Room with a view - Seoul.
…when out of the blue came an almighty roar. Deafening shouting through a loudspeaker shattered the peacefulness that we had become so accustomed to. We thought it was an over zealous preacher in the nearby church. We went in search of this noisy rhetoric. It wasn’t coming from the church, it was out on the main wide streets - a very, very loud political demonstration. I had to chase it down…
Read MoreA couple of hours on the train and we arrived in Jeonju, which means ‘perfect location’. This is our penultimate destination. Located in central South Korea, it is known for its cuisine and is home to the Bibimbap. I have eaten bibimbap in every location we have stayed in, so I think I can call myself an expert. The stakes are high.
Read MoreTaepyung Salt Fields was our destination, but it appeared closed despite me talking to someone who assured me it was open for visitors. Not wanting to give up, we left the Taepyung Visitors Site and went over to the fields to see for ourselves how the salt was created.
Read MoreRoom with a view. Mokpo.
…what I see are vast, flat, empty spaces filled with a diverse ecosystem, with layered mountains forming screens in the distance. The wetlands are tidal and at the time of our visit it was a very low tide. Beautifully empty, beautifully still and beautifully mesmerising.
Read MoreNestled into the side of a mountain are the terraced houses of Gamcheon Culture Village. With its waves of colourful roofs and narrow winding alleys.
Read MoreRoom with a view - Nampo.
…Food in Busan is no different but it’s on another level. Busan is all about food, especially seafood - there are fish markets, fish stalls, restaurants, night food markets, bakeries - street after street, food is everywhere...
Read MoreRoom with a view - Pungcheon, Andong.
We arrived in Andong and travelled some 25km out to our short pit-stop in Pungcheon. A little Milton Keynes-esk and unfinished. It’s obviously a new town and has yet to establish itself.
Read MoreWe travelled by bus through the most atrocious weather, over to the eastside of S. Korea to Gangneung, a coastal city with the ‘scent of pine and coffee permeating throughout’.
Read MoreThe Hanbok is the traditional dress of Koreans with bright colours, simple lines, and no pockets. Here you can hire them and later I found out if you wear the Hanbok you get free entrance into ‘the places’.
Read MoreThe Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) is a 4km wide strip of land that runs across the Korean Peninsula to act as a buffer between North and South Korea.
Read MoreSeoul is an undulating, sprawling metropolis filled with industry and urbanisation overshadowing the pockets of the old traditional life.
Read MoreOur final day of our travels took us back to Delhi. We had unfinished business - the Lodi Colony district. At the beginning of our trip it had been closed off so this was the perfect way to spend our last day. The temperature has hit mid 20s and the sun was shining.
Always good to have a map to find your way.
With the help of various groups, including the residents of Lodhi Colony, Asian Paints and St+Art India the town mural concept was inspired by the sights, sounds and smells of the Lodhi Colony, a residential area which has now become an open art gallery for all, with its enormous murals painted by both Indian and international artists.
The otherwise dull, plain walls of buildings in the colony have been beautifully transformed into a creative ensemble as part of the annual Lodhi Street Art Festival.
Each triple-storey government-owned building features a central arched doorway and four windows where the archway offers a glimpse inside to a courtyard.
In some buildings, the archways frame the trees spilling out into the street.
I loved the way both the new and old trees of Lodhi dynamically became part of each art piece.
Lodhi Art District is home to over 54 murals that take on various themes, from social issues to environmental issues, marginalised and vulnerable communities like LGBTQ to Indian Culture and values. Many of them have been inspired by the residents and visitors of the Lodhi Colony.
Here art isn’t limited to a museum or art gallery or to the elite. It reflects an age of a generation of artists that hold the power to delivering their messages through street art.
Carnatic Cafe provided us with our final meal - the best Dosas and Sambar ever. The perfect ending as we savoured our last sights of New Delhi.
Well that’s it. Our bags are packed and it’s time to head back home to England.
Our final unexpected treat was from our plane window as we began to head home - crossing the mountain range over K2 to Kazakstan.
Its been an interesting trip to say the least, full of unexpected twists and turns and very different to our last visit to India.
Our next adventure begins in a couple of months… I hope you will join me.
