June 14 Day 119
We woke up one our own but still headed out early, planning on walking the ghats to the end. It was already busy at the main one but thinned out as we headed south, occasionally coming across groups of swimmers or the continuous offer of "boat, sir?". There weer some variations and the less popular ghats tended to leave sand between the last step and the river. many sweepers weer out in their government vests and we figured that the ghats would be much dirtier without them.
It took about 35 minutes to get to Assi Ghat, the last of them. Beyond that, you could see a few rows of steps far from the water which gradually turned to dirt and paths. this was a more active ghat than we had seen in awhile, with many swimmers and boats, including a large gold one with a shiny mermaid on its bow.
We headed inland in search of breakfast and saw a sign for the Brown Bread Bakery's sister cafes. We began to lose faith after awhile, but saw a sign pointing down an alley for a guidebook recommended place. That place was closed for May and June so we headed back and took another street and saw a series of cafes, including another recommended in our guidebook which was actually open.
This street was very different from ones we have seen. It had a little park with kids playing and was wide and fairly quiet with a sense of air and space that was rare in Varanasi. The cafe had a nice spot but was unable to get us coffee right away because of a power failure. The rest of the breakfast was available so we ate with tea and had coffees later while enjoying a view of the street from their shaded balcony. I was surprise by how many people looked up at us as they walked by as usually from elevated patios you never get a stare from anyone, their eyes are straight ahead.
On the way out Meg got some postcards form their shop which was supposed to support some kind of charity. To avoid another long walk in the now hot sun, we asked the guy at the shop how much a tuktuk to the main ghat would cost, he said 20 rupees per person. Two tuktuk guys insisted it was 100 and wouldn't accept our offer of 50, saying the 20 was "Indian price". A cyclo guy said he'd take 50, so off we went.
SO how do we feel about cyclos? It's hard work in the hot sun but he wanted our business and has to make a living at it. The cart wa narrow and uncomfortable, with a low roof and a forward-slanting seat. He often had to stand on the pedals and walked the cyclo when there was an incline. Maybe we should always take these to support the drivers or is it inhumane in 42 degree heat?
At the end he could only go a certain distance as there was a gate blocking off the road. We gave him a good tip and walked the rest of the way to the ghat. As we walked, other cyclos and tuktuks buzzed by us and we wondered if he didn't want to take us any further of if you needed some special permit to drive in that market area. Either way, between his ride and the 10 minute walk to our hotel from the drop off point, it would have been quicker if we had walked the same way back, but it also would have been much hotter.
We made it back and ordered some soda and juice form our regular waiter, who was surprised that we didn't ask for any food. We cooled off, read, did stuff in the room and the courtyard and had a nice lunch using the bread we had bought the day before.
I was outside typing while Meg was doing her exercises where I felt a pull on the bench i was sitting on. i looked to see a monkey half my size sitting next to me. Our guidebook warned us to be careful of them, as when they stayed there one ran off with a piece of someone's skin in its mouth. I got up and moved away from it, keeping the laptop between us and backing away. It opened its mouth but didn't make any moves and a security guy shooed it away while I returned to our room.
Meg went out and navigated the streets to drop off laundry and try on saris while I rested. We headed out into the maze of streets are were able to find the fabric place where Meg picked up a shirt and sari. We then headed to Brown Bread but were told that the classical concert only happened in high season. We dined there anyway and it was dark when we headed out again.
The way back was more crowded, probably from people leaving the main ghat ceremony. We managed to find our way but had some problems when Meg had sympathy for someone who looked like she might have been disfigured by acid. She offered to buy a postcard but when the woman said they were $10 Meg said no and started to walk away. The woman followed us and pestered Meg for a long time and many requests to leave us alone. She finally laid off when we kept insisting but our energy was pretty tapped by then. We headed back to our room to sleep.
We woke up one our own but still headed out early, planning on walking the ghats to the end. It was already busy at the main one but thinned out as we headed south, occasionally coming across groups of swimmers or the continuous offer of "boat, sir?". There weer some variations and the less popular ghats tended to leave sand between the last step and the river. many sweepers weer out in their government vests and we figured that the ghats would be much dirtier without them.
It took about 35 minutes to get to Assi Ghat, the last of them. Beyond that, you could see a few rows of steps far from the water which gradually turned to dirt and paths. this was a more active ghat than we had seen in awhile, with many swimmers and boats, including a large gold one with a shiny mermaid on its bow.
We headed inland in search of breakfast and saw a sign for the Brown Bread Bakery's sister cafes. We began to lose faith after awhile, but saw a sign pointing down an alley for a guidebook recommended place. That place was closed for May and June so we headed back and took another street and saw a series of cafes, including another recommended in our guidebook which was actually open.
This street was very different from ones we have seen. It had a little park with kids playing and was wide and fairly quiet with a sense of air and space that was rare in Varanasi. The cafe had a nice spot but was unable to get us coffee right away because of a power failure. The rest of the breakfast was available so we ate with tea and had coffees later while enjoying a view of the street from their shaded balcony. I was surprise by how many people looked up at us as they walked by as usually from elevated patios you never get a stare from anyone, their eyes are straight ahead.
On the way out Meg got some postcards form their shop which was supposed to support some kind of charity. To avoid another long walk in the now hot sun, we asked the guy at the shop how much a tuktuk to the main ghat would cost, he said 20 rupees per person. Two tuktuk guys insisted it was 100 and wouldn't accept our offer of 50, saying the 20 was "Indian price". A cyclo guy said he'd take 50, so off we went.
SO how do we feel about cyclos? It's hard work in the hot sun but he wanted our business and has to make a living at it. The cart wa narrow and uncomfortable, with a low roof and a forward-slanting seat. He often had to stand on the pedals and walked the cyclo when there was an incline. Maybe we should always take these to support the drivers or is it inhumane in 42 degree heat?
At the end he could only go a certain distance as there was a gate blocking off the road. We gave him a good tip and walked the rest of the way to the ghat. As we walked, other cyclos and tuktuks buzzed by us and we wondered if he didn't want to take us any further of if you needed some special permit to drive in that market area. Either way, between his ride and the 10 minute walk to our hotel from the drop off point, it would have been quicker if we had walked the same way back, but it also would have been much hotter.
We made it back and ordered some soda and juice form our regular waiter, who was surprised that we didn't ask for any food. We cooled off, read, did stuff in the room and the courtyard and had a nice lunch using the bread we had bought the day before.
I was outside typing while Meg was doing her exercises where I felt a pull on the bench i was sitting on. i looked to see a monkey half my size sitting next to me. Our guidebook warned us to be careful of them, as when they stayed there one ran off with a piece of someone's skin in its mouth. I got up and moved away from it, keeping the laptop between us and backing away. It opened its mouth but didn't make any moves and a security guy shooed it away while I returned to our room.
Meg went out and navigated the streets to drop off laundry and try on saris while I rested. We headed out into the maze of streets are were able to find the fabric place where Meg picked up a shirt and sari. We then headed to Brown Bread but were told that the classical concert only happened in high season. We dined there anyway and it was dark when we headed out again.
The way back was more crowded, probably from people leaving the main ghat ceremony. We managed to find our way but had some problems when Meg had sympathy for someone who looked like she might have been disfigured by acid. She offered to buy a postcard but when the woman said they were $10 Meg said no and started to walk away. The woman followed us and pestered Meg for a long time and many requests to leave us alone. She finally laid off when we kept insisting but our energy was pretty tapped by then. We headed back to our room to sleep.
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| Artsy time! A bird on top of a bend roof decoration. |
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| Meg with our cyclo driver. |
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| The camel on the sandbar across from the ghats. |
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