So, we've talked of many an uncomfortable journey but the train from Agra to Varanasi definitely topped our list. With our last minute sleeper class ticket we knew we weren't going to be in the lap of lucury however none of us could have anticipated the sheer volumes we would perspire. Squashed onto PVC half metre wide bunks we endured 14 hours of hell before finally peeling ourselves reluctantly from them to discover our clothes were salt-sweat stained and sodden. Liv aptly captured the feeling upon awakening, declaring 'I feel like a slug..'
Once we finally found our hotel we had an amazing shower and enjoyed the feeling of cleanliness for precisely 2 seconds before the sweat began to pour once more and we were informed that it was 48 degrees. The heat wsa like nothing we'd experienced before - the only way to describe it is like walking into a sauna fully clothed and not being able to get out. We spent most of our time skulking in the shadows, cafe hopping from once lemon soda to another.
Definitely one of the highlights of Varanasi, besides the incredible sights and wonderful architecture was 'Vaatika Pizzeria' that provided us with a total of 13 extra large, thin crusted, Italian style pizzas and 11 beautifully beautiful apple crumbles laden with dollops of creamy vanilla ice cream. Not a whiff of a lentil or curry leaf in sight!
The best way to see Varanasi is by boat, where you see a great view of the Ganga and the burning ghats. The burning of the bodies was not quite the shocking sight we had expected, in fact there was something quite harmonious and beautiful about it. However, whilst gliding down the river Ganga, the sun shining its golden light upon the soft rippling water, we were totally enraptured by the ethereal ambiance. Then suddenly out of nowhere bobbing along amongst the lotus offerings, was a bulbous, bloated, decomposing, swollen body of a holy man - apparently they don't burn those fuckers!!
After watching the ceremony of strange sadhus waving candles and incense, we stopped for chai and salted biscuits at a riverside stop. Our deeply religious boatman, concerned for his and our karma, to our horror, gave the final 5 biscuits to a pack of wild, mangy dogs. Feeling the hole in her stomach, Ana dishearteningly  proclaimed: 'karma, shmarma, gimme a biccie!' We're just glad they have their priorities straight.....
We gave our Indian host an equally shocking sight - post shower we naturally pranced around our room with a towel covering only our locks, unaware that the 'tinted gauze' covering the window was not so tinted at all! 10 mins later we were taken aside and told sheepishly by Diamond the manager 'Anaji, the curtains....you must use them'. LOL oops. Quite a sight we're sure....
Other experiences in Varanasi included getting lost in the cobbled streets of the old city and making a few more unnecessary purchases, consuming the best lassi we've had to date and dodging the chanting processions of bodies to be burned.
From Varanasi to Rishikesh, we're here at our penultimate destination and our last INDIAN blog entry, sniff sniff (Olivia), is soon to follow!!

Some Photo's ...finally

Ramika and Vignesh, Two cuties.

Bus Stop.

Standard 'Ana enjoying ice cream' Pic

Shirley and Thriveni

Shreya, one of the crew

Typhoid. Looking good Mil

Picnic in Udaipur

Pretesh, Lucy's man..lol

Manjunat, looking fish-eye

Bamu shoving a bit of mental in Liv's shnoz

Harish and Manoj

Getting ready for the Wedding, with Beth and Deepu

Saris at the Wedding

R.C.B..looking good ladies

Bride and Groom

Deepu and Punit

Smitha and Mil

Some of the girls at the Dina Sabha

5am arrival

The 'teachers' at St Angela's

Goats in the hallway

The kids at Mil & Liv's school

Leaving Dina Sabha

Hampi

Effing Camels (note this is 5 mins into the journey, hence the smiling faces)

Sunset

Desert Goddesses

Lucy amid the arches

Ellies!!!

The one and only time we got drunk...

Taj.

