Potatoes and Ruins

Today we headed off to see the remains of Paharpur Buddhist monastery. Originally, planned to be a fairly short trip. However, on the way were delayed in a town where what appeared to thousands of tons of potatoes in big hessian sacks were being delivered to a central market. The hundreds of trucks & PNCs formed a melee in the centre of town totally blocking traffic movement in either direction through out the whole place. They were wheel to plumber with little room to pass.

Potato Commerce

Rather than sit - fuming - on the bus we decamped on mass and attempted to walk down the road until the bus caught us up. With the road blocked we had to thread our way through the road stall, mountains of loose potatoes and little huddles of men buying & selling. For a while, I found a first floor platform from which I could, covertly, watch the ebb and flow of commerce below. However, after a while, others joined my in my eyire and the tables were turned. We were noticed by the crowd and below became a sea of up-tuned faces and mobile phones.

We again decamped from the bus when we came across a failed bridge and it had to negotiate precarious earth ramps down into the riverbed and up again. We carried on walking through the village, collecting the usual herd of smiling children and passing often shy & bemused adults. We were invited to visit one of the villager's houses - I usually find such visits to be slightly too much like a human zoo. However, the family seemed genuinely pleased to welcome us - even cooking us some sweet sticky 'pancakes'. We weren't alone as most of the village also crammed into the courtyard around which the family's rooms were built.

Paharpur

This monastery was once the largest monastery south of the Himalayas with a site that covers 27 acres. The massive quadrangular structure is contained within a boundary made up of 177 cells and a traditional Buddhist stupa in the centre. The rooms were used by the monks for accommodation and meditation. In addition to the large number of stupas and shrines of various sizes and shapes, terracotta plaques, stone sculptures, inscriptions, coins, ceramics etc. have been discovered and some were on display in the museum. Opposed to yesterday's sites, there were hundreds of local tourists picnicking in and around the site, school were being harangued by frazzled teachers, party music blared from trumpet speakers and, inevitably, a few stalls selling shlock & tat.

After this visit we returned to Bogra for lunch and then headed to Mahasthangarh. 

This is the earliest urban archaeological site so far discovered in Bangladesh and contains the remains of an ancient city which was called Pundranagara or Paundravardhanapura. The fortified city's heyday was under the Buddhists who were here until at least the 11^th century AD but the fortified area was in use till the 18th century AD. 

Together with the ancient and medieval ruins, the mazhar (holy tomb) of Shah Sultan Balkhi Mahisawar built at site of a Hindu temple is located at Mahasthangarh. He was a dervish (holy person devoted to Islam) of royal lineage who came to the Mahasthangarh area, with the objective of spreading Islam among non-Muslims. He converted the people of the area to Islam and settled there.

After touring the site returned to Bogra for our second night. After a quick beer in next door's bar, we headed into town to a restaurant that had a Chinese feel - very discretely they too were able to provide a can of imported beer to support our excellent repast

Dhaka

Parliament

Dhaka – Bangladesh's capital - is a megacity and one of the major cities of South Asia with a population of over 12 million. This makes it the largest city in Bangladesh and the 9th largest city in the world – it is also among the most densely populated cities in the world.

Curzon Hall

In the morning we went go on a guided orientation tour which included some of the principal sights of the city including the Liberation War Museum which graphically illustrated the battle / genocide that led to East Pakistan breaking away from the larger / oppressive West Pakistan - including the blind-eye turned by most of the world to the bloody conflict. We also visited the Lalbagh Fort, the Curzon Hall in the University and the Parliament building.

In the afternoon we took a boat trip along the Buriganga River. In the distant past, the Ganges used to reach the Bay of Bengal through the Dhaleshwari river. This course gradually shifted and ultimately lost its link with the main channel of the Ganges and was renamed as the Buriganga.

We joined the myriad of other crafts from cargo vessels to small canoes. The country's rivers are its lifeblood, irrigating its fertile plains and providing transport connections. It's even a place to live for the Bhadja (river gypsies) who move as a clan in their houseboats from river to river – allegedly, it is one of the best places from which to observe the life of this. However, we saw no sign of this romantic bunch - just the local washing themselves and their clothing in the water running sluggishly past their hovels.

However, the river is unfortunately Dhaka's main outlet of sewage waste - newspaper articles in 2004 indicated that up to 80% of its sewage was untreated. A number of industries, including tanneries also discharge their chemical waste in to the river. Luckily, during the monsoon flood the river is "flushed" every year.

