Rishikesh

I sat cross legged, entranced by the repetitive rhythms of the tabla drum.  Behind me the Ganges River rushed by.  Gretchen sat beside me, staring into the quickly dimming night sky.  We were at a nightly puja, in one of the many ashrams of Rishikesh.  If this city sounds familiar it means you’re a Beatles fan, particularly the era from Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (one of my own personal favorites after the mighty White Album). 

Anyway, I should probably backtrack a bit, keeping these travelogues in sequence.   The last 24 hours had become quite a blur.  I will try and summarize quickly, but without missing the wonderful details.  We left Rajasthan and crossed through the incredibly populated state of Harayana and back into Delhi.  Our driver insisted on stopping for several road sodas, both before and after crossing the border into Harayana.  There was also a brief humbling layover at KP's (our driver) house.  We felt honored to meet his family.  His family of four occupies one bedroom, roughly 8x12ft in size, with one bed.  The kitchen is smaller then most Americans spare bedroom closet.  Nearly all of his life earnings go into paying for his two sons schooling.  In India schools aren’t really public, not in the free education we Americans are used to.  Even with some tuition subsidies, parents must still pay a large portion of entrance fees, grade level fees, purchase uniforms, and rent textbooks.  It all adds up, and leads to many children not getting beyond school after age 12 or 13.  At the rate which India is emerging and prospering in the world, they drastically need to improve education standards.  That was a bit of a tangent.  You can see education is becoming near and dear to my heart. 

We spent nearly two hours sitting in KP’s apartment.  His niece stopped to visit along with a couple other extended family members living nearby.  I got the impression he doesn’t always bring “work" home, so we were humbled by this experience.  It was a great way to share our own life in Alaska with them.  Gretchen's iPod had just enough battery life remaining to show a few pictures of our own home.  After a couple more beers, I got the impression we had over stayed our welcome, and insisted it was time to head to the train station.  I could tell from Mrs. KP, it was time for us to go.  Without sounding chauvinist, a lot of wives have similar body language in certain situations.  She began getting a little irritable with Mr. KP, and despite not understanding a word of Hindi, I could tell by the tone of her voice, and fast rate she was talking- we needed to leave.  More than anything, after being gone two weeks, I’m sure she just wanted some alone time.

From the suburbs of Delhi, we were delivered in the heart of the city at the train station.  After being led around India since our arrival for two weeks, we were on our own.  I was given strict orders not to talk to sneaky strangers at the train station.  I was also told catching trains from Delhi was easy.  One of these facts was true, the other a complete farce.  Over the course of three hours Gretchen and I beat ourselves up trying to figure out how the hell to get out of Delhi.  We had tickets.  Unfortunately we arrived after the special tourist depot office in the visitors center had closed.  I will spare the gory details for the sake of my own prudence.  But lets just say it included a lot of frustration, a couple unnecessary taxi rides back and forth between various train stations, a quick tour of the new subway system, and finally a leap of faith getting on what we believed to be “our train”.  

Upon finding our correct train car, and bunks, we nestled in for the 8 hour ride into the Himalayan foothills.  Like I mentioned before, our first two weeks were totally planned for us.  We didn’t have to worry about what hotels to stay in, or how we were getting from place to place.  KP knew all the best restaurants, and what times were best to visit palaces and museums.  So when we arrived in Haridwar at 4am we again had to figure things out.  Using my Rough Guide and map reading skills, we stumbled out of the train station and into the bus station.  Now, if catching a train was confusing, finding a bus was ten times harder.  After pacing back and forth around the Haridwar bus station for nearly three hours, we found our ride.  Rishikesh is only a 30 minute drive north from Haridwar.  Due to the rugged terrain travel at this point is only done by Car, Bus, or Jeep.  Some rickshaws can putter through the steep streets slowly.

Rishikesh is famous for local Hindu pilgrimages, many ashrams, of course the Beatles, and now Yoga.  It is also the launching point for a lot of trekking and rafting in the Himalaya.  

Rishikesh is separated by the roaring Ganges River.  After snaking through the foothills of the Himalaya, here it finally widens significantly before branching out across the Indian sub-continent to the sea.  We found a nice backpackers hotel across the river, foot traffic only.

Afternoon rains were common in this region.  The quick showers usually brought a nice drop in hot humid temperatures.

We spent a little less than two days in Rishikesh.  There weren’t real tourist sights to see.  Most of the temples were packed with people worshipping, not sight seeing.  But there was plenty of paths to walk  and alleys to explore.  We went to the evening pujas along the river, and met interesting people in the European coffee cafes.  Hearing the mountains calling, it was time to refit, and begin the second phase of our trip- the Himalaya.