Khajuraho

Spent 11 hours traveling to Khajuraho, at the recommendation of a slightly batty American woman I met in the gardens of the Taj Mahal. The air conditioned train journey to Jhansi was freezing, and I and all my seat mates had the same cold, so we huddled in shawls and sniffed sympathetically with each other. Then the typical train station rickshaw experience. The driver takes you slowly to your destination, while his friend hops along for the ride and tries to convince you to go to his hotel/take his tour/use his taxi. Made it to the bus stand (filled with garbage and the odour of urine), and waited 1.5 hours for the next "express" bus to Khajuraho. Then five hours on an un-air conditioned carriage, crammed in with my fellow passengers. It only really became hell when the bus stopped and all air movement ceased as the driver and his two helpers tried to drum up more business. They were standing packed in the aisles by the 3rd hour, and I was very glad for my window seat. The temples here are worth the ride though, and the hotel is so clean I didn't wear my flip flops in the shower, and they even provide soap, sheets and a towel. $10 a night versus $5 is blowing the budget, but I'm happy for the pampering. No air conditioning though, so the 40+ temperatures are gruelling.

Walked around the temple complex this morning. The sweat was pouring off of me, but the carvings are amazing, the gardens are beautiful, and there are no touts allowed inside. I've uploaded some of the photos, but it's hard to describe how cool they are. Each temple features literally thousands of statues in full relief, with a particular focus on women. There are scenes from every day life (a woman picking up a child, two lovers dodging a monkey), gods and goddesses, lots of war scenes, and some pretty intense erotica. The funniest might be the man fucking a horse, as a women covers her eyes but peeks through her fingers, half horrified, and half intrigued. All perfectly preserved in the soft sand stone, which with the color and the movement of light and shadow as you walk around the building almost makes the images come alive. The sculptors must have loved their job, as each figure is an individual, with a unique facial features. They might show the same god in three successive panels, but each one features a different pose. Worth the heat, which is saying a lot. Then spent an hour under the trees at the refreshment stand, drinking coca-cola and talking to a local MPTD official (Malay Pradesh Tourist Department). He moved here from Delhi, but regrets that the railroad will soon come to Khajuraho, bringing hordes of tourists. I can't imagine how that will change this place. Good for the local economy, and would be happy to be spared the bus ride, but it's nice to be a a sleepy Indian village.