Latest news with #Baithak
The Advertiser
14-05-2025
- The Advertiser
Living gods, ancient rites: journey through the heartlands of India and Nepal
"No phones. No cameras. No talking." After delivering these terse instructions, the man disappears from the open window. There's a hush of anticipation from those gathered in the courtyard below before a child's face appears, her lips and cheeks scarlet, her eyes winged with black. Some people bow their heads and fold their hands in supplication, others just look up at her, spellbound. Ethereally beautiful with porcelain skin and an elaborate headdress, she regards us solemnly, seeming to rest her eyes on each person by turn. It feels like barely a minute before she steps back from the window and the man pulls the wooden lattice closed. We have just had a brief audience with the Kumari, the living goddess, a 10-year-old child believed by the Hindus to be the reincarnation of the warrior goddess Taleju, while Nepal's Buddhists credit her with being the tantric goddess Vajradevi reborn. Both believe she's capable of healing the sick with her blessing. This is just one of many pinch-me experiences in an action-packed 12-day tour of Kathmandu and India's Golden Triangle. It's my first time on a group tour and at a meet and greet on the first afternoon, I'm relieved to find everyone seems very nice. There's a mix of older couples and friends, a mother and daughter, plus myself and one other solo traveller, 18 of us in total, from Australia, the US, the UK and Singapore, plus Insight Vacations' tour director Virendra and in Nepal, our local guide Milan. After a bicycle rickshaw ride through the crammed laneways of Thamel, where strings of prayer flags flutter overhead and the smell of cooking wafts from street stalls, our drivers skilfully navigating pedestrians, bikes, sidewalk vendors and surprisingly well-cared-for street dogs, our group gets further acquainted at dinner. Baber Mahal is a series of restored courtyards and stables of the former residence of descendants of Nepal's longest-ruling prime minister and is now home to galleries, shops and restaurants like Baithak, where we enjoy a thali and toast the start of our adventure with a shot of fiery local liquor. The following day is the eve of Maha Shivaratri, Shiva's birthday and our first stop, Pashupatinath Temple is already thrumming with crowds. Milan tells us that Nepal celebrates 401 festivals each year and tomorrow, hundreds of thousands of devotees will flock here to honour the god, making campfires along the river and smoking marijuana, the only day it's legal to do so. We walk along the waterway lined with temples and shrines, where people sit cross-legged selling garlands of marigolds and small lotus lamps that buyers light and launch into the river. We are trailed by vendors - extraordinarily beautiful women entreating us to buy their jewellery or woven cloth purses. Sadhus, holy men with painted faces and knotted ropes of hair, sit on a bench, posing for pictures in exchange for rupees. As non-Hindus, we're not allowed into the actual temple, but we stand on the bank of the sluggish Bagmati River watching the action and listening to the resonant rumble of chants and prayers. Life and death are lived in the public eye here and somehow it doesn't feel intrusive or macabre to be observing from a distance the outdoor crematoriums, where families gather to farewell their loved ones who have been wrapped in white sheets and placed on burning wood pyres. Thick plumes of smoke rise and curl around sloped pagoda roofs where monkeys, indifferent to the human dramas being played out below, groom each other or squabble. Our itinerary includes a visit to Boudhanath Stupa - one of the biggest stupas in the world - with two giant eyes painted on its golden tower. Buddhist monks perform "koras" walking around its base, rolling prayer wheels while other devotees prostrate themselves in the courtyard. We call into the Thangka Painting School beside the stupa to watch artists, seated on the floor who paint intricate mandalas used for prayer or meditation, in colours made from ground semi-precious stones such as turquoise and lapis lazuli, many taking years to complete. Constructed in the shape of a mandala, Patan, in the Kathmandu Valley, once known as: "Lalitpur, City of Fine Arts", dates from 225 BCE. We wander through the Royal Palace buildings, admiring the intricately carved stone and wood temples and browse the bronze and stone sculptures, woodcarvings and photographs at the Patan Museum. On a hill above the valley, up 360-something steps is Swayambhunath, aka the monkey temple, one of the most venerated Buddhist stupas in the world and - at more than 2600 years old - one of the oldest. In addition to the stupa (and the many entertaining monkeys) are shrines, temples and monasteries and if not for the smog, a beautiful panorama of Kathmandu. One of the most ubiquitous local products, sold in every souvenir shop and hawked by countless street traders, is the singing bowl, used for both meditation and healing. They