Travel blog: Pure Varanasi and the mighty Taj

Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his twelfth blog entry:

Kakarbhitta is on the brink of Nepal's far eastern border, so it was only a short rickshaw ride (30 rupees or 35p) across the Mechi river before I was back in India and heading towards Siliguri to get back on the train lines.

I was looking forward to a smooth and speedy return back south after 20 days of Nepal's buses had left me bruised and sleep-deprived, but I was unpleasantly surprised by an eight hour delay at New Jalpaiguri station - with no promise of a ticket at the end of it (at least I learnt why everyone books ahead!).

Luckily, a chat with the station manager conjured up a sleeping berth for me on the Mahananda Link Express (Class 2A for around 1,000 rupees or £12) and we chugged south overnight.

After 16 hours or so, my train pulled into Mughal Sarai Junction and I took an uncomfortable half-hour moto-rickshaw ride (110 rupees or £1.30) for the 10km to Varanasi - across some of the worst roads I'd experienced so far - before finding the Maruti Guest House near Assi ghat in the south of the city (double room for 250 rupees or £3 per night).

Slung along one bank of the Ganges, Varanasi was to be my last major stop in India. I saw this as fitting since the city is strongly connected with moving on to other places, albeit in a more definitive way than my flight to Singapore.

According to Hindu scripture, Varanasi exists in a permanent state of purity and has a direct connection to heaven along a column of light.

For this reason, burning ghats alongside the Ganges are the scene of thousands of cremations each year as devout believers give themselves the most auspicious send off by passing on in the city that Shiva made his home.

I set out to explore the city the next morning and walked northwards all the way along the ghats lining the Ganges to see the famed burning rituals for myself.

You can do the same trip by boat if you'd like to save your bare feet from the sun - and there's more than enough hawkers waiting along the riverside (from around 60 rupees or 70p from Assi ghat).

It may be an iconic image of Varanasi but tourists should note that taking photos of funeral ceremonies is strictly prohibited - show just as much respect as you would at home and you're welcome to watch.

Only male family members are allowed to conduct the cremation since it is reasoned that women are more likely to cry over their loss, which binds the departed soul to the earth - unwilling to leave their devoted loved ones.

Central to the ceremony is the one close family member that has been purified - washed clean, dressed in white and with a freshly shaven head.

He washes the body and lights the pyre from the eternal flame that he brings down from higher up on the ghat - some of which have reportedly been kept alight for over 6,000 years.

After the fire is started, the flames slowly lick over the gold-coloured shrouds hidden under the wooden pyres, turning it all to ash.

After three hours, the family return to deposit the ashes in the Ganges. According to Hindu belief, this gives the departed direct passage to nirvana.

But the material world is not completely forgotten as young men wait in the cloudy water to retrieve any jewellery still in good condition, which they are allowed to keep as a gift from the families.

Quietly watching these proceedings is the one thing that really has to be done if you visit Varanasi. And perhaps the most affecting part of all is simply the sheer number of funerals which take place each day.

This is especially noticeable at the busier Manikarnika ghat where the sandalwood fires carry on long after the sun sets - and often through the night - to deal with the demand.

In fact, whole buildings near the ghats are occupied by elderly Hindus just waiting to die so they can be sure of being cremated at the ghats only a few hours after they die as tradition dictates.

Only the rich can force their way into line, but for many staying so close is the only way they can guarantee their place in nirvana.

With more time available, I would have loved to spend time more time in Varanasi's bustling atmosphere - maybe taking meditation or yoga classes as many other travellers were - but I was in a race to get back to Delhi in time for my flight out of India, and I still hadn't even seen the Taj Mahal!

Luckily Agra is en route to Delhi, so I planned a night's stopover to let me visit my first world wonder. But again the trains had it in for me.

It wasn't my fault this time - I was waiting ticket in hand (350 rupees or around £4) - but a nine and a half hour delay (really!) meant that we pulled out of Varanasi around half two in the morning.

The trip was one of my best, however, as I was adopted by an entire Indian family who had me playing guitar for the kids most of the way.

The only hiccup was an unscheduled change of trains to avoid racial unrest further up the line, which extended our 12-hour journey.

All these delays meant I had the grand total of two hours in Agra to see the Taj Mahal and get back to the station for the fast train to Delhi.

Luckily, some other travellers were keen to catch the white marble turn pink at sunset and we banded together for a fleeting visit to the mausoleum.

We'd no time for the full tour, but we figured - what with the Taj being symmetrical and all - we wouldn't miss a huge amount by heading across the river and looking at the back.

It turned out that this avoided the crowds milling about the monument (and the 800 rupee or £9.40 entrance fee) while still getting a more than impressive view.

We took the obligatory posed pictures and then rested on the banks of the Yamuna River to watch the mood of the place change as the sunset reflected off the marble.

After dark, it was another breakneck dash back to the station - only to find that even the so-called express service had been delayed!

It was the perfect end to a ridiculous day, and capped my time in India with another of the country's marvellous, endearing and frustrating contradictions. Next up: Singapore and the rest of south-east Asia.

Nick Claxton