So, the most amazing thing has just happened - best moment of the whole trip, possibly our lives. As mentioned in a previous blog, we left the girls at the nunnery with the promise that a signature from Virat Kholi was on the way. After having no news of its whereabouts, it had slipped from our minds until about half an hour ago when we received an email titled 'SURPRISE' from the mighty Mon (Monica). In the contents of this wonderful email Monica informed us of the news that Virat would take it 'one step further' AND...tomorrow morning he will walk through the gates of the convent accompanied by press and a band of photographers to spend the morning with the girls. To put this into better context - it's the equivalent of David Beckham visiting a tiny unknown charity full of children who've been abandoned due to an illness that is no fault of their own. These girls rifle through the daily newspaper and keep a scrapbook containing cuttings of all his pictures, hiding it from the view of the sisters, He's going to walk the sandy path that we walked ever day and drink chai made by Chenda from the same cups that we did. This tiny nunnery will never have received so much attention or contained so much excitement. Although we are OVER THE MOON we can't believe we're experiencing this from afar and only wish we could see their faces as their hero walks into their home to their utter surprise  Can't really communicate via the blog how incredible we feel bringing sop much happiness to these girls who we are so fond of/ No doubt photos and press releases are to follow. WOW.

Moving on - an experience less joyful  we'll recall our experience in Jaisalmer. Following the advice of many travellers we decide to ride the animal of love on a camel safari for two days in the Thar desert. Romantic our fucking still painful, bruised arses. It started well - the first five minutes was the idyllic experience we imagined; equipped with turbans we resembled four Lawrence of Arabias, bouncing gracefully through the sandy desert. As time passed by, the discomfort increased, the sweat built up and instead we began to resemble four bedraggled sweaty forms, quite ready to leave the barren landscape and return to our straw mattresses. The silver lining on our dreadful experience was the amazing stargazing we were so looking forward too. However, as six o'clock struck so did the rage of the gods - sand whirlwinds blasted past us, thunder rattled the sky and the rain began - classic us - rain in the bloody desert! The camels bolted into a sprint to shelter - our limbs flailing everywhere - even Liv wished she had worn a sports bra! Once we reached the derelict shell of a building we swept goat shit from under out feet and erected a tarpaulin. We looked up at the sky and witnessed a beautiful array of sweet eff all! What was to be the only highlight of that two day marathon was falling asleep to the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel and a cool breeze -  well, not quite a breeze, more like a hurricane that whipped off our duvets every 5 minutes. C'est la vie! Next day was to take a plummeting turn for the worst. The almost 50 degree heat scorched our bodies and our bums, back and thighs received a battering that we are still recovering from  Sipping boiling hot water gave us no refreshment yet we trolloped on creating mirages of salami, brie. french bread and ice cold elderflower - anything but bloody chapattis!!!! When we finally reached our conclusive destination we had never been so delighted to see an Indian man in a jeep coming to pick us up. (By the way - this is what we looked like in the desert! 

After we thought we'd had our fair share of horrendous transport there was more in store for us -  we then had to endure 14 hours of rock hard seats, sweltering heat and the delightful company of many a staring Indian man on a FILTHY, piss smelling coach. Welcome to Jaipur - 11.30 in the middle of bloody nowhere  bundling into another rickety rick(shaw) we were so close to comfort when Lucy's bag decided to leap put of the boot into the middle of a busy, Indian motorway junction. It was speedily recovered and we arrived at our 'oasis of calm'. Our days in Jaipur were spent acquiring bizarre purchases such as a 3000 rupee bedsheet for Lucy and three identical rabbit wool scarves for Olivia - not quite sticking to the budget we set for our selves...

We're now stuck in Agra, or Agshithole due to the chaotic train booking system here in India. The Taj Mahal was of course magical, but other than that  we're just too fucking hot, on and Liv has the shits, Happy Days.

PS. This blog was written a few days ago, the Virat occurrence actually happened yesterday morning. Here are some links and photos....

http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/slideshows/may-17-2013/virat-kohli-interacting-with-children-in-bangalore/slideshow/20104178.cms

Next stop Udaipur, and was the journey one to remember or was it one to remember?!
Middle of the night we woke up to a stray foot lurking below our feet. We looked around to find Indian men sprawled across the isle - limbs stuffed in every orifice of the coach, all eyes on us. The rest of the night we spent with our knees to our chest to avoid any suggestive footsy playing!