cost just a few dollars but the real deal, made from seven types of metal, can fetch hundreds, we learn at a singing-bowl centre. Despite some initial scepticism, everyone in the group ends up taking a turn standing in a huge bowl while the owner runs a gong around the rim until it begins to hum, the intense reverberations travelling through our bodies supposedly unblocking chakras, and reducing aches and pains. At Bhaktapur, Nepal's former ancient capital where Bertolucci's Little Buddha was filmed, we wander a square filled with temples with intricately carved facades, multi-storied pagodas and shrines. Some are still in a state of disrepair while others have been rebuilt following the devastating 2015 earthquake. Bhaktapur is also famous for its artisans, painters, wood carvers and potters, and in Pottery Square, we watch the latter work in tiny open studios facing the street, spinning wheels with the local dark mud, their wares lined up under the sun to dry. The characteristic brick and wood temples, palaces and pagodas of Kathmandu's Durbar Square, date from the 11th to 17th centuries. Once the homes of the Malla and Shah kings who ruled the city, they've also been rebuilt post-earthquake. After exploring this extraordinary UNESCO site and our audience with the Kumari, at the House of Living Goddess in the south of the square, we amble down "Freak Street", where flower children and musicians such as Jim Morrison and Cat Stevens hung out in the 70s when Kathmandu was an essential stop on the hippie trail. Today, the trail many visitors choose to follow is north to the mountains, to trek or climb. We're not here for either, but on our last night in Nepal, Maya Sherpa, a famous mountaineer and guide who has climbed eight out of 14 of the world's highest peaks, gives a fascinating talk about what it's like to conquer Everest and K2. The closest we get to Nepal's most legendary peaks is the view of the Annapurna Ranges from the plane as we fly across it into India. The city is far greener than I'd imagined, with wide tree-lined avenues. We visit Hindu places of worship and elaborate marble mosques and pay homage to one of India's greatest statesmen, Mahatma Gandhi, at his flower-bedecked memorial. Delhi is also home to the largest wholesale spice market in the world, Khari Baoli, which we explore on foot. We are all connected via an earpiece so can hear Virendra's commentary even if we have to walk the teeming narrow alleyways in single file. Men perch on sacks, smoking, or weave through the crowds with bags on their shoulders, while shoppers pick through knobs of yellow-dusted turmeric and small fiery chillies, pods of cardamom, and rolls of cinnamon bark. Back on the bus, our next stop is the golden-domed Gurdwara Bangla Sahib Sikh temple, once a Rajput King's home. Its marble gates are inlaid with semi-precious stone and a holy bathing pond attracts the faithful, seeking a cure for their ailments. The temple also has a cavernous space, called the langar hall where people come to eat, sitting on the floor. The mosque feeds everyone for free, regardless of religion, race or financial circumstance - up to 40,000 per day and more on holidays, Virendra tells us. On a tour through the massive kitchens, we watch volunteers stirring pots the size of witches' cauldrons, filled with fragrant lentil dhal, while outsized deep-fry baskets are plunged into hot oil and women chat around a low table while shaping flatbreads. We end the Delhi visit with a trip to Humayun's Tomb, commissioned by Empress Bega Begum for her husband Emperor Mirza in 1572 at a cost of 1.5 million rupees. A massive red sandstone edifice, almost Taj-like in its grandeur and surrounded by Persian-style gardens, it's a reminder of the astonishing wealth this country once boasted. It's a six-hour drive to Jaipur in Rajasthan, but between taking in the passing scenery and chatting with fellow travellers, it passes quickly. I'm surprised at how green this desert state is, but Virendra tells us there's been an unusual amount of rain over the last few years. Jaipur aka the Pink City dates from 1726 with the buildings painted pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876. Our coach deposits us at Man Sagar Lake, where a snake charmer plays a flute-like "pungi", a hooded cobra swaying in its basket and a sign warns that crocodiles inhabit the water. Built in the middle of the lake, seeming to float on its surface, is the Water Palace, Jal Mahal, a Rajput-style palace built in the 1700s by a maharajah as a hunting lodge. We travel by jeep convoy up the plateau to Jaipur's most famous landmark, the Amber Fort, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, passing tourists who have chosen to ride elephants up, a practice I'm grateful Insight eschews. The massive 16th-century stronghold constructed from pink and yellow sandstone feels surreal, like an opulent movie set. With a designated meeting place, our group splits up and we wander through ornate gateways, covered in exquisite Islamic-style tiling and into open courtyards. In a