Orchha-Varanasi; India

Yesterday the temperature reached 40 degrees and was unbearable. There's been air conditioning at all of the places we've stayed, but the dryness of the air is making my throat sore and facing the contrast of the temperature inside/outside the room is horrible. You can shower, but as soon as you turn off the water you immediately need another one.

Yesterday in Orchha I visited the home of a local woman who painted both of my hands with henna for 200 rupees (about £2) - she did a great job and I love the results. Whilst she was painting her 5 children (aged 6-12) quietly sat on the floor and diligently did their homework from textbooks - not a TV or tantrum in sight!

Overnight I took a 13 hour sleeper train from Jhansi to Varanasi, which was an experience! It was over 90 minutes late, which I'm told isn't late at all in India, and no-one seemed bothered when a cow wandered onto the platform and started eating out of bins. The train finally arrived, we hopped on, and my heart sank. We were travelling 3 tier, which means there were 3 tiers of beds. I think the term "bunk beds" is misleading, because it conjures up mental images of comfy childhood beds which had room for rolling over in. These hard mattresses didn't, and were shorter than I am. Sheets (which were starchier than the NHSs) were provided, but it was a bring your own pillow affair, so I improvised with some flip flops and a pashmina. I was in the middle of 3 beds, with fascinated Indian strangers all around me. Perhaps the most surprising part of the journey was that I got a solid 11 hour sleep and woke up in the morning feeling brilliant!

The train arrived in Varanasi, which is only 38 degrees today, and we went straight to a hotel. Most of the group were feeling a bit ropey  after the train and had a nap, but Clare and I are made of tough NHS stuff so had lunch an hit the spa. I cautiously opted for a much needed full body massage, clocked the size of the masseuse (4 foot something and skinny) and relaxed a lot. She didn't speak any English, nor I a word of whatever language(s) she spoke, so it was slightly awkward when I pointed to my left elbow and said "ow", hoping she'd stay clear of it. Instead she gave it extra special attention, and after using up all of the breathing and visualisation techniques I helpfully suggest to labouring women I heard a loud crack... and the pain went. She then gestured for me to roll over, and started massaging my abdomen... hard. I was anxiously thinking "I've got Crohn's and I've eaten a truckload of curry this week... push any harder and something might come out...", and then she moved upwards to rub my boobs. After 60 minutes of this shit I had several questions floating around my head, primarily: "where does she get her strength from?", "can she speak perfect English and is just messing with me?", and "is it sexual assault if I pay for it?".

In the evening we had a sunset boat ride on the Ganges, and dinner in possibly the worlds slowest restaurant. Booth deserve a proper write up, but it's late at night (thanks to the latter) and I've  got a 4:30 start for a sunrise boat trip,so stay tuned for an update tomorrow!

Love Emily x