Omkareshwar: A Day Trip

I woke feeling slightly more human this morning so, despite still having a funny tummy, we went in search of breakfast. Breakfast came in probably its most interesting form yet. Some kind of spiced smushed rice (or other unknown carbohydrate) with coriander, sprinkled with dry crispy noodles and red onion all served on a piece of newspaper (to be used as a bowl) while we stood in the street. Served from the giant roadside wok with the man's bare hands and eaten with a spoon that god knows how many people have eaten with...and I wonder why I get sick.
Once we got Big Red back down the ramp this morning we realised he was out of petrol. We switched his fuel tank to reserve and set off towards Omkareshwar with our fingers crossed. Thankfully we found a petrol station before he conked out. When we asked the man to fill the tank we expected just that. We hadn't expected that, in an attempt to get the meter to reach 900 rupees, he would fill the tank until it overflowed all over the bike and then keep going. We were charged the 900, despite the meter never reaching that amount and despite and the last 50 worth or so going all over Big Red, and Chris.
We cleaned up and continued but it wasn't long before breakfast wanted out of my sensitive digestive system. It is extremely hard to find a spot to 'do your business' roadside in India. With our previous research informing us of there being 383 people per square kilometre, it is little wonder. Finally we found the perfect bush and, thankfully, I had remembered the toilet paper. There's no time for being classy in India.

Namanda River, Omkareshwar

On a similar note, I mentioned to Chris yesterday, as we walked down the road in matching fleece jumpers and hiking boots (thankfully the zip-off pants had been left at home for that outing), that we certainly were not the kind of people who managed to pull off 'cool' while travelling. Chris quickly explained that in a 30 litre backpack, when you're away for six months, there is no room for cool. I guess that works for class too.
We rode into bustling Omkareshwar down a narrow road lined with markets selling all things Hindu and, more specifically, all things Shiva. We parked up, I made a puppy friend, and we headed off over the old bridge to the spiritual island of Godarpura which sits in the middle of a river. Yes, river. Finally! Water. And this water was, for the most part, clean and flowing strongly downstream.

Kumkum sales

The path leading from the bridge to Shri Omkar Mandhata temple was alive with markets specialising in souvenir linga and kumkum (the coloured powder that gets dotted on people's foreheads). We checked out the bathing ghats before deciding to escape the hustle and bustle and explore the island on foot. The path followed the river West and basically took us on a complete loop of the island.

Godarpura Island

Lauren and Shiva

Stairs meant that cars were nonexistent over this side of the island and a lack of tourists meant a lack of touts. It was peaceful and calm and, despite climbing up and down hills in the heat, it was a lovely walk. I was even lucky enough to have a kid tell me he loved me. The fact that he spoke no other English is irrelevant. Eventually our loop bought us back to the touristy side of the island and we wandered past a giant statue of Shiva before exploring Siddhanatha Temple and its intricately carved but crumbling walls.

Chris at Siddhanatha Temple

Bathing ghat, Omkareshwar

Eventually we found the 287 steps which lead back down to the ghat and back to normality. The path somehow led us into the famous Sri Omkar Mandhata temple without our realising it. We were asked to remove our shoes but once everybody realised that we were just trying to find our way out, they let us slip through a narrow opening, down some stairs, under a few railings and back to the bustling market with shoes on. It is quickly becoming apparent why no locals wear closed in shoes...too hard to take on and off.
The amount of pilgrims on the island had escalated since our walk began so we took that as our cue to leave. We crossed back across the old bridge past beggars, dreadlocked holy men, stuffed tigers, photo salesmen, cows, goats, dogs and donkeys and found Big Red where we left him.
On the ride home we were determined to find a vegetarian lunch that I might be able to stomach so when we came across a large establishment that advertised 'pure veg' in big, bold, English letters we couldn't say no. It was evident how long we have been in India when, in wanting something familiar for my stomach, we ordered a paneer butter masala, veg biriyani and tandoori roti. It went down well but would stay in my system just slightly longer than breakfast. We continued on the journey home.
Chris is getting quite good at pointing in one direction to make me look that way when there is an unappealable sight in the other direction. The dead dog yesterday was a good example. Today, he tried this tactic again but failed. I saw the cow, that we both thought was dead, lying in the middle of the road. But, thankfully, he lifted his head as we went past and gave himself a good few licks. He'd just been enjoying the sunshine, knowing full well that he was holy and people would try their hardest not to run him over.
When the road opened up on the ride home, and we were alone on the road, away from other idiot road users, it was a beautiful moment...just the three of us...riding in the sun through rural India.
Upon our arrival home, I was filling a bucket to flush the toilet with. Yes...we're getting quite good at it now. And, while Chris would later inform me that this toilet did in fact have a flush of sorts, it was lucky I was filling the bucket when I did. I had used the hot tap figuring that, because we apparently only had hot water for a few hours in the morning, it wouldn't make a difference. When I turned the tap off I noticed it was hot! Yes! Hot water actually flowing from a tap and from a shower head rather than from a bucket. We took full advantage while we could and showered, loving every minute of the afternoon hot water.
After a late lunch, and with my belly still doing funny things, we wouldn't need a big dinner so we headed out to grab a few supplies that hopefully would stay in my tummy. In an attempt to taste familiar food we returned with Cadbury Fruit and Nut Chocolate, crackers that are somehow (as they proudly advertise) both sweet and salty, sugar free biscuits, toothpaste, samosas and Indian Hair Oil that will hopefully treat my dry, damaged locks.
Upon our return home, Chris sat on the bed in his undies and a t-shirt, lent over a plastic bag, munching on his samosas and I sat, all rugged up, eating dry crackers. So romantic.
Miscellaneous Observations:
More often than not, when we see humans interacting with animals here, the animals are being mistreated. Whether people are keeping birds in minuscule cages, packing live chickens into overfilled wire cages, hitting dogs or tying cows to trees so they can barely bend to eat...it's been an eye opener. So, it was quite ironic when Chris read a quote from Mahatma Ghandi (the man who has a street named after him or a statue of him in most towns) which read "the greatness of a nation, and its moral progress, can be judged by the way in which its animals are treated." Sort of says it all.

Cricket, Godarpura Island