colonnaded hall, a bride in a heavily beaded sari is having a pre-wedding photo shoot with her groom. I walk up the fort's ramparts, for the 360-degree view of the shimmering lake and the Aravalli hills. We also visit City Palace, a royal residence constructed in 1732 combining elements of Mughal and Rajput architectural styles, then experience some of Jaipur's famous arts - printing and gemstones. At an atelier, we watch lengths of pure Indian cotton being hand-stamped with wooden blocks, before moving to a gem showroom to see precious and semi-precious stones cut and polished and turned into exquisite jewellery. I ask to be shown the most expensive piece and the owner fetches an emerald and diamond ring worth a cool $780,000. It's an early morning start to beat the crowds at the Taj Mahal. It's cool and there's a slight haze that only seems to accentuate the ethereal quality of what is said to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The white marble shrine was built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, in 1648 at a cost of 32 million rupees or about $1291 million today. Virendra points out where some of the semi-precious stones in the facade have been chipped out and stolen, in spite of the heavy security. The tomb is surprisingly compact inside but is surrounded by a 17-hectare complex, including gardens and a mosque whose two towers have a slight outward lean, purposefully constructed so that in the event of an earthquake, they'll fall away from rather than onto the tomb. After a visit to the imposing 17th-century Agra Fort, there's a choice of activities, either a guided walk through a local village or a visit to Sheroes Hangout. This cafe is run by women who've been the victims of acid attacks, targeted by rejected suitors or as part of a feud against their families. Their stories are horrifying, but despite their trauma, these brave young women face the public daily, with optimism and self-belief. The bill for the simple but excellent food is by donation and there are handicrafts and souvenirs to buy, with sales contributing to supporting the women in their medical recovery, legal pursuit of their attackers and job training. After flying to Varanasi, we have time to freshen up before heading out again. Running through the holiest of Indian cities is the most revered of rivers, the Ganges, said to have the powers of purification. Below a trio of massive praying hand sculptures on the bank, we climb into a wooden boat for a sail down the river as dusk falls, with flowers and diyas - little oil lamps - floating past. There are 84 ghats along the river, buildings with steps down to the water, where each evening, the Ganga Aarti ritual plays out. We tie up alongside other boats to witness the exuberant Hindu spiritual ceremonies, where priests swing multi-tiered oil lamps, accompanied by the crowd's rhythmic chants and ringing bells to honour the river goddess Ganga. It's frenetic and an utterly mesmerising spectacle. Varanasi is as equally important to the Buddhists. Sarnath, about 11 kilometres from the city, is one of the most important pilgrimage sites for them, as the place where Buddha himself first preached to his five disciples below a bodhi tree, which still exists today. There's a huge stupa and a large expanse of gardens, but the monasteries, once home to nearly 3000 monks and dating from the 3rd century BCE are ruins, destroyed by Muslim invaders, and over subsequent centuries, further looted. Even the bricks of the Dharmarajika Stupa, believed to have contained the bones of the Buddha, were taken in 1794 to use for construction, the bones thrown into the Ganges, the fate of the gems unknown. Other excavations, in the early 20th century, found artefacts now on display at the Sarnath Archaeological Museum. It's our last evening in India and we share a convivial final group dinner at the hotel, comparing our personal highlights, toasting the end of the trip with a very fine glass of local red and vowing to stay in touch. The writer was a guest of Insight Vacations The Tour: Insight Vacation's Classic India and Nepal tour costs from $6995 per person. From December, the company will also be offering the tour on some dates as a women-only trip with a few different experiences, from $7750. Getting around: Travel is by coach and plane. There are two longish travel days on the coach, but there are frequent rest and lunch stops. Three short flights are also included, two on Air India and one with low-cost carrier IndiGo. Accommodation: All hotels are four or four-and-a-half star, with pools, spas and often extensive gardens. The food: Most meals are included. Those that are not are taken at pre-arranged restaurants as a group or can be taken at the hotel. The verdict: Our tour director was excellent and very knowledgeable, as was our guide in Kathmandu. I'm far less apprehensive about the idea of group travel now and would definitely do it again, particularly to destinations that can be more challenging to navigate solo. "No phones. No cameras. No talking." After delivering these