Dawn at Varanasi and Delhi Farewell

Friday 4th

The last day of our Indian adventure begins with a 4:30am wake up call. We're going back down to the Ganges, this time at dawn, when thousands of worshippers come to immerse themselves as they face the rising sun. The streets are quiet as we walk with the devotees. Again we board a boat to observe the rituals from the water. A wide sandbank forms the eastern shore, and the sun rises over it, peeping through this morning's clouds.

Hindus from near and far plunge into the river - for some it's a daily ritual, for others it's a once in a lifetime pilgrimage. Wherever there are tourists, there are vendors, and this holy spot is no exception. Floating 'supermarkets' approach our boat - a final chance to buy those gifts for people back home!

As we walk back through the old streets of Varanasi, children clamber aboard rickshaws to begin their school day, and these elderly men enjoy reading the newspaper while they sit in the middle of the road.

After breakfast back at the Gateway Hotel (now busy with a conference of dignitaries), we have a couple of hours to relax, take a swim in the outdoor pool, or play croquet (!) before boarding a flight back to New Delhi. Creative Travel, our terrific local agents for the tour, have upgraded us to the Leela Kempinski, a cool, new hotel in the modern Gurgaon district near the airport, for the few hours that we'll have to wash, change and have dinner before our international flights. Then it's farewell to India - until next time.

Varanasi

Thursday 3rd

It's another early start to fly from Delhi for 24 hours in Varanasi to observe ancient Hindu rituals on the Ganges. After lunch at the Gateway Hotel, we drive to the outskirts of the city along a bumpy dirt road (new one is under construction) to a spot which is as sacred to Buddhists as the banks of the Ganges are to Hindus. Sarnath is where the Buddha, after attaining enlightment, came to deliver his first sermon, "All is Sorrow". It's a peaceful site of ruined temples and a memorial chorten, a Mecca for Buddhist monks and pilgrims, including many groups from Sri Lanka. Sarnath Museum houses the original column headed by four lions which became India's national symbol, and the most bewitching sculpture of the Buddha which I've ever seen - it has a Mona Lisa-like serenity. No photos allowed but there are plenty of replicas for sale from the street vendors outside!

Then it's on to the old heart of Varanasi to make our way down to the river. The bus drops us off to navigate the last half hour on bicycle rickshaws - a cacophonous ride through ever-thickening crowds of people, doing their daily shopping or heading like us for the ghats, the steps leading down to the River Ganges.

We leave the rickshaw drivers above the ghat, and make our way down among the throng of worshippers, flower sellers, other vendors and beggars. We board a fishing boat to observe the rituals from the water - first going downstream to the site of open-air funeral pyres, where many Hindus choose to cremate their dead. It's an extraordinary scene - a sacred ritual conducted in a very matter-of-fact way, amid piles of litter, grazing cattle and the family groups of mourners. Back at the main ghat, we moor among a small fleet of boats to watch Hindu priests perform the Aarti, a nightly sunset ritual, conducted under a canopy of bright lights to electrified chanting from a platform on the ghat. You'd have to see all of this several times to begin to appreciate it.

Delhi

Wednesday 2nd

Today beats expectations in many ways. We're a small group because some have gone off on a day trip to see the Taj Mahal in Agra, leaving eight of us to tour Delhi. Vijay Misra, a young guide with a masters in history, brings the city to life for us. We start out by walking around the monumental buildings designed by Edwin Lutyens a century ago to serve as India's capital - often considered the best (perhaps only good) legacy that the British left to India. The scale of the 1920s planned capital dwarfs the Washington Mall or London's Whitehall. We walk up to the stately gates of the President's residence, enjoying the misty, early morning air.

In stark contrast, we then plunge into the hurly-burly of old Delhi on foot, heading down Chandni Chowk, a street lined with houses of worship reflecting India's many faiths - a temple dedicated to the Hindu god, Shiva (people queuing around the block to enter, because today is Shiva's birthday), Jain and Buddhist temples, a mosque, and Christian churches. It's also a busy commercial thoroughfare, crowded with food vendors such as this. Soon we branch off into the narrow alleys which are the heart of old Delhi, each one home to specialist merchants and manufacturers - button vendors, printers, fabric sellers.

This young man is embroidering fabric for saris in a workshop off a courtyard that surely wouldn't meet US health and safety standards. We're in a quarter that has been home to Jain families for centuries - many are quite wealthy entrepreneurs, Vijay tells us, but choose to remain close to their temples and neighbors in these ancient alleyways.

