India, the Golden Triangle and the Hooghly River. Northern India Autumn 2017. After a seamless train journey to Reading and on to Heathrow by bus we were welcomed by Terminal three’s Virgin Atlantic check in desk. Here we deposited our luggage before entering the crowded departure lounge. As we were early we had four hours to wait before boarding the 787. Slightly cramped we took off on the 8 hour journey and landed just before 11 the next morning (Delhi time). Immigration took a long time before we changed some money at 79 rupees per pound; a dramatic drop since our last visit to India. Our collection transport hadn’t turned up so we took a taxi to our hotel, The Piccadilly. After a shower a rest was taken. We’re here! After a good rest we surfaced and explored the hotel. There is the pool area, so a swim will take place tomorrow. An enormous buzzard (could be an eagle) was flying around earlier. The food in the hotel is excellent; vegetarian biryani for Jen & black lentils and steamed rice for me. Fortunately there is a Metro station within a five minute walk from the hotel. The train from Janak Puri West took us to the centre of the city, a half hour journey. As we were travelling a young man informed us our Connaught Place station was called Ranakchowk. Here we got off and took a Tuk Tuk around several places of interest. Humayun’s Tomb was the first, an elaborate series of buildings to revere one of India’s rulers. The history regarding this ruler states he was exiled to Persia for 15 years. On his return to Delhi he constructed several grand palaces one of which served as his library. However one night as he stood at the top of the steps observing Venus he tripped over his robes and plunged to his death. The moral to this story is: I’m sure you’ll be able to add one to this comment. The next part of our tour through the noisy streets took us to the President’s palace, a large ornate building which can only be viewed from a distance. We followed this by passing the Parliament building, infinitely larger than Westminster Palace. India gate stands nearby, this large archway is a memorial to the men who fought in WW1. We passed many temples on our way back to Ranakchowk station from where we returned via the Metro to the hotel. At six we met all our fellow travellers and Raghu our tour guide (CEO). There were twenty four in all, from Australia, Canada, the USA and the UK. After we’d eaten our dinner we returned to our rooms for an early night in preparation for an early start the following morning. With our planned early start we were ready having eaten breakfast by 7:30 to venture to Old Delhi. We were taken to meet a young man Gunaie, one of the fortunate youngsters to have benefited from the street kids project at the Saalam Baalak Centre. Street kids are children who have either run away or have been thrown out of their homes for a variety of reasons, mainly because families were unable to support them. Many become owned by ‘mafia’ styled gangs and pimps. Gunaie was one of these but through the help of the charity and sheer hard work, is now a spokesperson able to promote the work done to turn around the lives of these children. He speaks confidently to tourist groups brought the centre. G adventure promotes the work by matching all donations from tourists. We were taken to a Muslim mosque and finally to a Sikh temple where all visitors were expected to wear a bandana to witness the acts of devotion. After wards we saw the kitchen where food was prepared for feeding the adherents and visitors to the temple. This is called ‘Lungar’. It is the Sikh custom to serve others and the best way is by feeding them. People sit in rows holding a plate onto which food such as dhal and flat bread is placed. After walking back through what is the busiest street in Old Delhi we set off on the road to Agra, arriving after 6:30. Our rooms are comfortable and again another early start at 7:30 was planned, to see the Taj Mahal. All along the streets we encountered cars, motor bikes, scooters and Tuk Tuks all sounding their horns to warn us of their presence. Cows can be seen everywhere. Driving in India is not for the faint hearted!! Although the 7:30 start was planned to beat the crowds, the ground was being trodden upon by many feet. However it was worth the early visit as the sun shone down onto the front of the monument to highlight the building’s white marble splendour. It is the only building I’ve seen that lives up to its reputation as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The engineering skills defy belief considering it was built over 450 years ago. We are only standing on the shoulders of giants. Afterwards, we drove through the heavy traffic to the Red Fort, an impressive red sandstone fortress which at the height of the Moghul empire contained two moats. The first filled with water and a number of crocodiles. If that wasn’t enough to deter would be invaders, inside the second, tigers roamed eager to satisfy their hunger. Needless