terse instructions, the man disappears from the open window. There's a hush of anticipation from those gathered in the courtyard below before a child's face appears, her lips and cheeks scarlet, her eyes winged with black. Some people bow their heads and fold their hands in supplication, others just look up at her, spellbound. Ethereally beautiful with porcelain skin and an elaborate headdress, she regards us solemnly, seeming to rest her eyes on each person by turn. It feels like barely a minute before she steps back from the window and the man pulls the wooden lattice closed. We have just had a brief audience with the Kumari, the living goddess, a 10-year-old child believed by the Hindus to be the reincarnation of the warrior goddess Taleju, while Nepal's Buddhists credit her with being the tantric goddess Vajradevi reborn. Both believe she's capable of healing the sick with her blessing. This is just one of many pinch-me experiences in an action-packed 12-day tour of Kathmandu and India's Golden Triangle. It's my first time on a group tour and at a meet and greet on the first afternoon, I'm relieved to find everyone seems very nice. There's a mix of older couples and friends, a mother and daughter, plus myself and one other solo traveller, 18 of us in total, from Australia, the US, the UK and Singapore, plus Insight Vacations' tour director Virendra and in Nepal, our local guide Milan. After a bicycle rickshaw ride through the crammed laneways of Thamel, where strings of prayer flags flutter overhead and the smell of cooking wafts from street stalls, our drivers skilfully navigating pedestrians, bikes, sidewalk vendors and surprisingly well-cared-for street dogs, our group gets further acquainted at dinner. Baber Mahal is a series of restored courtyards and stables of the former residence of descendants of Nepal's longest-ruling prime minister and is now home to galleries, shops and restaurants like Baithak, where we enjoy a thali and toast the start of our adventure with a shot of fiery local liquor. The following day is the eve of Maha Shivaratri, Shiva's birthday and our first stop, Pashupatinath Temple is already thrumming with crowds. Milan tells us that Nepal celebrates 401 festivals each year and tomorrow, hundreds of thousands of devotees will flock here to honour the god, making campfires along the river and smoking marijuana, the only day it's legal to do so. We walk along the waterway lined with temples and shrines, where people sit cross-legged selling garlands of marigolds and small lotus lamps that buyers light and launch into the river. We are trailed by vendors - extraordinarily beautiful women entreating us to buy their jewellery or woven cloth purses. Sadhus, holy men with painted faces and knotted ropes of hair, sit on a bench, posing for pictures in exchange for rupees. As non-Hindus, we're not allowed into the actual temple, but we stand on the bank of the sluggish Bagmati River watching the action and listening to the resonant rumble of chants and prayers. Life and death are lived in the public eye here and somehow it doesn't feel intrusive or macabre to be observing from a distance the outdoor crematoriums, where families gather to farewell their loved ones who have been wrapped in white sheets and placed on burning wood pyres. Thick plumes of smoke rise and curl around sloped pagoda roofs where monkeys, indifferent to the human dramas being played out below, groom each other or squabble. Our itinerary includes a visit to Boudhanath Stupa - one of the biggest stupas in the world - with two giant eyes painted on its golden tower. Buddhist monks perform "koras" walking around its base, rolling prayer wheels while other devotees prostrate themselves in the courtyard. We call into the Thangka Painting School beside the stupa to watch artists, seated on the floor who paint intricate mandalas used for prayer or meditation, in colours made from ground semi-precious stones such as turquoise and lapis lazuli, many taking years to complete. Constructed in the shape of a mandala, Patan, in the Kathmandu Valley, once known as: "Lalitpur, City of Fine Arts", dates from 225 BCE. We wander through the Royal Palace buildings, admiring the intricately carved stone and wood temples and browse the bronze and stone sculptures, woodcarvings and photographs at the Patan Museum. On a hill above the valley, up 360-something steps is Swayambhunath, aka the monkey temple, one of the most venerated Buddhist stupas in the world and - at more than 2600 years old - one of the oldest. In addition to the stupa (and the many entertaining monkeys) are shrines, temples and monasteries and if not for the smog, a beautiful panorama of Kathmandu. One of the most ubiquitous local products, sold in every souvenir shop and hawked by countless street traders, is the singing bowl, used for both meditation and healing. They cost just a few dollars but the real deal, made from seven types of metal, can fetch hundreds, we learn at a singing-bowl centre. Despite some initial scepticism, everyone in the group ends up taking a