Then it's on to lunch on Connaught Place, the huge commercial hub of New Delhi, at a restaurant where crispy leaves of spinach with tamarind sauce are a mouth-watering speciality.

After lunch we visit one of Delhi's most stunning sights, Humayun's Tomb, built in the mid-16th century by the widow of the second Mughal emperor. This sandstone and marble monument brought Persian style to Delhi in a magical combination of styles, a forerunner to the Taj Mahal. The complex houses not just Humayun's tomb but the resting places of numerous other Mughals, all set in tranquil gardens where parrots fly freely among the trees.

On the way back to the hotel, a couple of us make another brief stop at  Khan Market, and I find an antique silver box to take back to Mike. TIME's India bureau chief, Jyoti Thottam, stops by at Rick's Bar for an early evening drink and Viji, Vicki, Si and I have a fascinating conversation with her about life and reporting in India. Dinner is at the Taj's nouveau Indian restaurant, Vark - dramatic presentation of every dish, including this sorbet over dry ice. But after long days in Agra or touring Delhi, some of us are too tired to truly appreciate it...

Flying to Delhi

Tuesday, March 1st

After breakfast it's time to head back to India for the final leg of our trip. On the Druk Air flight to Delhi, we glimpse Mt. Everest in the distance, and I'm reminded again of the daredevil flights from India over the eastern Himalayas which provided a lifeline to China during World War II.

Our itinerary says the day has been left largely unplanned - that actually means it's a shopping opportunity! After landing in New Delhi, Viji and Janet take us to Khan Market, where they recommend the best jewelers, clothing, and home accessories stores. During a frenzied hour most of us pick up some great finds, and then it's on to the Taj Mahal hotel to check in. Some people venture out again to a crafts market, but I'm shopped out.

This Taj is a New Delhi icon, with expansive gardens, an outdoor pool and some of the best restaurants in the city. Tonight, we sample fine Chinese food at the House of Ming, and late night drinks at Rick's Bar, a famous gathering place.

Taktshang Goemba

Monday 28th

Today's destination, Taktshang Goemba or Tiger's Nest Monastery, is perched on a sheer cliff at an altitude of 10,240 feet. We'll be climbing some 2,000 feet from the trailhead to reach it. It's a clear blue sky, cool morning, perfect for the hike. Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche, who converted the king to Buddhism in the 8th century, flew to the inaccessible site on the back of a tigress to subdue a local demon, and meditated in a cave for three months.
This, and a 17th century visit by Bhutan's unifier, the Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, makes Taktshang one of the country's holiest places. The buildings were destroyed by fire in 1998, and restored with the help of local people (Chimi told us that each household had to contribute 3 months' labor), and a temporary cable lift to carry supplies. There was some debate about keeping the lift to transport visitors up the mountain, but it was removed, and the only way up is on foot (or on horseback to the midway teahouse).

All but two of our group embark on the hike, climbing up a well kept trail through blue pines for two hours (with plenty of stops) until we reach the teahouse.

This is far enough for three of the group, and a beautiful spot to stop and enjoy the views.

Eight of us carry on as the path gets steeper and we level with the monastery. It looks impossible to reach: it's on the far side of a ravine. Bob goes ahead and takes a wrong turn, ending up on a narrow ledge above a waterfall, and having to retrace his steps to rejoin the main path! Setting out down steep steps to cross the ravine, I feel as though there's not much between me and the valley floor, but Chimi leads us on. We cross a wooden bridge bedecked with prayer flags just below the waterfall, and then make the final ascent to the monastery. No photos allowed, but we can enter and contemplate the (locked) entrance to the cave where Guru Rinpoche meditated, and the amazing feat of building and rebuilding (more than once over the centuries) this extraordinary temple, still inhabited by a community of monks today.

The descent is punishing on knees and hips, but we have a tremendous sense of accomplishment at the end of a five hour adventure. Chimi has set up another of her famous picnics, which we enjoy in the woods surrounded by wandering cows.

Then it's back to Zhiwa Ling (with a trip into town for the most dedicated shoppers), and a colorful dance performance before our final, convivial evening in Bhutan.

Punakha to Paro

Sunday 27th

We have a long drive ahead on our little bus, to get all the way back to Paro from Punakha. But the glorious scenery makes up for the winding roads, and we reach Paro in time for a late lunch. Along the way we've stopped at a couple of immigration checkpoints - Bhutan likes to keep tabs on its foreign visitors - and seen a giant gold Buddha atop a hill near Thimphu. From a distance, this 169-foot monument looks as big as the Buddha which dominates the peaks of Lantau in Hong Kong, and in fact it's being funded by donations from Buddhists in Hong Kong and Singapore.