to say no-one breached the defences successfully. The final visit was to the Baby Taj, completed in white marble two years before the building of the Taj Mahal was begun. Our final excursion of the day was to a restaurant where two musicians were playing. I ended up playing the sitar! It was a strange experience. The tabala player was the spitting image of Charlie Watts. The following morning we set off for Jaipur visiting places of interest on the way. The nine o’clock start took us away from the hustle of Agra, Through traffic jams of vehicles of all description including livestock. The cattle wander aimlessly along the roads searching for food which they find with regularity because of the generosity of the people. Cattle are sacred here and are revered. Most have adopted wandering alongside traffic as opposed to against it. Eventually we left the city behind and reached Fathe Pur Sikari, one of the ancient capitals of the region. It was here Akhbar III or The Great lived. The whole city was built from red limestone and covered a vast area. He had three wives, one Muslim, one Hindu and one Christian. He didn’t convert the Hindi or Christian wife to Islam but attempted to unify the three faiths. The new philosophy wasn’t continued after his death and one must wonder what type of world we would be living in today if he had been successful. From this palace we drove on to Chandler Bapri Stepwell. Attempting to describe these steps and the architecture would require several photographs and pages of writing. The stepwell was built in the 9th. century. Our civilisation in western Europe was surviving in mud huts at this time! Once we had left we set off for Jaipur, arriving at our hotel at 7:00, a heritage hotel with wonderful rooms. The entertainment was provided by puppeteers, a charming family of father, the seventh in line in his family of puppeteers and his three sons. Jaipur is known as the pink city, pink being the colour of welcome. The buildings in the old city have to be repainted pink every few years. The new part to the city does not have to conform. This first morning here we visited the Amber City spanning a huge hill. It was a fortress surrounded by other mountains and this particular week was being used a set for a Bollywood film. Jeeps carried us to the fort base from where we walked to the first courtyard. Here the film extras were gathered waiting patiently for directors to usher them into position. There are several courtyards inside the vast fort each one full with tourists and visitors. After travelling back to the bus we reached the Water Palace. A grand palace, now a hotel built in the middle of a lake. From here we drove to a restaurant for our lunch. The early part of the afternoon was spent at a textile shops where we attempted Block Printing before buying some goods. A well-earned rest before a cinematic treat was very welcome. This was an experience not to be missed. The cinema was full and as soon as the lights dimmed the national anthem was played; everyone was expected to stand. The film began and the audience cheered whenever a top star appeared on the screen. Although there were no subtitles the storyline was relatively easy to follow with the odd English phrase thrown in. It was old fashion slapstick, escapism at its best. After leaving the cinema a fleet of Tuk Tuks took us to a restaurant where the food was exceptionally tasty. A local dancer and her backing band entertained us afterwards and audience participation was encouraged. Jenny joined them to both dance and play the harmonium. An 8:15 start the following morning took us to our next visit, the home of Ranje & Keran Singh. Ranje spoke to us about many Hindu philosophies, primarily relaxation. Afterwards we visited the Jaipur Royal Palace. Each state has its own royal family but this more title than power. Royalty still retains a level of influence however but with the accent on benevolence. It does not have the power to officially endorse new laws. The Palace contains a textile museum with displays of past rulers’ costumes and paintings of past royal family members including the last Viceroy of India, Lord Mountbatten. After passing the Palace of the Wind at which we failed to stop due to heavy traffic we finally left Jaipur and on to the small village of Sawarda to stay at the Sawarda Fort Hotel. After settling in to our rooms we were taken around the village where we met many local residents. People came out of their houses to greet us, children waved at us, all with welcoming smiles, proud of their community. A potter demonstrated how he made small oil lamps on the most basic of wheels. We visited Hindu temple dedicated to Ganesh the elephant god located next to a Jain temple. We were also invited in to a classroom to witness teenagers being taught the physical elements of electrical circuitry. Towards the end of the walk we were privileged to witness a wedding procession, passing first the bride’s house and finally the groom’s. This