Cape Town to Mumbai was literally a hop, skip and jump. Three flights totalling nearly 11 hours passing thru Johannesberg (my least favourite airport) and Mahe, the largest Seychelloise island. We've been to Mumbai on two previous trips, as a result I didn't feel too guilty going to bed for 6 hours when we arrived at our hotel at 06.00am. It's a huge city, with an airport to match. The new Terminal 2 is the usual cross between a modern art museum and children's interpretation of 'planes, airports and passengers. We now have an EVisa with a process of invasive Biometrics that would make Facebook jealous! There's a huge infrastructure project, the building of a metro, "all underground", which is a major undertaking, given the upheaval, upon chaos, which it will create! Ironic to think we are here in India, looking forward to a long, hot, relxing shower, if not a bath!

Its a Bank Holiday, do you think that if you combined the world's Bank Holidays there'd be no days left to work upon? This makes the roads a lot less busy and we meander around an area called Colaba, not far from the Gateway to India, think Arc De Triomphe, and the grande dame hotel, Taj Mahal Palace, scene of a terrorist attack, all those years ago. As veggies, it's very easy to eat out in India, no longer a special need to be declared upon booking, as Hindus and Buddhists are predominantly veggies. In fact, meat on the menu resides in a "non veg" section. I had to get my Malabar paratha fix, sublime, and that came after a fabulous Indian take on modern sushi.

This is a staging post, for us, to Varanasi, pronounced with a W. It's 1500 kms north of Mumbai and resides on the Ganges. We are flying with Air India, who thoghtfully provide Bombay Mix as an onboard snack leaving Bombay. It is known as the home of the great God Shiva and Hindus pilgrimage to this holy place. The river is Mother Ganges. It is also where a Hindu would wish to be cremated to pass on to the next life. There is quite a thriving business in "death hotels" where those with terminal illnesses, or great, old age, prepare for their last journey. There is a religious ceremony every evening on the banks of the river, celebrating Mother Ganges, this forms part of the pilgimage, as well as the many pyres that are a significant part of the cities importance. Based upon the traffic, you could arrive here in your middle age and be near to death by the time you reach your destination. Pedestrians, bicycles, tricycles, mopeds, scooters, tuk tuks, taxis, cars, vans and trucks vie with road works and road building for an ever decreasing space between A and B. It's so bad, it's funny. Once you give up all hope of being anywhere on time its a fascinating sight. 2 hours to do 30kms doesn't tell you how adept our driver was at finding holes to place himself in. We arrive at the hotel by boat, it's on the banks of the Ganges, it is called a Ghat which means pier. Once owned by the King of Nepal, it's quaint and is in the perfect place.

We've missed our appointment with our guide. When we do meet we schedule two of our three trips together. This evening we've been on a small boat, with three others, as the sun has set. There are two pyre sites. It's a strange thing to behold. We squimish sorts take a while to process 11 bodies in various stages of becoming dust which will be spread on the Ganges. As it's a celebration of going to the after life, it is not a 'weeping and a wailin'", more quiet contemplation. The fire of the pyre is a fire of sorrow while The ceremony is called Ganga Aarti and the fire of joy. There are two stages, side by side where the boats gather, a huge flotilla, bound together by string that makes you want to skip over them, a la fleeing Bond villain. Only the hawkers seem to understand my thought process. The ceremony is a cacophony of chanting, bells, drums and clapping. There is flame everywhere, candles as footlights, Christmas tree shapes full of tea lights. The noise and colour, before around 3/4000 people, is trance like and it's uniqueness is burning a memory in to your brain.