We're thrilled to reach the Zhiwa Ling Hotel, situated in a lovely valley outside Paro. 'To be worthy of such a setting, a hotel must be truly extraordinary', says the brochure, and indeed it is. It's the first wholly Bhutanese-owned luxury hotel, and it celebrates the kingdom's arts and crafts throughout. The architect, Peter Kampf, is from San Francisco and we happen to meet him over pre-dinner drinks. The hotel took over 3 years to build because the stonework and intricately decorated woodwork are all hand-carved. In deference to local tradition, there are no elevators, though some rooms are on the third floor! Most are in 'cottages' around the grounds, with balconies facing the mountain views. Advanced technology is combined with the traditional architecture - underfloor heating, and the best wireless network I've found for a week.

Soon after our arrival, we watch a demonstration of archery - the national sport - in the warm afternoon sun, and get to try our own skill with a bow and arrow. We don't do badly for beginners!

My roommate and I go for massages in the hotel spa - very welcome, but perhaps we should have waited until after tomorrow's planned hike to the Tiger's Nest Monastery! Tonight we have a gala dinner in a private dining room, and psych ourselves for the climb to Tiger's Nest.

Over the Dochula Pass to Punakha

Saturday 26th

The only road connecting the capital with central and eastern Bhutan is barely wide enough for two trucks to pass and climbs out of Thimphu in a series of hairpin bends to ascend the 3140m Dochula Pass. We reach the pass about 11am, and stop to marvel at breath-taking views of snow-covered Himalayan peaks in the distance. It's cold up here!

A graceful collection of 108 (an auspicious number) chortens rise above the pass. These were built by the Queen Mother in 2005 to atone for an incident when the Bhutanese army flushed out Assamese militants from the south of the country, and some lives were lost. This morning the chortens are dusted with fresh snow.

Just below the pass we stop at a tea house, and warm up with our cheerful guide, Chimi, by the wood-burning stove.

The road then descends towards the Punakha valley, and we enjoy the changing scenery. The high altitude oak, maple and blue pine gives way to a lush forest of hemlock, cypress and fir. We spot the delicate white flowers of daphne bushes, whose bark is used to make paper, tiny blue primula, and numerous rhododendron which will bloom in a couple of weeks.

On a peak across the valley we see an important Buddhist university, and below us are the terraces being cultivated by subsistence farmers. 

Chimi has insisted there will be no lunch today, to put us into the right (fasting) frame of mind to visit Bhutan's holiest temple, the Punakha Dzong, the winter home of the Thimphu monks. She has us completely fooled until we pull into a field beside a cool river (where we're to wash our feet!) and find a picnic laid out for us. A wonderful interlude before going on to visit the Dzong. It is another spectacular fortress/monastery, alive with young monks. They have some time off on Saturday afternoon and some are meandering by the river, washing their robes or relaxing in the grounds. But others are taking part in rituals in the temple, and this young monk is being admonished by the whip-bearing Dean of Discipline for being late to a service!

We drive another half hour beyond our night stop to see the Wangdu Phodrang Dzong, founded in 1638. It's one of the oldest monastic buildings, still with a wooden tile roof held down by stones, and is in the process of being restored with aid from the Indian government. It provides a nice contrast with the better kept larger dzongs, and here too it's very much alive with a community of young monks, such as this one enjoying a moment with his cell phone. Then we double back to the Damchen Resort, where our rooms overlook the river, and we're more than ready for dinner and a good night's sleep.

Thimphu

Friday 25th
We are fans of Save the Children, and thanks to the US headquarters I've made contact with Save's team in Bhutan in order to learn about their work out here. We begin the day with a discussion with Dorji Wangdi, STC's Program Coordinator in Thimphu. Our time together is all too brief, but Dorji gives us a great perspective on some of the tougher issues facing families here - access to schools from remote villages, building teacher capacity in rural areas, emerging youth troubles in towns, a generation gap (blamed partly on introducing TV into Bhutan 10 years ago). There are lots of good programs, but a reduced budget and staff since the recession hit fund-raising globally.
These Thimphu teenagers walk to and from school in their national-dress uniforms, carrying lunchboxes.

We have a very full day of sightseeing (and shopping!) ahead. We drive into the hills above town to get up close with Bhutan's national animal, the takin, a high-altitude breed which looks like a cross between a goat and a deer. Along the path through the preserve we're tempted by silk and cotton scarves woven by this family.

