Day 10 - Rishikesh

It's the last day today! I've been for a last wander and Hare Om'd all the sadhus, and done a few chores like get an Indian sim card for my phone, booked a hotel in Delhi and picked up my train ticket.

My yoga lesson yesterday involved handstands, a five-minute headstand, and shoulderstand with about a million variations. Far too much upside-downing for me! So tonight I'm going to give my poor, tortured body a rest and skip my yoga lesson. Instead I'll watch the sunset from my balcony, or maybe walk down to the Ganges to watch the evening prayers.

But now I'm going to attempt to do the one thing I haven't managed yet - find the beatles ashram! After some asking around I have received more precise directions and so hopefully it shouldn't be so difficult to find (famous last words)

Later:
Yaay - I've found it! What a mission. I almost gave up when I asked Navi (internet-lad) where it was and he gave me completely different directions, but then I decided sod it - I was going to bloody well find it.

I followed the original directions, and walked along the Ganga in a northerly direction. I cleared the swargashram area and continued through abandoned buildings, with the odd cow and mangy dog mooching around. Eventually I reached a path through weeds and bushes, and was about to give up when I spotted an amusing sign promising the Ashram to be 100m ahead! (It also pointed out that the Last Chance Cafe had good vibrations - see picture below)

I had to pick my way through Sadhus to get to the gate, which looked locked and had a NO ENTRY sign, but luckily a Swedish couple were just leaving, and slyly told me the gate was unlocked. Feeling like a rebel, I crept inside the creaky metal gate, and along the slippery, overgrown path that snaked up, through trees and pebble dashed huts, to the main area. On the right there was yet more huts, and as I picked my way through, I found hut number 11, where John and Cynthia Lennon reportedly practiced their transcendental meditation. The place was crumbling and in decay, and there was complete silence but for the chirrup of the crickets and the bird song. It was completely surreal, and felt more like a scene in Myst (computer game - teen addiction!) than real life. Below are pictures - hover the mouse over them for descriptions.

Day 9 - Rishikesh

It's the 31st of august today... which is, urm, thursday (the days all blur into one here) this means I have only today and tomorrow left in Rishikesh, and then the long and tedious journey back to Delhi to look forward to! (Bus-Train-Rickshaw)


I join my tour on the 3rd September where ensues a manic 22-day tour of Northern India in the company of 13 strangers. (Our route is shown above)

Until then I will continue with my relaxed routine in Rishikesh. I'll admit to having become somewhat of a regular at the Little Italy restaurant below the hotel, and enjoy speedy speedy service with a smile - something that is very rare from the grumpy head waiter (I like to think it is my friendly manner, but it is more likely the generous tips). I enjoy going there because of the delicious food, but it is also a great place to watch people and meet other travellers. Yesterday I met an insomniac pole who was lamenting the knack of nightlife ("they all go to bed at 10 because they wake up before dawn" I told him, and with this he shuddered visibly, and admitted that was usually when he went to sleep).

I'm also a regular at the little internet cafe by the hotel, and friends with the music-crazy lad that works there - I share my mp3 player so he can boogy away as I write, and he, in return, gives me all the gossip and points out the large lady that always checks her backside in the cafe's reflective window as she goes past every day - much to his amusement.

Today my legs ache. Under the stern eye of the yoga teacher I was able to get into Padmasana or lotus (right) for the first time in ages. But it did not end there - he then had us stay in it for what seemed an eternity whist we did other variations. My legs did not like, and this morning they paid me back - I'm walking like a knackered mule.

Day 8 - Rishikesh

Another day, another futile search for an elusive place mentioned in lonely planet.

I started off the day by visiting the Hotel Great Ganga, aall the way over the river, for breakfast in their posh, air conditioned cafe with views of the rushing Ganga.
Unfortunately the day was sunny, and I had forgotton to put on suncream, so my face erupted in freckles (niiice).

Afterward I bought a cheap camera and, slightly embarrassed by my touristness, I wondered back to the hotel, taking a few snaps as I went. I chickened out of asking the crazy snakelady for a picture, although the poor thing was probably doped out on opium (the snake, not the lady). Luckily I have found picture on t'internet for your viewing pleasure (left)

Anyway, after I got bored of taking pictues I decided to attempt to find the ashram the beatles stayed in. It was not, as I've originally been told, the swarg ashram, but in fact the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi Ashram. The ashram of pebble-dashed huts and buildings is abandoned and decaying after the organisation decamped to Holland, so it's location was not mentioned in the lonely planet. However I asked one of the crazy american ladies, who said I had to "walk about a km along the ganges" but didn't say which way before doddering off - it's needless to say that I spent half an hour walking in the wrong direction! Sigh - try again tomorrow.

And, to complete my cycle of dopishness (these things come in threes you know), I returned to my room to discover that I had dyed my favourite white top light blue after leaving it in to soak it with a new scarf. Rats. However this did have the side effect of making the existing splodges of pink (achieved by walking in the rain with a new maroon wrap on) a more attractive shade of violet.