was a riotous affair with a land rover heading the procession playing music from a PA system any DJ would have been delighted to own. This was dancing at its best and most enthusiastic. Drinks were served on the rooftop veranda prior to eating; there was even the mandatory gin and tonic for Jenny. Bed was a welcome distraction after a busy day. We were up by 6:30 to see the dawn sun rising behind the hotel. After breakfast we set off to Delhi stopping at two places for snacks and lunch, arriving in the Piccadilly at 4:00pm. A shower was very welcome. We left our hotel at 4:30 am to take an early morning flight to Kolkata. Seats on the 737 were allocated at random but the two hour flight passed quickly; so quickly, tea could not be served. Fair play the pilot made the excuse there was too much turbulence to pour the beverages safely! After arriving at our hotel we unpacked and walked along the busy streets to find a restaurant for our lunch. Street food was being served all along the route but we declined at this instance, wishing to sit away from the traffic. There is still a British influence here and we took a taxi to the Victoria Memorial building now a museum that highlights the British history in India having made Calcutta its capital. We took a taxi back to the hotel and we were relieved to arrive. I can safely say (definitely not the correct adverb to use) the taxi driver was the maddest driver I’ve ever encountered. Kolkata’s drivers are crazy but he was the worst. We stayed in the hotel that night. Leaving behind a fascinating week of travelling by bus to wondrous locations in North India, we travelled the short distance from our hotel the river Ganges, the Ganga as it called in West Bengal. Strictly speaking this part of the holy river is the Hooghly, a large tributary of the Ganges. After boarding the Veruna riverboat we were guided to our cabins, aesthetically charming and decorated throughout in wood. We welcomed the opportunity to unpack our cases to rearrange our clothes and after an introductory meeting we set off up river at 10:00 a.m. The iconic cantilever bridge that connects the railway station to the rest of the city appeared in front of us. As we passed underneath we saw many pedestrians gazing down at us arms extending to wave us on our way. We motored upriver and arrived at Barrakapore an hour and a half later. The tender took us ashore and we walked through the rural setting in which the town with a population of 40,000 is set. It is the home of a military base that covers a wide area and evidence of its presence is everywhere. We passed a school with the inspirational name to encourage aspiration ‘Future Laureate Academy’. After returning to take lunch we were able to relax for an hour or so. Later we visited the town of Chandanagra. This area of West Bengal was heavily influenced by the French. We visited a Roman Catholic Church; also in this district there were Hindu and Muslim artefacts. We returned to our ship to shower before dinner. As this region is in the same time zone as Delhi but six hundred miles east it becomes dark by 5:00 pm. The following day we sailed upriver for Chinsura and after going ashore we were taken by cycle rickshaw to see the Dutch cemetery. This covers a large area but its main features are the large obelisks to mark the graves of former inhabitants of European expansion in the area. From there we cycled to Imambara, a Shia mosque in the process of renovation. Its immense courtyard can welcome over a thousand worshipers and extensive work is being carried out by the Indian Heritage Department. As this building is on the bank of the river, returning to our ship required a short walk to the tender to return us to our ship. The remainder of the day was spent travelling upriver to Shantipur, a distance of 61 km. As we continued our journey we witnessed celebrations where people bathed en mass at the ghats by the side of the river. As the Hooghly river has a limited amount of traffic, scores of fishermen wait patiently on their small boats having cast their nets, hoping their efforts are not in vain. After berthing for the night at Shantipur we continued to Kalna, where we took electric rickshaws to visit the unique Shiva temple encircled by 108 individual shrines. In this town we also saw some of Bengal’s most attractive terracotta temples. Here we had a detailed talk regarding the discovery/introduction of the number 0 by Indian mathematicians. Think what you couldn’t do without using zero. Add up to 10 for one thing. You’re probably wondering where this conversation is heading aren’t you? A concentric shape is the same as the number zero. Maths comes into everything! We walked back to the ship through the fish and chicken market. This was crowded with customers and stalls and dead animals. It seems the Hindu vegetarianism is centred around western and central India. Mind you we are enjoying the vegetarian food on offer. Passing through the town we also witnessed groups of children playing