At a fifteenth century monastery with these huge prayer wheels we watch the monks blessing small children whose mothers have climbed up the long hill in the hope of cures for their ailments. This is often the first port of call before conventional medicine is tried, although health care is virtually free in Bhutan.

We're all intrigued by the Folk Heritage Museum - a restored wood and cob farmhouse, which shows how life was lived a century ago. With space for animals on the first floor, and the communal family bedroom on the fourth floor, this was vertical living with narrow ladders to climb up and down.

After lunch back at the hotel, we take a walk around the National Memorial Chorten, a large whitewashed memorial to the third king. We're in good company, for this is a spot where many of Thimphu's elderly gather to walk or just sit and socialize. 

At 4:30 (it's not open to visitors during the work day), we access the capital's most important building - Trashi Chhoe Dzong. This imposing fortress/monastery epitomizes the close connection between the Buddhist 'church' and state. It is both the seat of government, housing the offices of the king, the secretariat and some ministries, and the summer home of the spiritual head of the country: the Je Khempo. The chief monk is the only person other than the king to wear a saffron yellow scarf. He and a community of around 700 monks winter at lower altitude in Punakha, so there's only a skeleton crew in the Thimphu Dzong today. The Je Khempo's, and indeed the king's, power may be constrained since Bhutan became a constitutional democracy in 2008, but both figures are deeply revered. 

Trashi Chhoe Dzong is awesome: massive white walls and ancient towers, enormous courtyards, and sacred halls. 

Before a traditional Bhutanese dinner back at the hotel, the women of our group get dressed up in kira and toego. (Sadly the men in the party can't be persuaded to don the knee-length gho!)

Arrival in Bhutan

Thursday 24th

Could the red carpet at Paro airport be for us? Tellingly, it's not unfurled quite up to the door of our plane from Kolkata, but our landing is timely for we soon catch a glimpse of the King of Bhutan walking along the ceremonial way to board the plane we've just left. Bhutan established a hereditary monarchy just over a century ago, and the fifth Druk Gyalpo (Dragon King) became the world's youngest ruling monarch in 2006 when his father (who's still alive) handed over the throne. The fifth king has just celebrated his 31st birthday, a three day holiday in the kingdom, by visiting a village too remote for road access, and is now flying out to a conference in Kuwait. Oxford-educated, handsome in the royal yellow scarf, and unmarried, he's the country's most eligible bachelor. His father had four wives, all sisters, and the new king is the son of the third wife, though the first is regarded as the senior Queen Mother.

We're met by Chimi, a lively and experienced guide who was the first woman to qualify as a tour guide in Bhutan nearly 20 years ago. Our bus is much smaller than the coaches we've used in India, and our 24 pieces of heavy luggage are loaded onto the roof (we had a big excess baggage charge on Druk Air!). Chimi takes us straight to lunch at a typical Bhutanese restaurant in Paro - the buffet is full of good vegetables and a bit less spicy than Indian fare, apart from the national favorite, ema datse, green chillies prepared in a cheese sauce. Tasting this is a mouth-burning experience!

Before driving to Thimphu, we visit the National Museum which is perched on a hill above Paro. It's a striking round building, an old watchtower with extremely thick walls which was renovated forty years ago to house the museum. As in the Guggenheim, we're encouraged to begin the tour on the top floor and work our way down the spiral stairs. The eclectic collection gives us a good overview of the history, religion, crafts and culture of this small Himalayan country (total population of about 750,000).

Then it's back to the bus for a scenic two-and-a-half hour drive through the Paro valley, passing the confluence of two rivers, to the modern capital, Thimphu, where we'll spend the next 2 nights. The Taj Tashi invites us all to a welcome ceremony performed outdoors by a Buddhist priest in the late-afternoon chill. The hotel is a stunning building, with traditional Bhutanese architecture amplified in a modern way. The high ceilings of the lobby and the main dining room are dramatic - even if they give the wood-burning stoves a lot of space to heat. This Taj is just a few years old, a joint venture between the Indian hotel group and Bhutanese partners, and lives up to all of our expectations of the Taj chain.

Exploring Kolkata

Wednesday 23rd

 We're up at 6 to watch people begin their day on the ghat (or steps) leading down to the Ganges (known here as the Hooghly) near the Howrah bridge. Here a solitary figure is brushing his teeth with a wooden twig, and others are taking their ritual dip in the river, waking up from an uncomfortable sleep on the steps, saying prayers, or mud-wrestling - an entertaining performance that we watch for a while.