In the north of India, on the foothills of the Himalayan mountains is a modernist’s raw concrete city from another time. Which is exactly the reason we found ourselves here in Chandigarh. Our final destination.
Following Indian Partition in 1947, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru wished for a new state capital for Punjab since Lahore went to Pakistan. So the Swiss born modernist architect Le Corbusier spent the 1950s bringing concrete to Chandigarh to create "the City Beautiful”. A utopian city for both Punjab and Haryana.
A city designed from scratch to resemble a living organism, complete with head, heart, limbs and circulatory system.
Chandigarh's regimented grid layout, comprising numbered rectangular "superblocks" measuring 800m wide by 1,200m long, contrasts sharply with the chaotic feel of India's traditional cities. Roads, bike lanes, green spaces, houses, public utilities all laid out in a systematic ordered way.
You can use the drain covers to help you navigate the city.
Le Corbusier’s cousin Pierre Jeanneret and the English architects Maxwell Fry and Jane Drew were brought in to design numerous buildings under Le Corbusier's direction. He himself took charge of the Capitol Complex, the state administrative hub located in the northernmost "Sector 1", which represents the city's conceptual "head".
We were staying in Sector 17, So off we set on our Brutalist adventure and discovered the grid system in reality comprised of some very, very long roads.
The shaded tree-lined, wide roads are lined with crumbling brutalist government and police buildings. The pavements, we’ve not seen many of those in India, have various obstacles you have to navigate around and are crumbling away.
The side roads were filled with plush, suburban, modernist, Californian style highly-secured Advocate homes and offices.
To get near, let alone inside Le Corbusier’s Capital Complex, we had to navigate a series of administrative hurdles. Initially, thanks to google maps we found our way to the High Court back-door premises which was really interesting with lawyers and barristers buzzing around and court papers being transported here and there. We were swiftly escorted off the premises by the police and sent to the tourism office to arrange an official escort. Didn’t you see the signs?????
Having previously experienced India's famous bureaucratic nightmares we thought we were on a hide to nothing.
However, after presenting photos of our passports we were assigned security guards, army guards and tourism officials to escort us to the showpiece - Capital Complex - the head, the brain of Le Corbusier’s creation. This is where the government headquarters and administrative offices are. This UNESCO World Heritage Site, is made up of The Secretariat Building, The High Court of Justice and The Palace of Assembly.
High Court Justice building. The additional top roof is designed to absorb heat to keep the law chambers cool.
The visit was a whirlwind and due to court being in session we were unable to go inside or even near the signs forbidding you to go within a stones throw. Barristers meanwhile pace the grounds in-between sessions
The Open Hand Sculpture stands 26 meters high. The lower assembly area has no echo and a person speaking can be heard without the need of a microphone. The hand moves indicating the wind direction. The city's motto is "Open to give, open to receive", symbolised by Le Corbusier's Open Hand monument.
We managed to arrange a second visit a couple of days later, this involved another round of paperwork, another set of security measures and finally we were allowed a little closer to the Capital Complex buildings and even inside the Palace of Assembly and inside the Punjab Assembly room. Not without handing over bags, phones and cameras and being scanned. The inside is a glorious celebration of modernist interior design and furniture. The escorted lightening tour unfortunately didn’t include getting any closer to The Secretariat.
This sculpture is an experiment with how to get light in a building but not the heat. It’s certainly is a lot colder when you walk round the other side.
Left is the Haryana Palace of Assembly Room roof. Right is the Punjab’s roof. It was designed to let light flood in and highlight the speakers inside the room below. It has now been blocked up due to unwanted drone activity.
Palace of Assembly
Secretariat Building.
What we have witnessed is a utopian city showing more than just a few cracks. Some areas have a distinct distopian look. Many of Le Corbusier’s most emblematic concrete buildings have fared badly in the Indian summer heat and monsoon seasons. Restoration campaigns have attempted to restore some of the buildings in the city but Le Corbusier’s vision and “raw concrete” aesthetic is being gradually eroded in the process.
This is a a quiet city thanks to the no horn policy but its deafening in its overbearing signage. There is also a huge police presence. To us, as non-indian visitors it doesn’t feel like the happiest Indian city it claims to be, but we don’t live here.