turn standing in a huge bowl while the owner runs a gong around the rim until it begins to hum, the intense reverberations travelling through our bodies supposedly unblocking chakras, and reducing aches and pains. At Bhaktapur, Nepal's former ancient capital where Bertolucci's Little Buddha was filmed, we wander a square filled with temples with intricately carved facades, multi-storied pagodas and shrines. Some are still in a state of disrepair while others have been rebuilt following the devastating 2015 earthquake. Bhaktapur is also famous for its artisans, painters, wood carvers and potters, and in Pottery Square, we watch the latter work in tiny open studios facing the street, spinning wheels with the local dark mud, their wares lined up under the sun to dry. The characteristic brick and wood temples, palaces and pagodas of Kathmandu's Durbar Square, date from the 11th to 17th centuries. Once the homes of the Malla and Shah kings who ruled the city, they've also been rebuilt post-earthquake. After exploring this extraordinary UNESCO site and our audience with the Kumari, at the House of Living Goddess in the south of the square, we amble down "Freak Street", where flower children and musicians such as Jim Morrison and Cat Stevens hung out in the 70s when Kathmandu was an essential stop on the hippie trail. Today, the trail many visitors choose to follow is north to the mountains, to trek or climb. We're not here for either, but on our last night in Nepal, Maya Sherpa, a famous mountaineer and guide who has climbed eight out of 14 of the world's highest peaks, gives a fascinating talk about what it's like to conquer Everest and K2. The closest we get to Nepal's most legendary peaks is the view of the Annapurna Ranges from the plane as we fly across it into India. The city is far greener than I'd imagined, with wide tree-lined avenues. We visit Hindu places of worship and elaborate marble mosques and pay homage to one of India's greatest statesmen, Mahatma Gandhi, at his flower-bedecked memorial. Delhi is also home to the largest wholesale spice market in the world, Khari Baoli, which we explore on foot. We are all connected via an earpiece so can hear Virendra's commentary even if we have to walk the teeming narrow alleyways in single file. Men perch on sacks, smoking, or weave through the crowds with bags on their shoulders, while shoppers pick through knobs of yellow-dusted turmeric and small fiery chillies, pods of cardamom, and rolls of cinnamon bark. Back on the bus, our next stop is the golden-domed Gurdwara Bangla Sahib Sikh temple, once a Rajput King's home. Its marble gates are inlaid with semi-precious stone and a holy bathing pond attracts the faithful, seeking a cure for their ailments. The temple also has a cavernous space, called the langar hall where people come to eat, sitting on the floor. The mosque feeds everyone for free, regardless of religion, race or financial circumstance - up to 40,000 per day and more on holidays, Virendra tells us. On a tour through the massive kitchens, we watch volunteers stirring pots the size of witches' cauldrons, filled with fragrant lentil dhal, while outsized deep-fry baskets are plunged into hot oil and women chat around a low table while shaping flatbreads. We end the Delhi visit with a trip to Humayun's Tomb, commissioned by Empress Bega Begum for her husband Emperor Mirza in 1572 at a cost of 1.5 million rupees. A massive red sandstone edifice, almost Taj-like in its grandeur and surrounded by Persian-style gardens, it's a reminder of the astonishing wealth this country once boasted. It's a six-hour drive to Jaipur in Rajasthan, but between taking in the passing scenery and chatting with fellow travellers, it passes quickly. I'm surprised at how green this desert state is, but Virendra tells us there's been an unusual amount of rain over the last few years. Jaipur aka the Pink City dates from 1726 with the buildings painted pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876. Our coach deposits us at Man Sagar Lake, where a snake charmer plays a flute-like "pungi", a hooded cobra swaying in its basket and a sign warns that crocodiles inhabit the water. Built in the middle of the lake, seeming to float on its surface, is the Water Palace, Jal Mahal, a Rajput-style palace built in the 1700s by a maharajah as a hunting lodge. We travel by jeep convoy up the plateau to Jaipur's most famous landmark, the Amber Fort, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, passing tourists who have chosen to ride elephants up, a practice I'm grateful Insight eschews. The massive 16th-century stronghold constructed from pink and yellow sandstone feels surreal, like an opulent movie set. With a designated meeting place, our group splits up and we wander through ornate gateways, covered in exquisite Islamic-style tiling and into open courtyards. In a colonnaded hall, a bride in a heavily beaded sari is having a pre-wedding photo shoot with her groom. I walk up the fort's ramparts, for the 360-degree view of the shimmering lake and the Aravalli hills. We also