Day 7 - Rishikesh

Today I got up at 6.30am with the best intentions. Last night, when dining in Little Italy (the restaurant below the hotel - which serves most excellent pizzas btw) I bumped into a german woman, Christina, who is taking yoga lessons in the yoga room in the next hotelalong. Hurrah. After days of trailing round ashrams and yoga halls only to be told "No yoga madam" - I've finally found a class. And I checked - the yoga teacher, unlike my last one, is not also the owner of the hotel.

So at 8.30, so dashed out of my hotel and into Raj Palace in my somewhat revealing yoga clothing carefully draped with one of my many wraps, and sat down in reception and waited for the other yoga students to come. No one came.
After some minutes the young desk clerk approached apoligetically "No yoga this morning madam". Raaah.
So, instead I spend most of the day reading on the balcony, occassionally interrupted by the Israeli girls sunbathing in their bikinis - more precisely the steady stream of 'workmen' come to check the flowerpots or scare off the monkeys (i.e. goggle at the girls in their scandelous clothing)

This evening I am meeting Christina for the 5.30 yoga class with the fille-gross teacher (think that means he's buff). There are apparently are quite few people who go to the class - it's always good to make new friends!

Update:
Fille-gross (or however you spell it) sadly does not mean buff - it must mean skinny. The young yoga teacher is a human elastic band without an ounce of fat on him, anywhere.
Happily he is a very good (if slightly demanding) teacher, and he excells especially in demonstrations - where he shows a talent of being able to move each muscle individually, and astonishingly flexible ankles (he could probably get into press-up position with feet flat on the floor!).
And the cost of a 2-hr, expert lesson in a 3 person group? (myself, Christina and Alice from Paraguay) It is a mere 50R (about 65p).

Right: Adho Mukha Svasana, also known as downward facing dog - which I had to do about a gazillion times, ouch my poor arms. We also practiced standing up straight for about 20 minutes ("dese arre really de hard postures, yaah, you practice practice")

Day 6 - Rishikesh

I've up and moved downtown, I'm now in a (slightly grotty) room in the Green Hotel in the swarg ashram area (next to the Ram Jhula bridge). It's less of the backpackers chillout and more of the busy, but friendly, little area full of stalls. The post office is nearby, so I can finally send my postcards!

Today there are no clouds, and the sun is beating down, so I've been spending most of my times in cafes reading or on the internet. In between times , I have wondered about the swarg ashram area dodging the sadhus, the lady with the python, and the guy who determinedly tries to sell me bindis every time I pass. When I'm not pacing quickly away from crazy people, I've developed a relaxed, slug-slow walk that enables me to get places without turning into a hot mess (unfortunately there are quite a number of crazy people around, so it's not much help).

Below are a couple of pictures I took on the balcony of swiss cottage this morning. Internet connection is hideously slow here, so I am thinking of buying a normal camera and sending the photos home.

Day 5 - Rishikesh

It's my third day in Rishikesh, and already it feels like home. The waiters in the cafe in front of the hostel all know my name, although it still takes about twenty minutes for my ginger, lemon and honey drink to arrive.
Today I walked to the Ram Jhula bridge to renew my efforts to find the Madras cafe, and hopefully find the famous Swarg Ashram, where the beatles and their prospective partners hung out in 1968 with Maharish Mahesh Yogi (right). After some to-and-froing I eventually found the steps leading down to the bridge, and, weaving my way through the begging sadhus, I ventured onto the (slightly swaying) bridge. About 5 monkeys watched me from the rails of a bridge, and one tiny one waved at me - so cute!

On the way across a family of Bengali tourists asked me for a family photograph I agreed, somewhat puzzled as to why they would want a picture of themselves with a sweaty, red faced English girl, and they all crowded round me in delight, much to the irritation of the other people trying to pass by.

The other side was full of little shops selling bracelets, beads and other items. I browsed for a while, then went in search of the Green hotel, where I had heard that a good yoga class was held. Unfortunaly no yoga classes - but the double rooms were nice and half the price of the Swiss Cottage. On my way back to the bridge I bumped into Marius, a german traveller I had met in Haridwar, it turned out that he was staying in the hotel next to the one I had just visited, and was also in search of a yoga class. We decided to go for breakfast, and he led the way to a restaurant called Chotiwallah (means "fellow with small tuft of hair" apparantly - and the rotund manager was sitting outside dressed as aformentioned person). Unfortunately, though the food was cheap and looked yummy, it was not really breakfast stuff. I slyly requested a visit to the Madras cafe, and yeees - Marius knew where it was - success!!

The cafe was the other side of the bridge, and the yogurt and fresh fruit I ordered was yummy. Marius was travelling into the jungle, and asked if I wanted to go too, but I declined - visions of me soaked in sweat, bitten to death and being slapped around by wet trees stuck in my mind. We arranged to meet later to watch the sunset prayers held on the Ghats, but at 4 o'clock the sky grew grey and the rains came big time.

It is pissing it down still, so I shall spend the evening in the cafe reading my book.

Right: The cafe (from my window), rain is causing connection problems with uploading piccies - more to follow!