Almost Sinking

On the banks there were numerous shipyards building new vessels and mending older ones - the ring of heavy hammers on thick steel plate must have been like that on the banks of the Clyde and in Belfast in their prime. There was a constant stream of small-ish vessels loaded with enough sand to push the hull into the water until the gunnels were under water. Big passenger ferries backed with humanity surged past us and little row boats with one or two passengers being taken from one bank to another. Where there were no ship yards there was a myriad of activity : un/loading all manner of goods, sleeping, laundry, a naval minesweeper, a small floating dry dock. I think we could all have spent much longer observing the pulse of river life.

Pink Palace

Following this, we visited the Pink Palace – an old impressive building which has been turned into a museum with a good historical collection. There were impressive iron gates into this site - looking back as we walk in the bars of the big double gates were being grasped by a solid wall of males looking in at our party. The smaller gate for pedestrians was similarly lined by females - there is evidently a gender split even in rubbernecking !

From here we walked on through the narrow lanes of old Dhaka - squeezing into the sides to let the constant stream of cycle rickshaws to pass, fielding innumerable queries of "where are you from", getting an insight into local life and being importuned to take picture of or with locals.

There was very slow trip back to the hotel through the disappearing light and the grindlingly slow traffic. Sitting behind the driver, it was frightening to see how close some of the vehicles come to each other - and more importantly - to our bus. So close, o very close but no contact. However, many of the buses and trucks seem to be more filler than original metal and many of the newer cars have added metal nudge bars.
It was quite late when we eventually arrived back at the hotel. So about half elected to eat in and the remainder (including yours truly) went out to a local eatery for an excellent meal. Whilst we had taken our bus there, we had let our driver have an early night and took cycle rickshaws back home. All was going well until the frame of one broke and pitched one of us into the road. Luckily, she was only shaken but had a lucky escape the vehicle was just about to overtake.
 This has been written as I've watched the Irish beat England in the cricket World Cup and my Celtic roots came to the front !

To Dhaka

Oft we jolly well go again - down to Heathrow on yet another trip. All the hassles with visas should now be behind me but I still have to see when I present my passport to a succession of ten immigration officers - all of whom would probably prefer to be watching the cricket World Cup rather then dealing with a group of foreign tourists.

The flights were indistinguishable from all other international trips, except for two points. On the flight to Delhi we had a very flash touch-screen entertainment system. I watched "True Grit wasn't a patch on big John Wayne's version and the "Kings Speech" during which I fell asleep - so much for the Oscars ! We shared the flight from Delhi to Dakar with the West Indies cricket team - so big and so black - who are to play Bangladesh on Friday - it should be a lively place where ever we are that night.

The country below us seemed to be a smaller version of England - or at least from several thousand feet. However, the patchwork of green English fields the size of duvet covers was replaced by pocket handkerchief ones. Even in the large mega-cities there seem to be remnants of green fields & woods surviving amongst the urban press. The countryside was slashed by the pale winding courses of many rivers and there was evidence everywhere - in the form of floods - of the recent rains.

Dakah was the the epitome of all sub-continent town - noisy and crowded with people and vehicles without break. There were the ever present Tuk Tuks which here are evidently called CNGs after the fuel they all use - compressed natural gas. Past the army's sports stadium with a couple of defunct howitzers at the gates and then, a couple of hundred metres down the road, a couple of aged motor torpedo boats (+ a couple of torpedoes) mounted outside the navy's HQ. As ever, spaghetti of electrical cabling hanging from various poles impressed.

Our party is to be 16 strong - but when we slope off to bed (about 2100 for a 0700 breakfast) we are still missing two whose flights have been delayed. It looks as if the gender split will be 33% : 66% in 'favour' of the girls. As usual we are drawn from across the world : the majority from the UK, a few from North America and, unusually, only one Aussie. However, I did manage to mistake a Cornish/London accent for Aussie - not sure how long it will take me to live that down : I suspect at least three weeks. The tour leader - Laura - is from the UK and our paths had crossed before - last December in Damascus where the group she was leading was leaving just as we arrived : I think I saw her over breakfast

Visas 3

Three working days ! ! !  I knew things had been going too well.

It's taken 19 working days to finally collect my passport and visa.

First of all they wanted a letter from me confirming my travel plans - evidently the information in the two Explore letters wasn't sufficient.  I think it may have been too much : flight times/numbers etc etc for the whole holiday, whereas all they wanted was the where, when and how of the entry and re-entry to India.

Then they wanted clarification as to whether I wanted a Double or Multiple entry visa - the written advice from Explore had mentioned both and in the application I'd mentioned one and in my confirming letter I'd mentioned the other.

