Gretch and I decided to break up our trip to Allahabad with a nights stop in Chitrakut. Chitrakut was a two legged buss ride from Khajuraho. Each bus ride was four hours long. We left at around nine and arrived in Chitrakut, exhausted, around 8.
The local busses in India deserve a paragraph if not a book. This is where patience and tolerance is foremost. It is a basic process. Get on the bus at its origin as to get a seat. We are not big people, comparable to Indians if not a bit thicker (more protien). But the seats are designed for children. From tail bone to knee cap I have to shove my legs in between seat backs. I always take the aisle, allowing the lovely Miss Gretchen the comfort of window and privacy cushioning. The buss fills immediatly. Fills immediatly. And stops constantly. Stops constantly. And refills. And stops. And refills. And stops. A 50 mile trip will take a good three hours. Imagine one of those 1950's era college pranks of kids stuffing into a phone booth. This is not far from the reality of a local Indian bus as it reaches full capacity. Although the concept of full capacity is relevent or understood in India. Train is the desired form of transportation here, but the bus is always a sure shot. Imagine you need to go to Minneapolis from Rochester. Or Brainerd to St. Cloud. Or Bloomer to Ladysmith. No matter where you are you can get where you want to go. It is given. The frequency of busses is on most occations no more than a half hour in my experience. And as long as the sun hasn't set you're good to go. Many of the tourists here absolutely refuse to take the local bus.
Back to Chitrakut. Chitrakut is considered a "mini Varanasi". There is a river with ghats. Many pilgrims. Puja. Boatmen. It was very relaxing for us. We stayed at place with a large deck overlooking the whole scene. That evening we had our first "real" Indian meal. The beautiful south Indian Thali, sucked down with a couple Coca-colas. In the morning we took a boat ride down the ghats and were off, via local bus, to Allahabad.
The great things about Chitrakut were its size and lack of hassles. I will say pretencioulsy, we were probably the only white people there. Off the tourist trail, although not obselete, we were never approached by touts. We could have stayed another night but we really wanted to make it to Allahabad for the evening of the 28th. So we left.
The local busses in India deserve a paragraph if not a book. This is where patience and tolerance is foremost. It is a basic process. Get on the bus at its origin as to get a seat. We are not big people, comparable to Indians if not a bit thicker (more protien). But the seats are designed for children. From tail bone to knee cap I have to shove my legs in between seat backs. I always take the aisle, allowing the lovely Miss Gretchen the comfort of window and privacy cushioning. The buss fills immediatly. Fills immediatly. And stops constantly. Stops constantly. And refills. And stops. And refills. And stops. A 50 mile trip will take a good three hours. Imagine one of those 1950's era college pranks of kids stuffing into a phone booth. This is not far from the reality of a local Indian bus as it reaches full capacity. Although the concept of full capacity is relevent or understood in India. Train is the desired form of transportation here, but the bus is always a sure shot. Imagine you need to go to Minneapolis from Rochester. Or Brainerd to St. Cloud. Or Bloomer to Ladysmith. No matter where you are you can get where you want to go. It is given. The frequency of busses is on most occations no more than a half hour in my experience. And as long as the sun hasn't set you're good to go. Many of the tourists here absolutely refuse to take the local bus.
Back to Chitrakut. Chitrakut is considered a "mini Varanasi". There is a river with ghats. Many pilgrims. Puja. Boatmen. It was very relaxing for us. We stayed at place with a large deck overlooking the whole scene. That evening we had our first "real" Indian meal. The beautiful south Indian Thali, sucked down with a couple Coca-colas. In the morning we took a boat ride down the ghats and were off, via local bus, to Allahabad.
The great things about Chitrakut were its size and lack of hassles. I will say pretencioulsy, we were probably the only white people there. Off the tourist trail, although not obselete, we were never approached by touts. We could have stayed another night but we really wanted to make it to Allahabad for the evening of the 28th. So we left.
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