visit City Palace, a royal residence constructed in 1732 combining elements of Mughal and Rajput architectural styles, then experience some of Jaipur's famous arts - printing and gemstones. At an atelier, we watch lengths of pure Indian cotton being hand-stamped with wooden blocks, before moving to a gem showroom to see precious and semi-precious stones cut and polished and turned into exquisite jewellery. I ask to be shown the most expensive piece and the owner fetches an emerald and diamond ring worth a cool $780,000. It's an early morning start to beat the crowds at the Taj Mahal. It's cool and there's a slight haze that only seems to accentuate the ethereal quality of what is said to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The white marble shrine was built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, in 1648 at a cost of 32 million rupees or about $1291 million today. Virendra points out where some of the semi-precious stones in the facade have been chipped out and stolen, in spite of the heavy security. The tomb is surprisingly compact inside but is surrounded by a 17-hectare complex, including gardens and a mosque whose two towers have a slight outward lean, purposefully constructed so that in the event of an earthquake, they'll fall away from rather than onto the tomb. After a visit to the imposing 17th-century Agra Fort, there's a choice of activities, either a guided walk through a local village or a visit to Sheroes Hangout. This cafe is run by women who've been the victims of acid attacks, targeted by rejected suitors or as part of a feud against their families. Their stories are horrifying, but despite their trauma, these brave young women face the public daily, with optimism and self-belief. The bill for the simple but excellent food is by donation and there are handicrafts and souvenirs to buy, with sales contributing to supporting the women in their medical recovery, legal pursuit of their attackers and job training. After flying to Varanasi, we have time to freshen up before heading out again. Running through the holiest of Indian cities is the most revered of rivers, the Ganges, said to have the powers of purification. Below a trio of massive praying hand sculptures on the bank, we climb into a wooden boat for a sail down the river as dusk falls, with flowers and diyas - little oil lamps - floating past. There are 84 ghats along the river, buildings with steps down to the water, where each evening, the Ganga Aarti ritual plays out. We tie up alongside other boats to witness the exuberant Hindu spiritual ceremonies, where priests swing multi-tiered oil lamps, accompanied by the crowd's rhythmic chants and ringing bells to honour the river goddess Ganga. It's frenetic and an utterly mesmerising spectacle. Varanasi is as equally important to the Buddhists. Sarnath, about 11 kilometres from the city, is one of the most important pilgrimage sites for them, as the place where Buddha himself first preached to his five disciples below a bodhi tree, which still exists today. There's a huge stupa and a large expanse of gardens, but the monasteries, once home to nearly 3000 monks and dating from the 3rd century BCE are ruins, destroyed by Muslim invaders, and over subsequent centuries, further looted. Even the bricks of the Dharmarajika Stupa, believed to have contained the bones of the Buddha, were taken in 1794 to use for construction, the bones thrown into the Ganges, the fate of the gems unknown. Other excavations, in the early 20th century, found artefacts now on display at the Sarnath Archaeological Museum. It's our last evening in India and we share a convivial final group dinner at the hotel, comparing our personal highlights, toasting the end of the trip with a very fine glass of local red and vowing to stay in touch. The writer was a guest of Insight Vacations The Tour: Insight Vacation's Classic India and Nepal tour costs from $6995 per person. From December, the company will also be offering the tour on some dates as a women-only trip with a few different experiences, from $7750. Getting around: Travel is by coach and plane. There are two longish travel days on the coach, but there are frequent rest and lunch stops. Three short flights are also included, two on Air India and one with low-cost carrier IndiGo. Accommodation: All hotels are four or four-and-a-half star, with pools, spas and often extensive gardens. The food: Most meals are included. Those that are not are taken at pre-arranged restaurants as a group or can be taken at the hotel. The verdict: Our tour director was excellent and very knowledgeable, as was our guide in Kathmandu. I'm far less apprehensive about the idea of group travel now and would definitely do it again, particularly to destinations that can be more challenging to navigate solo. "No phones. No cameras. No talking." After delivering these terse instructions, the man disappears from the open window. There's a hush of anticipation from those gathered in the courtyard below before a child's face appears, her lips and cheeks scarlet, her eyes