It’s always worth popping into the Indian Coffee Shop - if you can get a table.
Chandigarh has apparently become India’s wealthiest city per capita. However on the other side of the coin the city now faces the challenge of overpopulation. Initially designed to accommodate 500,000 inhabitants, it’s expected to be home to 1.6 million inhabitants by 2031. Slums, as we witnessed in an unofficial taxi ride back to the airport, continues to expand outside the city, the very opposite to Le Corbusier’s dream.
After our decent from Nagarkot, we had half a day left in Thamel, Kathmandu - time was of the essence… I have been very drawn to the fabrics here in Nepal. Similar to my paper addiction, I also have a fabric addiction, it has developed initially from interior design to now incorporating fabric into my artwork. There is something very different to the feel of Nepalese fabric so I did a bit of hunting and found a contact online, coincidently just down the road from our hotel. A few what’s app messages later and we met Ajay who has a weaving factory. He produces modern raw-silk fabrics using traditional methods and more recently using eco-dying and we were going to visit where the magic happens.
Firstly Ajay took us to his premises in Thamel - a small, modern clothes shop which had just opened for business that very morning. The rooms behind were where the clothes were made before being exported to select countries around the world. Customers can either buy the fabric or the garments.
The Nepal Handloom Silk Industry is the first and only company in Nepal to manufacture and export hand-woven raw silk fabrics and garments. It is currently a 2nd generation business run by Ajay who took over from his father.
The room where the handmade fabrics were stored took my breath away. What is different is that many are created using natural dyes and woven in unique combinations and thicknesses on a hand-loom. I have never seen or felt silk, linen and wool worked like this. These fabrics do not have the conventional weight, look or feel of silk.
Nepal Handwoven Raw-Silk
Nepal Handwoven Linen
Pattern matching for a Japanese client.
After a while we jumped into a car and went over to Ajay’s factory - some bungalows behind his home.
Ajay’s business - ‘Nepal Handloom Silk Industry - uses an aged and traditional style of handloom weaving, which creates fabric with a luxurious feel. The fabrics are woven on an old and long-established Foot–Treadle Floor Loom. Weaving is done by intersecting the longitudinal threads, the warp, i.e. “that which is thrown across”, with the transverse threads, the weft, i.e. “that which is woven” ‘- as explained on his website http://www.nhsi.com.np
In the first building are the foot-treadle floor looms and the spinning wheels. The sound of the looms is magical. The weft takes many days to set up.
The warp is spun the onto spools and they go into the shuttles. The shuttles weave together the 2 layers of weft. The tension determines the weight and feel of the raw-silk.
Spinning the spools for the shuttle
In the second bungalow are some enormous pieces of machinery that are dedicated to the semi-automated weft alignment. The weft is set up for the desired meterage then transferred on a large roller to the loom where is it fed through all in perfect alignment. They do not make the weft, the thread is bought locally. This saves some time setting up the foot-treadle floor loom, especially with large lengths of fabric.
The roll of weft can allow around 20 - 40 meters of fabric to be woven,
Nepal Handloom Silk Industry first started dealing in Linens in the year 2005. Linen yarns are imported from China and India, then all the manufacturing process is done in Nepal. Like the process of manufacturing Handloom Silk and Pashmina, they use the old Foot–Treadle Floor Loom for weaving Linen fabrics.
The sad fact is that there is a decline in weavers. It is an artisan job but has never been well paid. Ajay is doing his best to raise the profile of weaving but youngsters are not really interested in this career choice. He has a small but talented team which I hope he can build on in the future. It would be a shame to lose this craftsmanship.
Ajay loves experimenting with the different weaving combinations of the raw silk or linen. His natural creations are beautiful and unique.
2 colourway raw-silk and avocado dyed linen.
Ajay has begun exploring eco-dying. Indigo - deep blue, avocado stones - pink, pomegranate - green/yellow, marigold - yellow/ orange and madder - vivid red with beautiful results. Only relatively small pieces can be dyed at a time mainly to ensure continuity within one garment.
