Three and a half months passed unbelievably fast in Nepal. Before we knew it, Lucy and I had travelled together for six months without any issues, quite a feat I'd say. We were on exactly the same wavelength, wanting to learn as much as possible. We both surprised ourselves at how long we could spend together. I joked that we'd become husband and wife. We were sleeping in the same room, eating all of our meals together and doing nearly all of the same activities. We'd shared the highs, the lows and knew one another inside out, but alas it was time to move on, we needed to explore on our own and find our individual direction before it became a bit weird.
Lucy decided to stay at the farm for further study as she'd developed a strong interest in organic farming and development. I decided to return back to the motherland of India, this had been my intention all along as there is always more to see, do and experience there. I was excited to travel alone as it is more of an adventure and challenge - you never know what will surprise you next in India which is why I love it.
However, I'd be lying if I said that at this point I was completely happy. The farm was a brilliant experience, but I was at a low point, I was completely fed up......sick of being sick. On seven occasions since beingin Nepal I had experienced severe stomach problems, enough so to prevent me from leaving the vicinity of my bathroom for two, three,sometimes seven days in a row, most of these times I had to resort totaking antibiotics which I didn't like. My body felt absoloutely exhausted, despite my healthy life style of veg food, yoga and no alchol, which made it even more frustrating. I was beginning to wonder whether it was a sign that it was time to take the plunge and go home, afterall I'd been away nine months. But opportunities like this trip are rare, so I decided to persevere. Perhaps a fresh start in India out all alone would do me good.
Over the course of my trip I have become more concious of being an 'eco traveller', trying to minimise any negative impacts of my journey. This has included me investing in a SteriPen (a UV purifying pen which sterilises water so no need for buying plastic bottles), stopping buying loo roll (Euch? No - it is possible, using the Indian techniques!) and lastly avoiding flying at all costs. The latter is only possible because the rail network is so extensive, so cheap and now its easy to book seats online plus I don't have the excuse that I don't have the time to go the long way. That's not to say it's not a pain in the arse to avoid flying! My journey from the capital of Nepal to my next destination in Rishikesh (800km apart) wss spread over four days with a ridiculously oversized bag, guitar and yoga mat. I used nearly every form of transport available (train, bus, auto rickshaw, cycle rickshaw, taxi) and had to spend two seperat
e days waiting on train platforms for around 10 hours with people staring at me in a confused manner wondering how I could possibly be alone as a female and possibly play an instrument. I wore my Indian style outfit (a salwar kamise), which I think meant people generally left me alone. Looking back, it really was ridiculous, but I am still happy I did it, I had some nice moments of people giving me part of their lunch, buying me water and it's not every day you nearly get covered in urine because the woman infront of you on the bus lets her two year old wee out of the window.
Looking geeky in my Salwar Kamise which helps me to avoid attention in the crowds!
I was looking forward to my return to Rishikesh, the place in which everything felt like a dream land earlier in my trip, so many different ways of thinking, a great place for exploring body and mind. In my head I had decided that two weeks of intensive yoga practice would be good for my health and I'd also learn alot, I was already familiar with Rishikesh so it eased me into being alone. But as I reached half way in my journey I started to notice that something wasn't normal. Each station I passed, there seemed to be people lying around on big plastic sheets (this is normal), yet they were dressed in bright orange, chattering merrily away. The crowds grew bigger the closer I got to Rishikesh and were completely male dominated, mainly aged 18 - 40 years.
Little did I know we were heading to exactly the same destination. As I entered Rishikesh, some enquiries quickly confirmed that I'd come at the time of the Shiva pilgrimage where Hindus, particularly from the Northern states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar (somewhat poorer than other states) come to Rishikesh, or nearby Haridwar to perform prayers (puja) and bathe in the holy Ganges, around end July. Often for one direction of their journey they must travel all by foot and you see them holding small plastic containers in which they collect Ganga water, which once collected may not be put down on the floor as it is sacred and is kept for future use as it is seen as very holy.
A pilgrimage may conjur images of peaceful, respecful pilgrims, but as this is India, you can turn any expectation on its head. My dreamy traveller, hippy paradise had been transformed by rowdy, ladish men who behaved more like teenagers. The place had an atmosphere I can only describe as a mix between a lads holiday in Ibiza and the testosterone driven hoardes at a football match. It was so strange, just walking down the street became a huge task as they were flooded with orange clad men who would whip out their camera phones at the sight of you and walked along shouting loudly 'Praise Shiva' (but in Hindi). This very quickly became tiresome and exhausting.
Orange clad Shiva pilgrims making lots of noise at the side of the Holy Ganga
The river Ganges had risen greatly and the first few days the rain didn't stop, monsoon was on its way. No longer was the river beautiful and serenene, I couldn't sit at the water without being hassled, though the festival was interesting to have encountered, from the safety of the balcony. I felt like the pilgrimage was more of an excuse for a lads holiday. I decided that it would be good to get started with my yoga and looked up the teacher I'd held in such high esteem before I left. As the season was so low, it became not unusual for me to be the only student so I got real one to to tuition. What a good student can only dream of - unless your teacher is a complete slave driver, sado masachist.
It emerged that the Ashtanga yoga style that I was learning about was just too much for me. My interpretation of yoga is that it should challenge your body, but also make you feel relaxed and that over time you can develop how far your body can move in the asanas (poses) as you learn the right breathing technique. But this guy just wanted to push my body to the limits. I'd go as far as possible in an asana, then he would push my body even further. Yes I can put my head on my knees, when he forces it, but it felt so un natural and I just wasn't enjoying it any more. Plus his adjustment technique was so borderline intrusive. Who I'd originally trusted I slowly lost respect for. I've learnt finding a good yoga teacher in India is ridiculously difficult, most are just slightly perverted and don't really know about yoga, my best teachers have all been Westerners.
There wasn't much in the way of company in Rishikesh either. I met a 40 year old Spanish man who was working in a city nearby on a computer project who became scarily obsessed with me after spending just one morning together. I showed him some temples and local sights whcih he just hadn't even bothered to explore. When he asked if he could hug me, in the middle of the street with so many Indians, I just wanted to hit him around the head. Aside from the fact that I didn't want to hug him anyway, I was completely bemused that he had been in India 6 months and didn't know that it is really rude and disrespectful for men and women to have any physical contact in public, especially in a holy place. What was this man thinking? Needless to say I 'lost' his email address. The atmosphere in Rishikesh had been the complete opposite of the last time I was there and after one week, I knew that it just wasn't going to work out, too many strange experiences in a short space of time!
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