winged with black. Some people bow their heads and fold their hands in supplication, others just look up at her, spellbound. Ethereally beautiful with porcelain skin and an elaborate headdress, she regards us solemnly, seeming to rest her eyes on each person by turn. It feels like barely a minute before she steps back from the window and the man pulls the wooden lattice closed. We have just had a brief audience with the Kumari, the living goddess, a 10-year-old child believed by the Hindus to be the reincarnation of the warrior goddess Taleju, while Nepal's Buddhists credit her with being the tantric goddess Vajradevi reborn. Both believe she's capable of healing the sick with her blessing. This is just one of many pinch-me experiences in an action-packed 12-day tour of Kathmandu and India's Golden Triangle. It's my first time on a group tour and at a meet and greet on the first afternoon, I'm relieved to find everyone seems very nice. There's a mix of older couples and friends, a mother and daughter, plus myself and one other solo traveller, 18 of us in total, from Australia, the US, the UK and Singapore, plus Insight Vacations' tour director Virendra and in Nepal, our local guide Milan. After a bicycle rickshaw ride through the crammed laneways of Thamel, where strings of prayer flags flutter overhead and the smell of cooking wafts from street stalls, our drivers skilfully navigating pedestrians, bikes, sidewalk vendors and surprisingly well-cared-for street dogs, our group gets further acquainted at dinner. Baber Mahal is a series of restored courtyards and stables of the former residence of descendants of Nepal's longest-ruling prime minister and is now home to galleries, shops and restaurants like Baithak, where we enjoy a thali and toast the start of our adventure with a shot of fiery local liquor. The following day is the eve of Maha Shivaratri, Shiva's birthday and our first stop, Pashupatinath Temple is already thrumming with crowds. Milan tells us that Nepal celebrates 401 festivals each year and tomorrow, hundreds of thousands of devotees will flock here to honour the god, making campfires along the river and smoking marijuana, the only day it's legal to do so. We walk along the waterway lined with temples and shrines, where people sit cross-legged selling garlands of marigolds and small lotus lamps that buyers light and launch into the river. We are trailed by vendors - extraordinarily beautiful women entreating us to buy their jewellery or woven cloth purses. Sadhus, holy men with painted faces and knotted ropes of hair, sit on a bench, posing for pictures in exchange for rupees. As non-Hindus, we're not allowed into the actual temple, but we stand on the bank of the sluggish Bagmati River watching the action and listening to the resonant rumble of chants and prayers. Life and death are lived in the public eye here and somehow it doesn't feel intrusive or macabre to be observing from a distance the outdoor crematoriums, where families gather to farewell their loved ones who have been wrapped in white sheets and placed on burning wood pyres. Thick plumes of smoke rise and curl around sloped pagoda roofs where monkeys, indifferent to the human dramas being played out below, groom each other or squabble. Our itinerary includes a visit to Boudhanath Stupa - one of the biggest stupas in the world - with two giant eyes painted on its golden tower. Buddhist monks perform "koras" walking around its base, rolling prayer wheels while other devotees prostrate themselves in the courtyard. We call into the Thangka Painting School beside the stupa to watch artists, seated on the floor who paint intricate mandalas used for prayer or meditation, in colours made from ground semi-precious stones such as turquoise and lapis lazuli, many taking years to complete. Constructed in the shape of a mandala, Patan, in the Kathmandu Valley, once known as: "Lalitpur, City of Fine Arts", dates from 225 BCE. We wander through the Royal Palace buildings, admiring the intricately carved stone and wood temples and browse the bronze and stone sculptures, woodcarvings and photographs at the Patan Museum. On a hill above the valley, up 360-something steps is Swayambhunath, aka the monkey temple, one of the most venerated Buddhist stupas in the world and - at more than 2600 years old - one of the oldest. In addition to the stupa (and the many entertaining monkeys) are shrines, temples and monasteries and if not for the smog, a beautiful panorama of Kathmandu. One of the most ubiquitous local products, sold in every souvenir shop and hawked by countless street traders, is the singing bowl, used for both meditation and healing. They cost just a few dollars but the real deal, made from seven types of metal, can fetch hundreds, we learn at a singing-bowl centre. Despite some initial scepticism, everyone in the group ends up taking a turn standing in a huge bowl while the owner runs a gong around the rim until it begins to hum, the intense reverberations travelling through our bodies supposedly unblocking chakras, and reducing aches and