India’s favourite game – cricket. After reaching the ship it set off for Matiari.. The afternoon was spent relaxing and watching the countryside roll by. (Due to poor internet connection in the rural areas it was difficult to upload photos.) As we travelled up river we passed the Hare Krishna temple, the largest in this region of India. For part of the afternoon our cook gave a cookery demonstration complete with a chicken curry recipe and tasting. Now I know where I have been going wrong! Maybe we shall forgo our adherence to vegetarian cuisine, just for one night. We continued travelling up river after dark as we had to cover over 100 km. I can’t wait for our dinner, the rumour is that it could be chicken curry. Arriving after breakfast, we visited the village’s cottage industries. The first we saw was the building where mustard oil was made. Bengali food is invariably cooked using this oil. Afterwards we were taken to a house where scrap metal was collected to be smelted and shaped into ornaments and utensils of various types, shapes and sizes; each one created with precision and care. The livelihood of the people we met depended on the success of their cottage industries. We were impressed with the determination shown to make a success of their lives. On our return to the ship we were entertained by a group of local folk musicians playing traditional music of the region. Most of the instruments were unfamiliar but we were invited to try our hands at playing them. Our success with some was debatable. After lunch we went ashore again to visit Plassey; the scene of the battle between Robert Clive and Siraj ud Daulah in 1757. Clive’s victory ensured Britain’s dominance in the area. After walking through the village and surrounding countryside we returned to our ship to set sail upriver a distance of nearly 100 km. The following morning we boarded the tender boat to take us to Khushbagh, a peaceful Moghul style garden enclosing the tombs of Siraj-ud-Daulah and his family. His defeat at Plassey changed the course of Indian history. After boarding our ship we travelled further upriver for Hazarduari Palace, one of the ancient capitals of Bengal. Here we disembarked and walked along the stall laden street towards the museum, an imposing ‘Georgian’ styled building unlike any traditional Moghul or Hindu construction. On display were many European paintings which outnumbered Indian artwork. The British influence was making itself apparent on a large scale. After lunch on the boat we took a bus to visit the Katra Mosque and the Nashipara and Katgola palaces. Before returning to the ship we were given free time to explore Hazarduari shopping centre. After dinner we were entertained by a young magician whose illusions were as impressive as most we see on the television. After his act ended I was asked to entertain the passengers with a guitar one of the crew had obtained from a relation in the town. The following morning we went ashore at 7:00 before breakfast to see the village of Baranagar. Several temples can be found here but the most important part of the visit in my mind was to a small school run by Kalyan Mandal, a young man who wishes to teach the children of the surrounding area to master English. Although the language is the second most widely spoken in India, it isn’t taught in many state schools. The school is supported by the boat company and welcomes additional support by the tourists who visit it. We spoke to several pupils and their aspirations are to be commended. The remainder of the morning was spent relaxing on the ship but after lunch we visited Mirzapur, a village where silk weaving takes place in a large number of houses. The welcome by the children as we both landed and departed was enthusiastic to the point of hysterical, many wanting to ‘high five’ us. Once we returned to the ship we set off for Farakka, our last port of call on the Varuna ship. From here we travelled by bus to reach the ruined city of Gour, crossing the only bridge for miles that crossed the Ganges. At this point the river itself is nearly two miles wide. The bridge is so busy it cannot be closed for repairs, consequently the road is covered with deep ruts and potholes limiting a hasty crossing. The road is one of the main routes to Bangladesh and as we approached the border, lines stretching miles of lorries were parked along the road loaded with hard-core and construction materials for road improvements waiting to cross into the neighbouring country. Once we reached our destination we were taken around the various ruined buildings which in their heyday would have majestic. The buildings were immense with covered gateways high enough for elephants carrying their princes to pass safely underneath. We returned to our ship for the last night on board before our return to Kolkata by train. Friday 10th. November, it is our last morning on board the Varana or Sukapha to use its original name. Our cases were transported across the river to the buses to