Worlds Apart - PART 8

16th February 2004: Khajuraho.

Couldn’t help using the squat toilet this morning but I think I’m kinda getting used to them. I considered it probably best to ‘get it all out’ rather than wanting to take a dump during our four-hour bus drive from Orcha. Having that weight off my mind certainly helped me appreciate the scenery. The countryside was green and lush, a pleasant change from the dry, dusty roads we’ve been used to. Unfortunately there were a few places along the roadside where the Indian people had captured bears from the surrounding hills and attempted to get tourists to stop to watch them dance … in exchange for money of course. They do this by putting rings through their noses. By yanking the attached chain the bear hops from foot to foot as it winces in pain. Delighted onlookers presumably think they’ve been trained to do it. We were asked to draw the curtains on the bus and ignore them.

Hired some bikes this afternoon for the princely sum of twenty pence. They’d seen better days but were more than adequate for our tour of the Eastern temples and the old town. Near one of the temples we happened upon a very old man living in a makeshift tent. As we arrived, he waved frantically to get our attention. Assuming he was in distress we dumped our bikes and headed up the small mound to see what all the fuss was about. He didn’t speak a word of the Queen’s, but we soon realised he was preparing to lift a stone weight - you’ve guessed it, in exchange for money - with his … cock. Now, this stone was about the size and weight of an anvil. The man, having lifted up his smock, revealed he hadn’t been blessed with the largest of appendages but seemed keen on giving it a bloody good go. After a couple of minutes of watching him ferreting about with his tackle, bandaging it up and huffing and puffing, I decided to go and look at the temple instead. When I emerged some fifteen or so minutes later, unsurprisingly, he still hadn’t lifted a sausage. It was as much as the poor man could do to stand up for heaven’s sakes. He eventually gave it up as a bad job but demanded money from the people who’d stayed for his twenty-minute presentation on how to bandage a tiny and slightly injured penis. Needless to say nobody paid and duly left with dismissive waves. The man stamped his foot and shuffled back inside his tent. It makes me wonder if at any point he truly believed he was going to do it. Maybe he was just having an off day. What a way to earn a living.

We went out this evening. My first proper meal since being ill and I thoroughly enjoyed it despite my ‘special’ lassi failing to come up with the goods.

17th February 2004: Khajuraho.

Today was the main event for us in Khajuraho with a tour of the magnificent western temples. Built in around 1000 A.D, there were originally eighty-five temples, twenty-five of which remain today. They’re famous for their highly detailed stone carvings, depicting positions from the Kama Sutra. Apparently it’s a popular honeymoon destination for Indians with many newly-weds coming here to find out what it’s all about, so to speak. I confess to not having read the thing, but I don’t imagine sucking off horses, shagging various other animals and homosexual sex is featured in the Kama Sutra. It was explained to us many of the scenes had drawn on accounts from the battlefield. Women obviously weren’t prevalent during times of war and so men had to make do with pleasuring themselves, each other and any other wildlife they could lay their hands on. Perfectly reasonable explanation then, problem solved.

In the afternoon we hired jeeps and ventured to a canyon and waterfall where we saw crocodiles, antelope and deer. I had a go at driving the dilapidated jeep but the seat wasn’t adjustable. I found it very difficult to control the vehicle on bumpy track roads with my knees around my ears.