Getting to Amritsar was a pretty traumatic experience in itself. I was still abit iffy after my tummy bug through the week but the train was only six hours and we would arrive around 9pm allowing us plenty of time to arrange accomodation and get settled so that we could get up to see the temple at sunrise. Easy.

After the taxi driver first got lost on the way to the Delhi metro station and then tried to rip us off we were already somewhat perturbed but alas we got to the station, got the tickets and even found a decent window seat on the train. The ticket inspector calmly and politely informed us that our tickets were valid for the next carriage along. No problem, at the next station we could move down, we were already in the bottom class so it couldn't be any worse, right?

The archaic image of Indian trains with passengers hanging out of the doorway due to the impossible number of people sardined into the carriage is something we had not actually seen until today. We stood, with giant backpacks, bemused by the complete lack of space in front of the doorway. I mean, it wasn't that this would make the journey uncomfortable, this would make the journey impossible! We saw the tickety chap and tried to explain the situation, we could either buy new tickets (from a rickety old stand on the other platform) or find a way on to the train. This conversation developed as the train began to move off making the whole new-ticket debacle fairly redundant. So, with the train all too readily picking up pace we gathered some momentum and dived on before travelling a for fair distance whilst hanging out the side of a train that by this point was hitting the 30mph regions, certainly faster than I could sprint at least. Finally the Indians found a way of literally ragging us into the train. People were dangling from the overhead luggage racks and with no room to even sit on the horrifically filthy floor we were resigned to 6 hours of unenviable misery.

Mercifully, people slowly began to hop off the train and after a couple of hours we managed to get a seat of sorts i.e. 5 people crammed onto a seat designed for 3 but nevertheless we were sat down. A rather interesting and friendly Ayurvedic (fake) doctor who ran a herbal medicine business -who, it transpires had a passion for prostitutes and pistols- took great pride in showing us his latest purchase, which, although un-nerving and totally against my largely philanthropic attitude was still pretty cool.

Anyway, we arrived in Amritsar at midnight and after some miscommunication at the hotel (between me and tom that is, not the non-english speaking hotel attendant) we ended up paying a fortune for a room but at least we'd arrived.

The next day we got up, had breakfast and headed to Amritsar's and Sikhisms main attraction, The Golden Temple. This place was magnificent in every possible way. For me the beauty of this 16th century Sahib far surpassed the aesthetic bounty of the gold laden building and clean water lake in which it was situated. Instead I was far more exhilarated by the ambiance within the compound. Shamefully and far too frequently we visit the abundance of holy sites in Asia and feel pretty underwhelmed. This however, was an entirely different story. The typically accepting nature of the Sikh people coupled with the sites religious importance created a wonderful ambiance that allowed us to meander through the crowds with a steady stream of smiles and head wobbles. Most Sikhs will make a pilgrimage to the temple at least once in their lifetimes so to observe and occassionally speak to the people who had travelled from all corners of the globe was in itself awe-inspiring.

Many Gurdwaras, so i'm told, offer free food to those in need on at least one day a week. The Golden Temple offers all day, every day, to anyone. As we left for lunch we were dragged by a chubby, smiley, elderly Sikh gentleman (my new favourite type of gentleman) to have lunch in the temple. Tentatively we sat legs crossed in a large hall and were presented with a plate of a wonderful curry and even a rice-pudding type dessert. It was marvellous. Entirely satisfied we pottered downstairs and encountered the industrial and militarily disciplined cooking and cleaning operation underway. Many of the people in the temple are volunteers there simply to do their part. This encompasses cooking, cleaning and a nightly polish of the temple itself that is all done with dedication and a smile.

The temple has lodging areas within the outer complex that is free for pilgrims to sleep, although many tend to throw down a towel and sleep in the temple iteself. Indian's have an uncanny ability to sleep anywhere, at any time, under any circumstances. They also have a small, security guarded dorm room for foreign tourists to stay of charge. It was simple and and fairly warm but nevertheless retained a certain charm. We stayed that evening before arising at dawn to see the temple at it's prime time. Unfortunately, as was common in India, the unrelenting smog blocks out any real form of visible sun from appearing until around 11am. It's as though the place gets brighter but your not quite sure where the light is coming from. Arriving in darkness we were able to walk around the temple itself where large numbers of pilgrims were praying and singing jubilantly within. It gave me that sort of heart-warming feeling you get when Colin firth turns up at the Portugese birds restaraunt in Love Actually. Everything was just very pleasant and I was genuienly moved by the brief time we spent there. I would urge anyone who visits India to come here. The Taj is just a buiding, the Golden Temple is an experience.

The next day we managed to sneak a trip to the India-Pakistan border at Attari to see the nightly closing ceremony. It's a very typically Indian affair. We took a jeep-share for an hour or so to the border with two wonderfully intriguing and well travelled elderly gentleman who were spending their retirement gently pottering around India for a few days at a time. But what happened next is one of the most bizarre series of events I've born witness to...

Two amphitheatres surrounded the road at either end of the border and both were full with hundreds if not thousands of jubilant spectators. We tried in vain to peer into the Pakistani side of the border but from the sound of the cheers and chants initiated by Abdul & Dec at each side, the process seemed largely the same. Young girls from the crowd danced and ran with flags through the centre of the road with excessively loud bollywood music vibrating every sinew of my being. As the 'official' proceedings began soldiers wearing sort of roman-style feathers on their caps from both sides then went through identically choreographed routines involving high kicks, a lot of stamping and the occassional fist pump accompanied by a primeval thundercry that recieved cheerful eruptions from the already electrified crowd. This all lasted about half an hour before a single soldier from each sides shook hands and locked the border gates as the flags on either side were withdrawn. This happens every night and I cannot even begin to fathom how this developed or what purpose it serves. It's entertaining nonetheless.

Our time in Amritsar was a truly enjoyable experience and I genuinely feel a warmth for the people there. After leaving a donation for the food and hospitality at the temple we headed back to the station for the 24 hour haul to Varanassi....