Ajay has begun growing some of the relative plants in his garden - some with mixed success. Patience is required as it can take up to three years for a plant to yield any fruit. The monkeys from the nearby temple also pose a future threat to the success of the fruit supply.
After a cup of tea we returned to the office to collect a beautiful selection of raw silks that shall be put to good use back in the UK.
A few of the raw silks coming home with me
What a wonderful, spontaneous experience. Thank you Ajay!!
Farewell to the huge, beautiful mountain range and a country filled with beautiful people. How can we not return.
So its back to India and on to Chandigarh in the Punjab.
The Himalaya mountain range runs across Nepal’s northern and western parts, and eight of the world’s ten highest mountains, including the highest, Mount Everest, are within its territory. How could we miss that!
Our taxi driver, Raju, took us up Up UP the mountain. How we managed to go up is beyond me. The road was seldomly there. Raju told us there was a better road but not to go up, up, up, only for down, down, down. We were to experience that later.
It was a rattling ride up to our destination, 2000m up in the air. When we arrived our feet didn’t feel like they were touching the ground. The town was pretty bereft of anything or anyone. The hotels looked deserted.
Town of Nagarkot
We knew from the start that we would not be seeing the mountains in all their glory as it was the wrong time of year. That didn’t stop us getting our 6.00 AM sunrise knock on the door curtesy of the very keen hotel-staff. The peaks we did see poking above the clouds were amazing - they are way, way bigger than anything I’ve ever skied down. We felt like we were on top of the world. We were more than happy to chill out here in the beautiful garden, watching the eagles and stare with wonder at the mountain peaks.
After acclimatising for a day we headed out on an adventure. A 3 hour hike - on a tarmac road curtesy of the military, rewarded us with even more breathtaking views, accompanied by music and chanting filling the valley below us. It was very moving.
En-route to our destination, an observation tower an extra 200m, we heard music nearby. A bus was parked on a bit of wasteland, an oven was being set up, food unpacked and a loud speaker turned up to max - A women’s community picnic had just rocked up.
In Nepal, communities can pay into a fund that assists people, similar to how our building societies originally worked. This fund also funded days out for its members and today was picnic day.
Before we could even introduce ourselves I was whisked off to the dance floor, the cook grabbed my phone and while he waited for the dhal to heat through he videoed my poor attempts at dancing with a very lovely group of ladies.
Nagarkot rocks.
The journey down on the better road was vastly steeper, unfortunately once the military area ended so did the road. It was a white knuckle ride and Raju certainly entertained us as he expertly navigated the rubble, holes and rocks.
Before we arrived back in Kathmandu, Raju insisted we tried some King Kurd - his favourite snack. A sweet yoghurt made from Buffalo Milk and served in disposable terracotta pots. Good call!
Farewell Nargakot, it was an unexpected delight.
One day left in Kathmandu, then back to India for the final part of our journey.
The biggest surprise was to find the population of Nepal was over 80% Hindu and not predominantly Bhuddist as I first thought. The second surprise was the quietness. This is a relatively new phenomenon. Three years ago honking the horn was banned - unless you can validate its use. The traffic police have come down hard on the road traffic causing recent protests from the taxi drivers. I have to say after India, I’m enjoying not having my ears assaulted.
We are staying in the Thamel neighborhood of Kathmandu, a very popular backpackers area. Wires are strung up all over the city, but are slowly being tidied up. Kathmandu used to practice “load sharing,” so during the day there were scheduled power cuts to help conserve energy, this has nearly all been eradicated in the major cities but you still get caught out with power cuts.
The area is just one big souvenir, trekking and pashmina shop. Cheap imitations getting caked in dust. If the pashminas were real they wouldn’t be hanging on the dusty roadside. The contents of the shops are predominately out on the street, the shopkeepers hidden inside in the dim light.
Kathmandu is very, very dusty due to brick factories, building works and unfinished roads being churned up by rickshaws, motorbikes and cars. The air is constantly filled with a haze of dust that makes the air have a golden glow.
On the face of it I wouldn’t say Kathmandu is a particularly attractive city or very photogenic. However, look beyond the main shopping thoroughfare and the tourists and it’s another story - we found interesting dark narrow alleys, buildings shored up, courtyards and a calmer view of everydaylife.