After only planning on staying in Udaipur for two nights we are still here after a week - one of the locals! It is impossible to walk down the street without being stopped to join our various friends for chai. Jewellery shops seem to be our key to joining the various social networks of India.
Day 1 - we planned to take a short walking tour of the city - ten minutes in and we were shopping - classic. After popping in to a weapon shop where Milly got her nose pierced, we met Bamu...and it all began, our first rung of the Udaipurian social ladder had been climbed! As chai turned to beer and beer to whiskey the night progressed and we were introduced to our Indian family! Before we knew it we were chopping chillies in the courtyard of a beautiful old Haveli and enjoying the delightful company of numerous Indian men. It was a great first night in Udaipur.
In the same way that we were adopted by new friends, we had our own addition to the group - hi Beth! - and we are now the Fab Five!
Next day under the false impression that we were being taken on a tour of the town, we ended up on the back of motorbikes once more, heading to a horse ranch in the middle of Rajasthany countryside. Sat under a massive mango tree we had an Indian style picnic to soak up the whiskey and beer that had been consumed ridiculously early in the morning.
We returned home in the early evening to a wonderful home cooked dinner with the fam and some of their friends, one of which took a particular liking to the Rebecca Broooks-esque one of our group...we say no more..

After two days of socialising we realised we hadn't seen any of the sights so dragged ourselves to the City Palace - a beautiful maze of mosaics and Maharaja what-not. Inspired by what she had seen, Ana headed to the nearest turban shop and bought a maharaja hat, much to the delight and amusement of all who saw her. She then strutted down the streets welcoming stares and handshakes bestowed upon her with all the grace and superiority of a true maharaja. Other highlights of Udaipur include lounging by a rooftop pool surveying the view, and indulging our artistic tendencies in the form of miniature paintings. We finished the day by watching the Udaipur-set James Bond film, Octopussy on yet another rooftop.
Next day the excitement proved almost too much to handle...whilst chillin' with the fam, they received a phonecall informing them that we had been invited to join them at their cousin's Brahmin wedding. We leapt from our seats and exploded with sheer joy and excitement before the realisation dawned on us that we had exactly 1 hour to pick up the others, check our of our hotel, re-schedule our bus out of Udaipur, transport our bags to a new hotel and buy Lucy a sari. All hell broke loose as we sprinted, shrieking with joy through the streets of town. 45 minutes later we found ourselves back at the house, one stylist per person wrapping us up in our saris. We bundled into a tuc tuc, six per vehicle, the weight almost proving too much as it struggled up the hill, actually rolling backwards before we gained speed and charged full speed ahead (5mph) to the opulent location. Upon arrival we suddenly felt under dressed and in awe at the wealth of sequins, bangles and twinkly lights dripping from the guests and the trees. We milled around feeling dazed and amazed before being approached by the sister of the bride who announced that the family had requested that we do the honour of carrying the veil-equivalent over the bride as she walked down the aisle! FUCK! It was an indescribable feeling processing behind a crowd of dancers, drummers and photographers. It wasn't until afterwards that  we realised our performance was possibly not quite up to Brahmin standards and we received a few odd looks when we returned from the stage. Our saris had come unraveled, our arms were quivering with the strain of the scarf and we were all muttering swear words of astonishment under our breath. Our sweaty faces of disbelief will be in their photo album forever....
As Brahmins don't drink we turned to the only other form of intoxication available - PAAN! Basically tastes of gravely nail varnish remover wrapped up in a banana leaf topped with some moldy raisins - yumm...
Our wedding experience shortly moved from beyond belief to beyond bearable...as time rolled by and we were still there at 7am. Words cannot describe how tedious it was. The rest of the ceremony consisted of various bizarre rituals including gee rice being sprinkled on the head, mothers wailing, and the fat groom struggling to carry his bride around a fire!

Our last night in Udaipur was spent with Milly in bed and the rest of us paired up with our new Indian pals. We returned to the cinema for a second viewing of the Bollywood love story Aashiqui2, Ana and Liv were curled up on the super comfy cinema seats, sharing their sarong as the  only source of warmth from the bloody freezing AC. Meanwhile, Aashiqui3 was taking place just one seat away. Again, we say no more...

