"Hello, boat?"

After a couple of days in Delhi, we moved on to Varanasi, about 22 hours away on the train. Part way through the journey we were greeted by a goblin grandfather. He was adamant that we join the wedding party he was attending. Poor Daddy suffered the brunt of it and had to politely refuse this kind but potentially dangerous offer. The man was full of a boisterous curiousity, to the point where he began to read Rhiannon's private diary. He was clearly moved by what he read, even reading out a section for everyone else's consideration. She managed to get it back, and he wished for us all the dubious sounding blessing, 'may your teeth always be showing.'

At sunrise we arrived in Varanasi, tired and hot. After finding chai we took two rickshaws to the Main Ghat. We did not reach the main ghat by rickshaw. The taxi driver was in league with a hotel owner and we'd been scammed, Varanasi style. We escaped, however, and found our own way to the ghats. It was early morning and the light shone brightly on the Ganges. The three of us were very happy to show Mum and Dad a place that we love. The walk to the Main Ghat was long, interesting and hot by eight in the morning. A crowd of children surrounded us and we gave them chocolate Easter eggs, Daddy got them standing in line to stop their arguing.

The Ganpati guesthouse that we wanted to stay at was full, but we waited in their cafe and ate a much needed meal. In the visitors book, one traveller had left the comment, "The locals here are very friendly. They have renamed me 'Boat,' and say hello whenever they see me." Strangely, we were all to acquire the same name.

We stayed in another guesthouse, with a rooftop restaurant and friendly staff. We found out that we could buy beer here, and a fellow traveller noticed our bottles of Kingfisher on the table, looked very relieved, and ordered himself one straight away. Beer can be hard to come by in parts of India, so it's always welcome.

The days were spent wandering along the ghats, and through the busy, narrow lanes that make up the old city. One night we took out a boat and saw the evening Puja from on the water. Our boat was steered by a boy who must have been about 10 years old. After sunset, young men perform Puja which is a devotional offering. In this case it is to the river Ganga, and to Shiva. Varanasi is known as Shiva's city. Incense, torches and candles are used in the ceremony, which is accompanied by music.

We met a boy, about 14, but insisting that he was 20. He talked at length about the fact that you cannot take anything with you when you die, and he made some very true observations about life. He quickly developed a liking for Elen, and swore his love, and even asked her to marry him! The poor boy was quite embarasssed when she announced loudly in front of Mum and Dad- "I can't marry you! I already have a boyfriend!"

We managed to get a room at Ganpati guesthouse for our final night in Varanasi. The word is another name for Ganesh, and there was a beautiful painting of the elephant headed god on one wall, with butterfly wing ears. We returned to our first hotel for some final drinks, where we were warmly greeted by the staff. They even brought out their best tin goblets to serve our parting drinks in.

Another long train journey was ahead, this time to Haridwar, in the north. Once again we said goodbye to Benaras, feeling that we had barely touched its surface.