We made our way to Durbar Square as suggested by the manager of our hotel in order to witness a phenomen we would never have experienced before.
How could we say no!
With only seconds to spare we made it to an inner courtyard just as the doors were shutting. About 20 of us were locked in. There was a strange air of expectation. We were told to put our phones and cameras away, quite a few times and a few times more. Photography was not allowed under any circumstances.
We were about to witness the presence of a living Goddess - the Kumari. A living reincarnation.
An old woman appears at the window to scan the group for any photography equipment and then…. a gasp from the crowd and she appeared. A young girl, a very young girl, always chosen from a clan of the Newari community to be a living Goddess.
The bejewelled Royal Kumari stared down at us. No flicker of emotion, just stared.
Officials were touching their foreheads, praying or just gasping in awe. She will carry out this role - appearing at the window each day- until she reaches menstruation age then she will no longer be a goddess and will be integrated back into society.
Throughout her Goddess life she has to pass ritual tests and be inspected for 32 specific attributes of physical beauty, including a neck like a conch shell, eyelashes like a cow, a chest like a lion, and thighs like a deer. Her eyes and hair must be black. And she must be brave.
‘The-would-be Kumaris are kept in a dark room with slaughtered buffalo heads while men dance around to monitor their levels of “fearlessness,” says a former Kumari, Rashmila Shakya in her autobiography, From Goddess to Mortal. She found the transition from being living goddess to just another girl was emotionally challenging.
Apparently Kamari tradition is frowned upon by child protection groups.
Once the Goddess had gone back inside we were allowed to take photographs then the doors were unlocked and we were set free. Well the hotel manager was right, we have never experienced anything like that before!
There are a number of beggars, but, although not rich, people do give to the most needy.
We climbed up 180 steps to the Swayambhunath temple, also known as the Monkey Temple. Swayambhunath sits high on a hill overlooking the Kathmandu Valley, it was relatively quiet and peaceful here, and the temple is beautiful.
While the 2015 earthquake was devastating, it didn’t change the heart of the city. Much of the city escaped the damage too, while the ancient parts that were hit still live on with all the character of Kathmandu. It’s not a place you can really compare to any other. While it does possess a chaos somewhat similar to India, everything else about Kathmandu is too different to really compare.
We really liked it here because of the the people. The Nepali people are very welcoming, polite, and friendly and they went out of their way to make our visit very enjoyable. It is often said that people first come to Nepal for the mountains, but return for the people.
That will most likely be true in our case!
In the meantime it’s time to pack our bags and head up the mountain.
Bhaktapur is a small Newar town in the Kathmandu Valley where the past meets the present. It is known as the cultural capital of Nepal, and its streets and squares are teeming with vendors selling and creating the most intricately designed woodwork, pottery and bronze singing bowls. It is also the setting for Bertolucci’s acclaimed film The Little Buddha. This heritage town attracts not only tourists but wedded couples having their official photographs taken against the beautiful backdrops.
Although temples and castles are generally not our thing, this town is remarkable in its sheer scale and beauty. This is a UNESCO heritage site. The temples have been rebuilt since the 2015 earthquake - funded by UNESCO.
Following the 2015 earthquake the surrounding old town has been rebuilt by the residents without any financial aid.
Earthquake debris lies in mounds throughout the city.
Bhaktapur is famous for the rows of grey clay pots that bask in the sun to dry.
There are two pottery squares in Bhaktapur, with a communal kiln for the potters to fire their work.
Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows my affinity for paper. Nepalese Lokta paper frequently features in my art work so it comes as no surprise that I tracked down a paper-making factory ‘coincidently’ hidden away in the back streets of Bhaktapur.
The Peacock Shop, named after the nearby Peacock Window symbolising good luck and prosperity, is a monument to the work of Mr. Prajapati who is saving much of the Newar Heritage and rebuilding earthquake damaged buildings. His premises comprises of the paper-making factory, printing and book creations and also on the top floor is the owner's collection of carvings and furniture, some of it many years old which he has saved from being lost or destroyed.
