On the evening of our departure from khajuraho, we headed to the station and boarded what looked like the tourist carriage; there were no Indians in sight. We arrived into Varanasi after a good nights sleep and headed to our hostel. This was the first dorm room we had stayed in, with 16 beds to a room. With a host of free activities offered by the hostel,we were just in time for 'spa'. I joined the queue of 4 other girls for the massage, but Hugo was whisked away immediately. Entering the waiting room, the masseuse asked the girls whether they had any problem with him doing Hugo's massage in the room, to which they replied no problem (he didn't think to ask Hugo). He then ordered Hugo to strip down to his underwear and lie on the floor. Rather uncomfortably, he complied while the 5 girls watched awkwardly. A long and painful massage then ensued, including turning onto his back where a towel was placed over his spongebob squarepants boxers (at least he threw away his holey boxers before he left), only to be taken away 5 minutes later for use as a pillow. Stripped of all dignity, Hugo hastily put his clothes back on and I decided to opt out of my massage and we made our exit, deciding to go on the food tour instead. Anil, our guide, was a giggly man who said 'man' far too much at the end of every utterance. He took us to try some 'chaat'; a spicy, oily tomato dish with little croutons. I was unable to finish the chaat because it was oh so spicy. The seating area was a tiny mezzanine with enough seats for about 40 people. Next we had pani puri which you filled with flavoured water - an odd taste. Finally we cooled off with kulfi, Indian ice cream flavoured with cardamom and other random ingredients. I thought kulfi was awful, but Hugo finished his. Next, Anil took us through the markets to the meat street. The smell of kebabs was a welcome one. We had chicken drumsticks in a marinade, 'chicken tangri kebab', which was right up Hugo's street. We carried on to 'blue lassi', the famous lassi shop with around 70flavours. Hug tried banana and I went for apple. Both were tasty, and served in there usual disposable clay pots. The two american girls we were with tried two other flavours. Whilst drinking, we saw a dead body pass through the street, carried on a wooden stretcher by several men. This was the road for taking bodies to the cremation ghats. The final stop on the tour was to try paan. I can't even tell you what was in it - its a leaf smeared with pastes, dried cherries, fennel sprinkles, pretty sure there was some chilli in there, and half a dozen other crazy items. One of the girls put the whole leaf parcel in to her mouth and began chewing. Her facial expression didn't fill me with hope, but I cautiously put my bundle into my mouth. About 5 seconds later it came straight back out again - a contender for one of the most terrible things I have ever tried. The other girl and Hugo put theirs in, Hugo managed to finish his after gagging. Hahaha. It was a once only thing. And guess what, apparently it's good for digestion, like every other food is in India. They love their natural remedies - Hugo has been advised to put onion juice on his hair to stop him malting! Anyone want to try it out?! That evening we chilled in the common room, Hugo played guitar, and we chatted to some of the other guests, most were from the UK. The following morning we got up super early to join the dawn boat ride on the Ganges. About ten of us got on to a motor boat and went up and down the ghats. The guide said that pregnant women, people with hepatitis, lepers, and children under 10 were not allowed to be cremated, and that instead stones would be tied to their bodies so that they would sink to the bottom of the river. A girl we had been speaking to said that on her boat ride, she saw a pale body face up on the surface of the water. So we were floating over probably thousands of dead bodies - brrr! The guide went on to say that homosexuals were not allowed in the river - instead they would be buried vertically so that they could 'never rest', and then their skulls are bashed in with a spade so that they cannot return as a homosexual (presumably as a zombie, or in their next life). As you can imagine, the boat went silent. We watched the sun rise as the locals bathed and washed clothes on the ghats. We returned for breakfast with everyone at the hostel. We joined two guys who were motorbiking to Australia from the UK and went to explore the ghats. They had met each other on their journies, and told us about their experiences through Iran and Pakistan. We visited the cremation ghats - a harrowing and surreal experience to see bodies burning on carefully constructed log piles. Apparently it costs around £36 for a cremation, which takes about three hours to burn.there were about four bodies being cremated when we were there, and bodies are burnt there 24hrs a day, most on the same day as their death. The ashes are then swept down the steps into the water - nature returning to nature. It was weird to think that this is what happens at home, but it is just more public here and almost cathartic for the families. There were however no women around the cremation ghats. We made our way to a German bakery that had been recommended to us, but found that there were two with the same name two doors down from each other! Deciding which was the 'real' one, we went up a huge flight of stairs to the rooftop area with amazing views of the city and the river. After a delicious lunch of lemon granitas, chicken schnitzel and vegetable lasagne , we headed outside to be told by the shop owner next door that the two bakeries used to be one, and that they split because the owner of the one we dined in was sleeping with the other one's wife! It sounded like the arguments and drama had caused him considerable grief, but admitted he was making a fortune in rent from the naughty baker. On our way to the next ghat, we met rajibaba, a man dressed in orange robes who explained to us about the water tower behind him. He was a great laugh - the water tower is basically a giant pipe directing waste from the town into the river, and therefore serves no purposes as the waste drained in to the river before it was built anyway! We said goodbye and began walking to the next ghat, however we were abruptly interrupted by a huge bull who decided to charge at us. The two other guys ran one way, and we ran the other. It came so close that my skirt was covered in slobber from it's mouth. Rajibaba came to our rescue and waved his stick at the bull. Now I know how s*** scared the people in Spain must be when they are chased through the streets by bulls! After passing another cremation ghat, we said goodbye to the guys and headed back to the hostel to pick up our bags, as we had a train at 6pm. We took a tuk tuk, and with half an hour until our train, the driver kept slowing down to make conversation, so we had to mention that our train was at 6, after which he drove like crazy through the traffic. We got to the the station at 17.55, and he had a big grin on his face for having gotten us there in time, proudly proclaiming we had 5 minutes to spare. We gave him a nice tip haha, and then ran for our train. After an overnight nap, we arrived into Kolkata.