Finishing out India: Race through the north/northeast

My first stop after New Delhi was Nainital, a place recommended to me by a friend of Caroline’s.  Nainital is a small hill station situated around a volcanic lake at about 2500m up in the Himalayan foot hills.  It was truly a remarkable experience for two reasons.  First off, it was the first time I had felt cold since coming to India three months prior, so cold that I went out and bought a wool sweater immediately.  Second, there was a tout on the street and he actually passed over me in favor of the Indian family behind me, that’s when I realized I had only been bothered by hawkers a few times since I arrived.  One the wonders of traveling to places that is just for foreign tourists.  Nainital was nice place to rest up for a few days and get out of the heat, literally and figuratively. 

Two buses, a train and 24 hours later… Hello Hepatitis B!  Oh wait, I mean, hello Varanasi!  Oppressively hot and laden with animal feces to an extent which I had never witnessed before in a place where human beings chose to live, I didn’t stay long.  The section of the city bordering the Ganges River is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and it has streets so narrow that on my way to the train station a single file line of buffalo blocked the way entirely.  Varanasi was also home to some of the worst & most prevalent scams including several at the Burning Ghat where the Hindu funeral rituals take place.  The river is also a focal point of social gathering and family fun and the locals see no reason not to stay up stream of where the ashes of dozens of people and whole, loosely bound bodies (not needing the ritual purification of fire) are shoveled into the river (hence the Hep B reference).  The only redeeming factors to that experience were going to a Bollywood movie with an Italian named Franchesco and a Korean named Ann and The Blue Lassie Shop. 

After a train, a bus, jeep and another 24 hour travel day; back up to the mountains for some fresh air and fantastic tea, off to Darjeeling I go.  My first full day in Darjeeling was my 21^st birthday.  I knew pretty much no one and I started the day visiting monasteries with a French woman named Sanne (I know, “French woman” is a great way to start a birthday story, it’s too bad she had to go to Kolkata early in the day).  I picked up a bottle of Indian wine noting the sign proclaiming that in the state of West Bengal no alcohol is to be sold to anyone under the age of 21.  They didn’t even ask for my ID, but I tried to show it to them anyways, they laughed at me.  After a short respite and lunch I went out again, alone, to wander through Darjeeling.  About 20 minutes into the wandering I stumbled upon a wedding and was promptly invited in.  I spent the next three hours discussing the differences between the Sikkimese and Indian versions of the same brandy and eating with a group of men who consistently failed to acknowledge when they refilled my glass that my full glass was 100% brandy, while they water theirs down to about 20%.  That started at 3pm and needless to say, I didn’t make it to that bottle of wine.  That night I met a group that was heading to Sikkim for a short trek the following day. 

Sikkim is the tiny little state nestled between Bhutan, China, Nepal and Indian state of West Bengal and is possibly the most truly peaceful places I’ve ever been.  Each day Mike the 47 year old Jew from Wisconsin, Eliza the 27 year old hippie from France, Manu the 21 year old student of life from Germany and I would walk about a vertical kilometer down to the river and then back up to a similar altitude we started at to the next town.  Walking distance was about three kilometers down and 10 back up with an hour long hang out at the river.  We would start just after sunrise and arrive at our destination in the early afternoon.  In our second town, Kechuperi, we stayed in a small guesthouse on top of a nearby hill.  When we arrived and answered in the affirmative that we were hungry, they told us it would be a little while because they had to go pick the food.  They also had fresh Tongba (millet beer) and the cutest 2 month old cat ever.  I think I’ve established what my self-cleansing routine is. 

After Sikkim, I had a few days before my flight to Kathmandu and I wanted to put off going to Kolkata as long as possible, so I went to the Macabarie Tea Estate where I learned more about tea than I ever thought there was to know.  After all that I didn’t end up buying any because after drinking some of what may be the most expensive tea in the world, I realized that I just can’t tell a difference. 

Kolkata was my last stop in India and while it has come a long way from the black hole that it used to be, it still is a strong reminder about how far India still needs to come. 

Next stop, “I think I’m goin’ to Kathmandu!”