Mr. Prajapati, the owner of The Peacock Shop
Mr. Prajapati’s son, Suyog has published a handmade book describing culture and Hindu-Buddist imagery. It has been handprinted in 6 languages. It was beautiful to see the actual old letter-press machine, the layout of the pages and the plates used to print the book.
‘Glimpses of Nepal’ Book cover plate.
The Lokta grows wild at an altitude of 6500ft or above in the Himalayas.
The Lokta bark is cooked, washed and beaten into pulp before it is dyed and then spread out on the mesh frames to dry out in the sun. Some papers have flowers and leaves added.
Making the bark pulp
Dying the pulp red
Dyed lokta pulp on the mesh with petals added
Various stages of drying paper on the rooftop
The paper is then pressed to the desired thickness and texture and cut to the required size.
Giant paper guillotine
Making covers for Lokta books
Mr Prajapati has also designed a house for a potter. It is made entirely of terracotta and glows a beautiful orange in the sunlight.
Mr. Prajapati’s kiln
House made of terracotta
The Dharka Topi - a hat worn by Nepalese men is part of their national identity.
As the sun begins to fade we leave a glowing Bhaktaphur. We throughly enjoyed our visit to this artists hub and my bundle of Lokta paper will be carefully packed and taken home, eventually.
Hello Nepal. Well this feels different!
Outside of temples and a starting spot for mountain trekking, I was going to Kathmandu without any real knowledge of the area. Immediately upon arrival from India, it felt different. Calmer, quieter and less chaotic.
Surrounded by incredible scenery, Kathmandu has a unique and interesting character to it when walking around the city. There’s a ruggedness to it. Many of the streets are dirt roads, the buildings aren’t in the best shape and the architecture and temples all over the city give it its own identity. There’s a mix of Nepalese culture and modernity throughout the city, while feeling you are still far away from a more developed urban life. Since the country has become government run, buildings higher than 2 storeys are now permitted. A new building era has begun.
Roads are unpredictable, Power-cuts randomly happen, it’s all part of the experience. Everybody is smiling. But before we explore Kathmandu any further we took a jeep ride out of the city.
As we made our way out of the city, brick factories and rural developments give way to rice fields on the way to the hillside village of Panauti.
Panauti is still regarded as one of the oldest towns in Nepal. It offers a poignant look at the passage of time. The crowded bus-stop in the sprawling mess of the new town gives way to small brick streets leading through a once prosperous, trading medieval city with a relatively small temple at its centre accompanied by an antiquated yet charming museum. The main visitors here, it appears, are a multitude of pigeons.
With the exception of a few motor vehicles there seems to be little evidence of modernity. Washing is done in the river, cement is made by hand, wool is hand-spun and wood is hand-carved.
Earthquakes and age have taken their toll on the village but some building renovations are underway. The tiny, lopsided doorways, hand-carved wooden structures and wonky, subsided brickwork provide a historical backdrop to the day to day chores of everyday life.
Our next stop is Bhaktapur…
Behind the ghats in the old, wonky, interlaced narrow alleys, the shops have been hit hard by covid and some traders are struggling to rebuild their lives. So many closed factories have killed the shopkeepers’ supply chains. Many have had to try and create new businesses. During Lockdown, some alleys have been brightly decorated. Building works are plentiful, the machinery isn’t.
If you don’t have a cow, milk is delivered straight to your jug - with a smile.
Some of the ghats are quieter and are a lovely place to sit and watch the world go by.
Our final evening in Varanasi had to be spent on the water again, this time we wanted to see the other side of the Ganges…
This has to be the biggest change we have seen here. We were shocked when we arrived to see what has become ‘the elephant in the room’ to the locals - Tent City, built by The Yogi Government over the other side of the river Ganges. What an empty, expensive eyesore. Created to cash in on the luxury end of the tourist industry and was inaugurated by PM Modi on the 13th Jan 2023. The tent city that resembles the sand dunes in Jaisalmer and Rann of Kutch in Gujarat apparently will showcase products from the East.
Apparently according to a newspaper ‘Tent City will add a new chapter to the tourism industry of the eastern UP and will bring financial benefits to the local people. The Tent City on the banks of the river Ganges will be a new chapter in the confluence of religion, spirituality and culture’.
