Being in India is like tripping on acid at the world's largest never-ending carnival, where everyone around you is an overexcited carnie, and the petting zoo's gates have been trampled. We arrived here after two Biman Bangladesh flights. First, from Yangon to Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh. We were put up in a hotel by the airline, along with everyone else going to Calcutta, and provided with meals. This was a very weird experience and provided us with our first glimpse of "Indian logic." The next morning we took a flight from Dhaka to Calcutta, the biggest city in India with 18 million people. India is immediately overwhelming. From the airport we were hurtled through traffic in an old Ambassador taxi. It was an 18 km drive and so gave us plenty of opportunity to gawk at India from a sheltered space. What did we see? Loads of garbage everywhere, being picked at by holy cows, and antique smoke-spewing buses made of tin that looked no stronger than a coke can.

Calcutta architecture

Calcutta was a bit much for us and we left the next evening for the holy city of Varanasi. It is a holy city because it is located on the banks of the River Ganges, the "mother" of India, and is considered to be one of the oldest cities in the world, at least 2000 years old. It is considered by Hindus to be a most auspicious place to die, because of the belief that dying here will remove you from the cruel cycle of death and rebirth, which normally takes many lifetimes of good karma to accomplish. The city has been built all the way to the banks of the river, and culminates in a series of ghats (steps leading into the river) extending in either direction for about 3 km. It is a fascinating place to visit, because all aspects of life, public and private, are performed on these ghats at all hours of day and night. We had a balcony overlooking a very popular bathing ghat. All day long you could step outside and see men in their underwear washing their sins away in the holy water. Other activities in view on the ghats were weddings, loads of laundry, daily yoga workouts, and of course plenty of animal activity. Mostly cows and goats, who aimlessly meandered among the ghats, munching on garbage and meditating, always getting the right of way. Our hotel was right downwind from Manikarnika Ghat, the "burning ghat." From our balcony we could see public cremations occuring all day long. We were told that around 70 bodies were burned there every day. The bodies are carried through the city on bamboo stretchers in pedestrian funeral processions. Once they arrive at the burning ghat, the cost of the funeral is calculated according to how much wood is needed for that particular body. After the fire dwindles away, the ashes and remains of the deceased are thrown into the River Ganges to finally meet with eternal peace.

Laundry ghat crossing, Varanasi

The city itself, beyond the river and its ghats, is also very fascinating. The streets are so narrow that they can't accomodate motor traffic, except for a few intrepid motorcyclists. They go up and down and all around, and we didn't venture much from our one well known route in fear of getting lost in the maze. Sometimes walking through these alleys we'd get trapped between the walls and the cows. Oh yes, and there are monkeys everywhere, jumping from building to tree, swinging around and jumping at tourists. They seemed to sense that tourists feared them, and a couple of times they would trap us in our room, which in fact, came with a good monkey-beating stick. They loved to scare Lauren as she read on the balcony, by jumping down on the top of the A/C unit right next to her head. After they got a good scream out of her, they'd scramble across the railing and jump head first into the tree two floors down.

Street, Varanasi

From Varanasi we took a train to New Delhi. The Indian train system deserves some mention. It is the largest employer in the world, and the tracks branch out all over the country. We ride in sleeper class, which is the cheapest class for overnight trains and is always packed with people. It almost feels like you are on your way to a concentration camp, as you are packed into a narrow, hard bunk, surrounded by fellow passengers with nothing to keep warm, looking out barred windows. Every so often a man with a rifle wanders down the aisle.

View from the Ganges

For Valentine's Day we bought each other a motorcycle. One, that is. Seriously. We are sick of public transportation and there are so many places we want to visit that aren't very accessible by bus or train. Anyway, we love the open road. Don't worry, we've got plenty of experience and traffic here travels at top speeds of about 40 km per hour. We bought our bike, a 350cc Indian made Royal Enfield, from a highly recommended and reputable mechanic. We spent days with them going over all parts of the bike, spare parts, and tools. We bought top of the line full face, convertible to open face, helmets. We have a luggage rack that holds one backpack on each side and a toolbox in the middle. Dads, you'd be proud. And Moms, there's nothing you can do about it cause we're half a world away!

This travelogue was originally published on TravelPod