So where was I? Oh yes, we were loving India! That soon changed. Again.
On Thursday afternoon Paula and I, en route to Khajuraho, got an hour-long rickshaw to a train station in another town and we arrived five hours early because a travel agent had lied to us about how far away the station was in order to make more money from us. We were the only non-Indians out of literally thousands of people on the crowded platforms and every single one of them were staring at us like we were from outer space. There were hardly any woman or children around, mainly men and I couldn't tell who was homeless and who was waiting for a train because there were sleeping bodies covering the floor. There weren't any signs in English so we we had a hard time determining why our train still hadn't arrived by midnight. Groups of men would literally stop one meter in front of us and stare right at us for ages like we were animals at a zoo. It was very intense and sometimes felt quite intimidating; we'd say 'stop staring at us now!' but they'd just snigger and carry on and no one around us stood up for us. The night got darker and later and we were getting more and more miserable! I put my scarf over my head to cover my light hair and skin, in the hope that this would minimise attention, and sat on the platform floor that smelt like urine; it was so humid that we were soaked in sweat. A massive bull walked past and, as I was wondering how on earth it got on the platform due to all the steps, a man went up to it and started stroking it tenderly all over like it was a cat. Finally the train arrived three hours late (after a total of eight hours waiting at the station); our beds were in different carriages and whilst I tried to sleep two angry men shook me awake and made me put my backpack up in the bed with me (the luggage compartments were full with other people's bags). The beds are really narrow so with my small backpack as well there was hardly room for half of me; the train shakes a lot and I was high up so I was constantly worried that me or my bags would fall off and crush someone. The train arrived at our stop 7 hours late and we had to stay awake the whole time because no one could tell us when we'd be arriving and there are no announcements. We then got in a taxi and then on a four hour bus ride. We were at breaking point! When we got off we were surrounded by a swarm of rickshaw touts as usual but this time it was different because they were grabbing my arms and wouldn't stop even when I shouted at them. The only escape was to pick one and get in a rickshaw but once we were in about twenty men crowded around poking their heads and arms in as we negotiated a price. We begged the driver to go but he just smirked and continued arguing about the extortionate price he was trying to get out of us whilst the surrounding men laughed in our faces. When we finally got to our hotel in the town of Khajuraho we were exhausted, shaken up and extremely pissed off!
The monsoon season finished early in Khajuraho so it's off season here and there aren't many tourists. This makes the shop owners desperate and so they followed us up and down the street telling us to visit their shop and they wouldn't take no for an answer. The morning after we arrived we went for an Ayurvedic massage, it was just what we needed after the stress of the past few days however it was a little weird - the woman took three phone calls during my massage, her finger was in my belly button quite a few times and she karate chopped the sole of one of my feet!
The only reason we'd come to this town was to visit the ancient Kama Sutra temples; tourists come here to see the raunchy sculptures that adorn the walls. We hoped we'd see some really filthy sculptures to justify the trip to this horrible place and we weren't disappointed! These temples are made out of sandstone and are covered in erotic sculptures, many of which have had their heads removed years ago by plundering muslims. In one of the temples a man made us go in a small, dark, stone chamber and gave us incense to wave in circles around a statue; he insisted that we join in with his chanting but we didn't know the words and were trying really hard not to laugh. Afterwards he predictably tried to get us to 'donate' some money to him - nothing is free here, not even incoherent chanting!
On Thursday afternoon Paula and I, en route to Khajuraho, got an hour-long rickshaw to a train station in another town and we arrived five hours early because a travel agent had lied to us about how far away the station was in order to make more money from us. We were the only non-Indians out of literally thousands of people on the crowded platforms and every single one of them were staring at us like we were from outer space. There were hardly any woman or children around, mainly men and I couldn't tell who was homeless and who was waiting for a train because there were sleeping bodies covering the floor. There weren't any signs in English so we we had a hard time determining why our train still hadn't arrived by midnight. Groups of men would literally stop one meter in front of us and stare right at us for ages like we were animals at a zoo. It was very intense and sometimes felt quite intimidating; we'd say 'stop staring at us now!' but they'd just snigger and carry on and no one around us stood up for us. The night got darker and later and we were getting more and more miserable! I put my scarf over my head to cover my light hair and skin, in the hope that this would minimise attention, and sat on the platform floor that smelt like urine; it was so humid that we were soaked in sweat. A massive bull walked past and, as I was wondering how on earth it got on the platform due to all the steps, a man went up to it and started stroking it tenderly all over like it was a cat. Finally the train arrived three hours late (after a total of eight hours waiting at the station); our beds were in different carriages and whilst I tried to sleep two angry men shook me awake and made me put my backpack up in the bed with me (the luggage compartments were full with other people's bags). The beds are really narrow so with my small backpack as well there was hardly room for half of me; the train shakes a lot and I was high up so I was constantly worried that me or my bags would fall off and crush someone. The train arrived at our stop 7 hours late and we had to stay awake the whole time because no one could tell us when we'd be arriving and there are no announcements. We then got in a taxi and then on a four hour bus ride. We were at breaking point! When we got off we were surrounded by a swarm of rickshaw touts as usual but this time it was different because they were grabbing my arms and wouldn't stop even when I shouted at them. The only escape was to pick one and get in a rickshaw but once we were in about twenty men crowded around poking their heads and arms in as we negotiated a price. We begged the driver to go but he just smirked and continued arguing about the extortionate price he was trying to get out of us whilst the surrounding men laughed in our faces. When we finally got to our hotel in the town of Khajuraho we were exhausted, shaken up and extremely pissed off!
The monsoon season finished early in Khajuraho so it's off season here and there aren't many tourists. This makes the shop owners desperate and so they followed us up and down the street telling us to visit their shop and they wouldn't take no for an answer. The morning after we arrived we went for an Ayurvedic massage, it was just what we needed after the stress of the past few days however it was a little weird - the woman took three phone calls during my massage, her finger was in my belly button quite a few times and she karate chopped the sole of one of my feet!
The only reason we'd come to this town was to visit the ancient Kama Sutra temples; tourists come here to see the raunchy sculptures that adorn the walls. We hoped we'd see some really filthy sculptures to justify the trip to this horrible place and we weren't disappointed! These temples are made out of sandstone and are covered in erotic sculptures, many of which have had their heads removed years ago by plundering muslims. In one of the temples a man made us go in a small, dark, stone chamber and gave us incense to wave in circles around a statue; he insisted that we join in with his chanting but we didn't know the words and were trying really hard not to laugh. Afterwards he predictably tried to get us to 'donate' some money to him - nothing is free here, not even incoherent chanting!
The main temple site.
My personal favourite.
An Indian couple really wanted a photo of me with their son. Why??? I honestly don't know! He was very cute though.
Whilst we were in Khajuraho also went to a national park where there is a 60m waterfall.
The guide insisted on taking cringey photos of us in different novelty poses with our cameras but we did have a laugh doing it.
I'm not sure what this one was supposed to be.
Oh gosh Jennifer!...you have come across some strange and 'different' adventures along the way ha!...I like your 'yes and no and maybe' attitude to the area!... x
ReplyDeleteThat statue is so funny!! I opened your blog at work and got called into a meeting but forgot to lock my screen, so they were all laughing when I got back and were wondering why I was looking at sexual statues at work!!ha!!xxx
ReplyDeleteNo way!!! Haha!! You perve! Xx
ReplyDelete