I’m not wholly convinced. When I witness the numerous local boatsmen working so hard to make a living being overshadowed by huge Tent City party boats almost bullying them off the water, it doesn’t really enhance the culture or the spirituality of the place.
The locals still bathe, pray and play over this side but they are kept well away from Tent City. It is also where the families give up the cremated ashes to the holy river.
As we bid farewell to Varanasi, we spent our last evening on the water again with a local boatman. It gave us an opportunity to see the banks on other side of the Ganges.
We’ve tried hard to peel back a few more layers of this complicated city. It is breathtaking, frustrating, unique, chaotic and mesmerising and I doubt it will ever really face up to modernity.
Goodbye Varanasi, we have a plane to catch…
From what I can see, Varanasi appears a little cleaner and tidier. The more populated ghats now have bins. They are empty, but it’s a positive move nevertheless.
There are less sacred cows wandering around the alleys. I miss the cows and their noon chapati snack-time. Less cows are on the main roads which obviously helps the flow of traffic and is safer for all involved. Apparently they have been rounded up and many are kept in cow shelters.
Unfortunately the domestic cows used for milk remain tethered on a short rope unable to do anything. A static, sad life for them. There seems to be many more dogs, goats and chickens wandering around, probably enjoying the chapati offerings.
A large tented area has been erected at Dashashwamedh Ghat for the homeless to have a bed for the night - this must be very welcomed.
The new pedestrianised area next to burning ghats is a very smart, clean walkway leading from the ghats up to the Golden Temple. It blends in well with its historical neighbours. It is still has a heavy police presence.
The light in Varanasi is beautiful. Together with its faded grandeur and the abundance of Indian fabrics makes for a very beautiful palette. A palette I hope to bring into my future artwork back home.
The colour orange burns especially bright in Varanasi. It shines in the marigold garlands on the dashboards of every taxi and the robes of the sadhus – the Hindu holy men.
Saffron is the most sacred colour in the Hindu religion. It signifies fire and the burning away of impurities. Sadhus can be found on the banks of the Ganges, in alleys and in public squares. Their long white beards and brightly coloured tunics, sometimes orange, sometimes bright red, make them look so photogenic, but a picture could cost you.
The city has a huge number of sadhus. Men who have given up their regular lives, homes, relationships, material goods and chosen a life of detached poverty relying only on what people offer them. Those that carry a stick are in the final quarter of their lives and have devoted it entirely to their religion. This will be their final resting place.
Varanasi, is considered to be the holiest of the seven sacred cities in the religions of Hinduism and Jainism. Hindus believe that dying in the city will bring eternal salvation and an end to the cycle of rebirth. Pilgrims come from all over to seek purification in the sacred waters. They come to cremate their kin and to spend their final days in peace
You regularly see heads being shaved along the ghats. Within the Hindu religion, ceremonial haircuts are very symbolic, occurring during certain life events. The first is a child’s first haircut, the second is during worship and pilgrimages to special temples, and the third being the haircut during the mourning of a loved one.
A child’s first haircut, which is known as a chudakarna, ideally happens when a child is 1or 3 years old. The child’s hair is fully shaved off, or a sheikh is maintained by some Hindus - a small patch is left untouched that creates a lock of hair which is left to protect the brain, as well as the area where the soul is believed to leave the body after death.
The act of tonsuring is when hair is cut for religious purposes. Tonsuring is prevalent in the temples of Varanasi. It’s an important custom in Hinduism, as the ritual of shaving one’s head allows you to be closer to God,
The final ceremonial haircut takes place when a family member dies. The Mundan is observed by the wife of the deceased, and the eldest son or male relative who is to perform the last rites. The wife is expected to keep her head permanently shaved from now on, as a symbol of her widowhood, while the male family member is to remain shaven during the mourning period only. It is seen as a symbol of grief and a mark of respect for the departed soul.
Varanasi is a cacophony of people and atmospheric activity ebbing and flowing through the course of a day.
Preachers teaching young priests in-the-making, beggars begging, sons performing last rites, braying loudspeakers, ceremonial bathers, chanting, overheated flaming pyres, black kites circling over head, bells chiming, dogs barking… all swathed in amber hues.
