South to the Punjab
So, after leaving Srinigar there was a 10 hour bus ride south to Jammu. I met some people from Malta on the bus and they were heading to Amritsar in the Punjab as well.
The drive was beautiful, as soon as the road climbed out of the Kashmir Valley, the scenery was very lush and green, with deep valleys, rivers and monkeys playing at the sides of the roads. The scenery and a relatively comfortable bus made this a nice ride.
Jammu was hot and dusty and not somewhere to spend a long time. Luckily, as the bus pulled up, some men jumped on to see where people were heading. As luck would have it, there was a bus to Amritsar about to leave. This was a huge bus, and we got the last three seats. It was a long six hours, and as we had travelled a long way south was getting hot and sticky, despite the time. 16 hours of bus travel, less than five pounds. Shortly before 11, the bus arrived in the holy city of Amritsar. Surrounded by people trying to tout expensive ‘hovels’ near the bus station, we escaped and found a fairly decent place just down the road. After convincing the owner that the rickshaws that followed us hadn’t bought us here (otherwise he pays them commission, and you pay more), we got some rooms for the night. Unfortunately this hotel was next to the railway line, and the first trains raced through at around dawn… so much for a long sleep. The city was a shock after the mountains, and at around 35 degrees, much hotter!
The Golden Temple is as magnificent as you’d imagine. Surrounded by marble buildings so it’s not visible from the street, there’s a lake with a walkway to the temple in the centre. All around are buildings housing various shrines, kitchens for feeding pilgrims and the free accommodation blocks. The floors are all marble which in the sun burns your bare feet. Strangely, although you have to cover your head, people strip off down to their underwear to bathe in the lake (keeping their heads covered of course!). At this point, I realise I am now a pretty major tourist attraction myself- and in the streets I get grabbed to be in more family photos. Although I did wonder, when in the garden where the British slaughtered 2000 locals in 1919, it was so they could later on say, “Look it was his fault”. Later on, we join a convoy to the border with Pakistan at Wagah (a share taxi with 12 people in a car made for 6). The reason for visiting here is to see the nightly closing the border ceremony: something repeated on both sides of the border. There are grandstands, loud pop music and even a warm up man to get the crowd going. People running up and down the road waving flags, and bangra dancing in the stands… By virtue of being a foreigner, I get pulled from the crush of the public into the VIP section with a nicer view (the people I am with are more tanned and get pushed into the ‘locals’ seating areas!). As the sun is low in the sky, the border guards with the most riduclous uniforms perform “Python-esque” ministry-of-silly-walks up and down in front of the crowd. Then the border gates are thrown open, and there is a face off between both countries, before the two flags are lowered to chants of “India forever” (as I believe the translation was). The flags are kept level, apparently to show the countries are equal, and then the gates are slammed shut for the night. It’s extremely silly, over the top, noisy and bewildering (like much of the country), but great fun.
The sign on the road back to the parking area welcomes us back to India “The World’s Biggest Democracy”. The evening is spent back at the Temple, which shines even more at night.
Tired and very dehdrated, it was worth queueing to go and finally look inside. A constant reading of the Sikh holy book is maintained here from dawn until after 10pm when it is retired to it’s resting place. The temple is very ornate and is consantly being cleaned by volunteers and pilgrims. From the peaceful temple, it’s back to the bustling bazaars and bed.
Tags: Travel
Nick