await our final journey in this last town. We arrived at the railway station to take the train back to Kolkata, that busy, crowded, crazy city of over sixteen million inhabitants. After half an hour our train arrived but we had little time to board. The staff from the boat who had accompanied us with our luggage loaded the carriage in the little allocated time as we queued by another carriage door eager to board before the train began to pull away from the platform. The journey took a little over four hours and we were fed on board. On our arrival we made our farewells to those who were making the journey to other places while we who had planned to travel to the airport continued by bus across the city where traffic of every description whether it be on foot or wheel makes its presence felt, weaving in and out of others paths carrying loads of every description to a destination that can take both minutes and hours. We had planned to stay at a hotel near the airport, in preparation for our flight the following morning. We turned in early in preparation for a 6:30 start. After a comfortable night in the Holiday Inn in Kolkata we were ready for a taxi transfer to the airport. Unsure if our links would co-ordinate effectively we approached the Air India desk at 7:00 assuming the three hour check in would be sufficient for a seamless transfer at Delhi. As the hopes and fears unfolded we realised the transfer might not go as smoothly as we’d hoped. First of all the staff member at the desk stated we’d need to check our baggage at Delhi before we could receive another boarding card for the Virgin/Atlantic flight to Heathrow. With slightly less than two hours for our change of airlines we wondered if we’d make it on time for our homeward bound flight. The consequences of missing this weighed heavily upon us. Finding another hotel for the night in Delhi, cancelling the Heathrow hotel, and rearranging the train journey to West Wales were the three that sprang to mind. There were probably more but we didn’t want to think any further than these. We set off from Kolkata airport ten minutes late and to compound matters as we approached the stated arrival time we were informed the airport was exceptionally busy and we’d have to circle around until a vacant spot for landing became available. We managed to convince one of the stewardesses to move us closer to the front of the aeroaeroplane and sat in anticipation . The smog surrounding the city meant the airport wasn’t visible through the windows and we only realised we’d landed by feeling the impact as we hit the ground. As the aeroplane taxied towards the airport we left our seats to make for the door. As soon as we stopped and the door opened we rushed up the exit corridor and ran towards the international transfer gate. This took an age and a day and we were eventually directed towards the immigration desk where our passports had to be checked as we’d arrived on a domestic flight. We were then told to go towards the exit so we ran towards the lift to take us to the correct floor where we could find the Virgin desk. Here we collected our new boarding cards and pushed our way through ‘security’ making excuses we were in danger of missing our link. Running through the duty free shop we found the gate for our aeroaeroplane. Passengers were already boarding and we finally stopped after joining the queue. It had taken us an hour to finally reach our aeroplane home. We set off on time at 2:00. Richard Branson was not going to wait. We sat and hoped our luggage would be transferred from the Air India aeroplane. That revelation would have to wait until we arrive at Heathrow. Having left India and the largest airport I’ve seen I can only state that our hosts, fellow passengers and staff at Delhi airport were the most helpful and considerate I’ve met. The long journey home had begun. On our eight hour flight home I had the privilege of watching a ‘The Viceroy’s House’ based on the book ‘Freedom at Midnight’. It covers the subject of the partition of India in 1947. The film was produced by the grand-daughter of a lady, the victim of the diaspora. I’ve now bought the book to compare with the theme of the film.) Thank you Betsy for the recommendation. I am returning from the ‘beautiful mess’ as described by one of our new friends from Rajasthan, but when one has experienced the country one easily becomes attached to it; For us it gets into the blood. We left the aeroplane anticipating we’d be returning home with just our cabin bags however we stood and waited with more hope than expectation at the carousel for the hold baggage to appear. Ten minutes went by and some cases continued to appear a second and third time but there was no sign of ours. The number of cases began to diminish and we began to lose hope when all of a sudden they appeared from behind the skirting. Both delighted and surprised we left the airport and took a taxi to our hotel to stay for one night before the train journey home the following day.