Varanasi | A Must-Be-In City
Varanasi – a city that breaks down and puts it back together
Varanasi is shocking at first glance – as is all of India, except for its beach resorts. I flew to Varanasi from Nepal, thinking I was already prepared for this city. But the reality was quite different.
Arrival and First Challenges
An hour and a half on the plane – and here I am at Varanasi airport. And immediately a challenge: no Wi-Fi, no SIM cards, no currency exchange. My SIM cards didn't work in India, I only had US dollars, and I had no hotel reservations. I encountered my first snags at immigration. Advice: prepare the address and name of your hotel in advance, even if it's fictitious – it needs to be included on the arrival form.
The next challenge: cash. You have to have it! I can call an Uber, but for some reason my Hong Kong eVisa didn't go through the system. Ultimately, I had to ask for help – and, thank goodness, it was found.
First impressions of the city
On the road to Varanasi—chaos, dirt, poverty, noise, cows, motorcycles, rickshaws, endless honking. Arriving at the guesthouse near the Ghats, I experienced another shock—narrow streets, flies, feces, unimaginable smells. When I reached the river, I didn't expect to see tent camps, which at first glance looked like a gathering of homeless Hindus. The Aghori seemed to me like a bunch of loafers, beggars, living on handouts.
I was invited to the ashram for food. I ate sitting on the floor, alongside the Hindu believers. Miraculously, I survived, but I don't even remember the taste of the food—it was too emotional.
And in the evening—Manikarnika Ghat, ritual cremations. After visiting Pashupatinath in Nepal, I thought I was prepared for this, but this was the final blow to my perception. Everywhere: fire, ashes, garlands of light, crowds of people, laughter, flashing lights, an Aghori with a sword wrapped around his penis—all in one place. A complete mind-blowing experience.
Returning to my 2,000-ruble room, I found it windowless, 6 square meters, and smelled of mold. But at least there was a toilet. Luckily, I had a sleeping bag, pillowcase, and a cashmere throw blanket with me. The Indians were making noise in the hallway until late at night, but I didn't react—I grabbed earplugs, put on a blindfold, covered my head, and just lay down. Then I realized: I didn't want to go anywhere else. My India was over before it had even begun. I booked a ticket to Kazakhstan in two days.
A Turn of Events
The next morning, I started texting a friend who was already in Varanasi. She understood my situation and supported me, but regretfully said she'd hoped I'd at least go to Goa for a week, where I wouldn't have experienced such a shock.
I listened to her. I transferred my ticket and decided to fly to Goa.
In the meantime, I changed my location: I moved to the Quality Inn, a little further from the Ghats (3 km). It was the best decision. For the first time on the entire trip, I took a full shower, slept in a clean bed, and simply felt comfortable.
But I still had two more days in Varanasi.
Inner Turning Point
On the second day, I climbed up to the roof of the guesthouse and saw a new sun. Something inside me began to change. I gained determination and strength. And then the system restricted my writing (#varanasi #varanasi)