The next query was whether I really needed a Triple entry visa as I was changing planes in Delhi - I'd presumed that, as I was in transit, I would not need a visa covering changing planes.  I think there might of been some confusion arising from me leaving London on 28th February & flying out of Delhi on 1st March and February only having 28 days !

The final twist was when I went to the counter - after a very short wait - and they couldn't find my passport ! ! ! 

Never mind, I now have my passport back with both my Indian & Bangladesh visas.  The permit for Sikim and the visa for Bhutan are Explore's responsibility - I just have to remember to take with me a supply of passport photos and a copy of the Bhutan visa application which I sent to Explore.   What can go wrong ?

Visas 2

The Bangladeshi visa was there ready and waiting - only a short queue.  Unlike many visas nowdays, it wasn't a flash coloured printed stick-in one but a 'traditional' inked stamped one with the bits that the ink had messed being filled in with ball point pen.

So, on to acquiring the Indian visa which has now been sub-contracted to a private firm.  Their on-line process was quite painless but it didn't seem to recognise the temporary ID number it issued, so if you tried to save your information, it didn't recognise your ID and you had to start again.  You could pay on line and either print off your application form and post or take it to one of their offices around the country.

In Birmingham we are lucky enough to have one of these offices buried in the depths of the Jewellry Quarter (it's better to park across the Inner Ring Road where the parking is free & unrestricted and only a short walk from the office).  See 'Location' below for map of the office's location.

The security man just inside the door has a look at your application form and gives you a queue ticket.  He picked up that I'd stuck a normal passport photo on my application and was told that it wasn't big enough and had to use their photo-booth to get some 2cm x 2cm photos at a cost of £4 (the guys behind the counter were happy to provide change).  The queue moved quite quickly and I was out of the door in about 60 minutes.

There is an on-line facility to check the progress of your application - my passport should be ready in three working days.

Visas

The trip is now getting closer as today I pay the balance of the monies owed to Explore and start the visa application process.

After downloading the forms from the Bangladesh High Commission's website, I trotted off the the Assistant High Commissioner's Office in Birmingham with my letter of invitation, three passport photos and £40 in cash.  The office was on the second floor but I met the back of the queue before the door.  The small room was crowded with Bangladshis with both UK and home passports many with wives and families.  Many were reaching the front of the line - a small 2' square hole in the wall - and being sent off to get a copy of one document or another.  The Staples store just around the corner must have been doing a roaring trade.

When I reached the front my passport etc were taken off me and I was told to sit down and wait - wasn't sure what this was all about as nobody else had been asked to do this !  Twenty minutes later somebody emerged from a back room, smiled, gave me a receipt and told me to come back on Friday.  In all it must have took 90 minutes - not so bad but we shall see when I go back to pick up my passport.

Trip Summary

This is a journey with Explore on its "Inside the Hidden Kingdoms" trip in March 2011.

It covers some remote areas of the Indian sub-continent that remain off the main tourist trail and hence infrastructure and facilities can be basic at times. We were warned that we were in for some long mountain journeys and occasionally, difficult road conditions.

Our journey begins In Bangladesh - to be precise in the vibrant and bustling city of Dhaka. It's situated on the  mighty River Pemba (Ganges) and the aim will be to discover its ancient buildings and relics that define this remarkable country and its colourful past. Then it's off to the Buddhist ruins at Paharpur, the wonderful terracotta Kantanagar Hindu temple - hopefully gaining an understanding of the daily lives of the people in this little-visited, friendly country.

Crossing into India, we head towards the imposing mountain peaks, and on to the delightful hill station of Darjeeling (2430m). Along winding roads, we head Sikkim, and the Pemayangtse Monastery, an important monastery for the Red Hat sect of Buddhism and continues to Gangtok, the capital of this former kingdom. This is a a land of hidden valleys and small villages : rice paddies are contrasted with thick forest, surrounded by high snow-capped peaks which are synonymous with this region.

Continuing overland to Kalimpong, before continuing to Bhutan.  Bhutan only opened up in the 1970s, and has tightly controlled the number of visitors, allowing a wonderful insight into a traditional way of life.  After time in Thimphu, it's Eastwards across the Dochu Pass (3050m), through rural Bhutan to Punakha. Here is seen the impressive Punakha Dzong (fortress monastery), before driving to Paro, from where it's winding journey through oak and pine forest up to the sacred remains of the Taktsang 'Tigers Lair' monastery.  Luckily, we are in Paro during the annual Tsechu Festival with sacred dances, retelling of holy stories and big markets.

Finally, there's a flight to Kolkata (Calcutta) for some final sightseeing in this vibrant Indian / Bengali city.