying in (or rather, just outside) Manali for rather longer than we’d intended. Our initial trek turned out to be rather more of a pleasant stroll (although I still managed to aquire an impressive collection of blisters) and so we did another two-day trek, this time right up into amazingly scenic snowy mountain landscapes. Having come to India prepared to live in a place where Summer temperatures are often around 45 degrees (yeah, I can’t wait to get back), I wasn’t exactly prepared for minus temperatures. However, with inventive layering, I managed to botch together something like a sensible outfit and, apart from being bloody freezing all night, was fine. The walk itself was fantastic - tiring at times because of the steep incline and thinner air but well worth it for the views and the “I’m walking through Himalayan snow!” factor. Photos will follow; there are quite a few.

In Manali, we were again lucky enough to enjoy the hospitality of people we’d never met - this time some friends of a woman we befriended while she was volunteering at SKCV earlier this year. Her friends - to brothers and their brother-in-law - run treks, among other things. For the first two nights we stayed down from Manali in a place called Kachnal (home of the brother-in-law, whose grandfather owns a guesthouse there) and we then moved to Goshal, the home village of the two brothers, further up the valley and unreachable by road (although not for much longer, judging by the work going on while we were there). It was a lovely place, surrounded on all sides by snowy peaks and totally untouched by the feet and cash of tourists like ourselves.

The houses were mostly built in the traditional Himachal style - wood-framed with stone and mud walls and massive great paving slabs as rooftiles. There’s a space for livestock below and a covered veranda around the first floor. Overall the impression is of a gingerbread house; they’re pretty cute. They are, however, also appropriately hefty: the oldest ones have doors no more than a metre or so high, and about 20cm thick. Suffice to say, they keep the heat in. Perhaps some of the East Lothian developers would like to come on a reckie? The climate’s pretty similar.