The film finished and with that we zoomed home to our Haveli, only to realise that a certain someone had left their purse with all her money and our hotel key in it....obviously a little distracted. The boys  jumped back on their bikes to retrieve it - her knight in shining armour. Looking forward to our comfortable beds we were horrified to be told that we couldn't return to the Haveli as the police were roaming the streets...instead we had to sprint back to the house avoiding the police jeep. We ended up sleeping on the rooftop with only our sarongs for comfort, and spent the night trying to avoid various attempts at full body massages and unfortunate sleeping arrangements. As Lucy and Liv tried to steer conversation to more appropriate topics, all that could be heard was the faint cry of Ana pleading for 'just a head massage please!!'.
Definitely a night to remember...

PS. we've all got nits, thanks to rozza for the nit comb.

Fly by Mumbai

From Gokarna to Mumbai, from beach to city, rural to cosmopolitan. lol.
Our journey started somewhat slowly, piled on top of our bags in the middle of a coach park, we managed to attract quite a crowd of Indian men offering 500 rupees for a 'cheeky squeeze'. That nightmare was avoided rather craftily by claiming that we were married to various cricket players. Don't worry mothers,we are strong independent women and managed to repel the allure of sweaty Indian ice cream sellers!
After forking out nearly 1,000 rups for luxurious beds and air conditioning, none of us slept a wink aboard the coach so wish us luck for our up coming journey: 18 hours on a non-air conditioned non-sleeper bus. Fantastic.
We've all loved Mumbai, despite it being nothing like what we expected. Perhaps due to the fact that we are now beedie-smoking bindi-wearing locals, we haven't found the crazy traffic or mass poverty as overwhelming as we once thought it would be.
Within 10 minutes of walking the streets of the city, we inadvertently adopted a postcard seller who, after following us round for an hour began rambling on about his 'friend' Manju. We struggled to understand what the bloody hell  he was going on about till he whipped out a medical document that read 'schizophrenia'...we hurried into Starbucks to plan our escape! It was a success and accompanied with cappucinos we were free - hurrah!
Now, not only are we travelling through India but we are also making a career out of it, as that's right, you guessed it, supermodels. It all started on Om Beach, after sunset when Lucy Ann Reynolds aka Kate Moss and Cara Delevigne aka Ana Reis sold their first photo for a modest (yet promising!!) 40 rupees to half naked Indian men. It was only 10 mins before the profits were spent: on a plate of chips, essential in maintaining our supermodel physiques. Our next 'shoot' took a turn for the better, Ana and Lucy were joined by 2 other beautiful (yet less striking) models who took the form of Olivia Hemmings and Amelia Read. Standing under the Gateway of India, an iconic landmark, and posing with various Indians we managed to reel in money that would impress the likes of Naomi Campbell.
All the media attention got to our heads and we decided to check out the slightly more suitable accommodation of the Taj Mahal Palace. After browsing Prada and Dior one of us decided to make the most of the luxury and take a dump in the marble floored, rose scented toilets.
So it turns out we're a bit of a magnet for the loonies - after our schizophrenic there was an invitation to a 'private yoga session' and a fellow offering us a constant supply of paper napkins with 'GAYLORD' written over them to wipe the sweat from our brows! Yesterday our hotel received 3 phone calls asking after us from a mystery caller....it remains a mystery as to which one of our fans it was.
We decided that Mumbai would be the ideal place to have the ultimate Bollywood experience and so went to see the latest love story - Aashiqui 2 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIzQ8AU5LPI - couldn't understand a bloody word but loved it nonetheless, a highlight being the entire audience standing and singing the national anthem before the film commenced. From our knowledge of Bollywood films we thought we had the plot sussed: boy meets girl, singing, cheesiness and a big happy ending....maybe not. The end was a shocker but only left us wanting to see more and more! It has also proved seriously useful as the common ground with the Indians, making us extremely popular leading to many a spontaneous rendition of the famous songs!
As the true Shantaram fans that we are we followed in Lin's footsteps and spent an evening at Leopold's Cafe where we enjoyed the company of some hilarious singing Russians aided by a couple of the famous kegs of beer.

Stay tuned for the next entry coming to yours screens in the next half hour......