Our guides lead us through the crush of the nearby flower market - a wonderful riot of colors. Then we visit the ancient Kali Temple, the city's holiest Hindu shrine. Sugar, Mimi and I opt to go into the inner sanctum, each escorted by a young guide, and find ourselves in a noisy, jostling mass of worshippers, being pushed forward over a low railing and burning candles to make an offering to the three-eyed Kali image. An unnerving but very memorable experience!

We then visit the headquarters of the Missionaries of Charity, the Catholic order founded by Mother Teresa to work with the poorest of Kolkata's poor. It now houses her tomb and an exhibition about her life, as well as being home to many younger nuns. The reverent silence surrounding Mother Teresa's last resting place is in total contrast to the hubbub of the Hindu temple.

Lunch is a delicious sampling of Bengali food, served on tali, or individual platters of eight or nine small bowls.

In the afternoon, I split off from the group to unearth my parents' wartime Calcutta, with the help of Swagata, a knowledgeable guide, and a driver. Much of colonial Calcutta is very dilapidated - almost beyond repair - with the city's modern development concentrated around its ring road. But Oberoi Hotels are undertaking a massive renovation of the old Great Eastern Hotel, which happened to be where my parents stayed on their way back to England from China in 1944. The colonnaded building will be a 7 star hotel of about 1,000 rooms - hopefully an anchor for regeneration of the historic area.

I'm keen to find the Saturday Club, my father's home away from home on his regular visits to Calcutta, and have called ahead to ask permission to visit. The Club Secretary, a retired Brigadier of the Indian Army, shows me this photo of the club as it must have looked in my father's day. I'm pleased to see that it's still thriving, with school children playing badminton, members meeting over tea on the terrace, great tennis courts and an indoor pool. The buildings are showing their age, but it's a welcome refuge from city living in the heart of the old colonial district.

I rejoin the group at the waterfront for an evening cruise on the river. We're entertained by a lively band of musicians/dancers, and later have dinner on a floating restaurant (akin to Hong Kong's Jumbo). It's been a long but fascinating day. 

Pondicherry to Kolkata

Tuesday 22nd

Today is mainly a travel day. We have a long drive back from Pondicherry to Chennai, to catch an afternoon flight north to Kolkata. But we have time to enjoy an excellent lunch at the chic Trident hotel, near Chennai's airport.

We land in the evening at Kolkata's airport, previously known as Dum Dum, because it was close to a military base whose firing range made 'dum dum' sounds. During World War II the airfield was a vital base for flights over the Hump of the Himalayas, taking Allied personnel and supplies into China. My parents, Max and Audrey Oxford, who met working for the British Embassy in Chongqing, were frequent passengers to and from Dum Dum taking the terrifying flights over the Hump in and out of China.

Today, we immediately experience the chaos of modern Kolkata on a traffic-snarled, rush-hour journey from the airport to our hotel, the Taj Bengal. On this trip we're staying wherever possible in the fine hotels of the Taj group, and this one is particularly splendid with a huge atrium.

We have dinner in the hotel, in readiness for an early start tomorrow.

Pondicherry

Monday 21st
Leaving Fisherman's Cove after breakfast, we drive 3 hours south along the coast to Pondicherry through flat, scrubby farming country. We make a brief stop at Auroville, a settlement founded forty years ago with great ambitions of becoming an ideal, international community of 50,000 souls. In fact, it houses just 1,800 people and is a bizarre combination of a futuristic center for meditation (sorry, 'concentration', and not open to visitors!) and a rather good collection of modern stores for tourists.

The port of Pondicherry was France's territory in Tamil Nadu, and is still known for its French Quarter and tax-free alcohol (elsewhere in the state, the tax on drinks is a frightening 58%). We reach our beach-front hotel, the Promenade, in time for a late lunch, and then visit the Catholic church of the Sacred Heart - an overblown brown-and-white Gothic construction - and walk through the bustling covered market. Our guide shows us how to chew beetle nut, wrapped in these leaves, though we all resist the temptation.

Later on, Mimi and I head off to explore the French Quarter on foot, discovering the more attractive pink-and-cream Notre Dame des Anges, lit up by the late afternoon sun, and some intriguing antique shops. We try (and fail!) to find a bar for an early evening drink, but return to the neighborhood with Adrienne for dinner in the town's best French bistro, Le Dupleix. We eat out in the courtyard of an 18th century mansion which was formerly the residence of the French Governor. Le Dupleix is beautifully restored as a boutique hotel, but sadly few of the old colonial buildings seem as well cared for.