pains. At Bhaktapur, Nepal's former ancient capital where Bertolucci's Little Buddha was filmed, we wander a square filled with temples with intricately carved facades, multi-storied pagodas and shrines. Some are still in a state of disrepair while others have been rebuilt following the devastating 2015 earthquake. Bhaktapur is also famous for its artisans, painters, wood carvers and potters, and in Pottery Square, we watch the latter work in tiny open studios facing the street, spinning wheels with the local dark mud, their wares lined up under the sun to dry. The characteristic brick and wood temples, palaces and pagodas of Kathmandu's Durbar Square, date from the 11th to 17th centuries. Once the homes of the Malla and Shah kings who ruled the city, they've also been rebuilt post-earthquake. After exploring this extraordinary UNESCO site and our audience with the Kumari, at the House of Living Goddess in the south of the square, we amble down "Freak Street", where flower children and musicians such as Jim Morrison and Cat Stevens hung out in the 70s when Kathmandu was an essential stop on the hippie trail. Today, the trail many visitors choose to follow is north to the mountains, to trek or climb. We're not here for either, but on our last night in Nepal, Maya Sherpa, a famous mountaineer and guide who has climbed eight out of 14 of the world's highest peaks, gives a fascinating talk about what it's like to conquer Everest and K2. The closest we get to Nepal's most legendary peaks is the view of the Annapurna Ranges from the plane as we fly across it into India. The city is far greener than I'd imagined, with wide tree-lined avenues. We visit Hindu places of worship and elaborate marble mosques and pay homage to one of India's greatest statesmen, Mahatma Gandhi, at his flower-bedecked memorial. Delhi is also home to the largest wholesale spice market in the world, Khari Baoli, which we explore on foot. We are all connected via an earpiece so can hear Virendra's commentary even if we have to walk the teeming narrow alleyways in single file. Men perch on sacks, smoking, or weave through the crowds with bags on their shoulders, while shoppers pick through knobs of yellow-dusted turmeric and small fiery chillies, pods of cardamom, and rolls of cinnamon bark. Back on the bus, our next stop is the golden-domed Gurdwara Bangla Sahib Sikh temple, once a Rajput King's home. Its marble gates are inlaid with semi-precious stone and a holy bathing pond attracts the faithful, seeking a cure for their ailments. The temple also has a cavernous space, called the langar hall where people come to eat, sitting on the floor. The mosque feeds everyone for free, regardless of religion, race or financial circumstance - up to 40,000 per day and more on holidays, Virendra tells us. On a tour through the massive kitchens, we watch volunteers stirring pots the size of witches' cauldrons, filled with fragrant lentil dhal, while outsized deep-fry baskets are plunged into hot oil and women chat around a low table while shaping flatbreads. We end the Delhi visit with a trip to Humayun's Tomb, commissioned by Empress Bega Begum for her husband Emperor Mirza in 1572 at a cost of 1.5 million rupees. A massive red sandstone edifice, almost Taj-like in its grandeur and surrounded by Persian-style gardens, it's a reminder of the astonishing wealth this country once boasted. It's a six-hour drive to Jaipur in Rajasthan, but between taking in the passing scenery and chatting with fellow travellers, it passes quickly. I'm surprised at how green this desert state is, but Virendra tells us there's been an unusual amount of rain over the last few years. Jaipur aka the Pink City dates from 1726 with the buildings painted pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876. Our coach deposits us at Man Sagar Lake, where a snake charmer plays a flute-like "pungi", a hooded cobra swaying in its basket and a sign warns that crocodiles inhabit the water. Built in the middle of the lake, seeming to float on its surface, is the Water Palace, Jal Mahal, a Rajput-style palace built in the 1700s by a maharajah as a hunting lodge. We travel by jeep convoy up the plateau to Jaipur's most famous landmark, the Amber Fort, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, passing tourists who have chosen to ride elephants up, a practice I'm grateful Insight eschews. The massive 16th-century stronghold constructed from pink and yellow sandstone feels surreal, like an opulent movie set. With a designated meeting place, our group splits up and we wander through ornate gateways, covered in exquisite Islamic-style tiling and into open courtyards. In a colonnaded hall, a bride in a heavily beaded sari is having a pre-wedding photo shoot with her groom. I walk up the fort's ramparts, for the 360-degree view of the shimmering lake and the Aravalli hills. We also visit City Palace, a royal residence constructed in 1732 combining elements of Mughal and Rajput architectural styles, then experience some of Jaipur's famous arts - printing and gemstones. At an atelier, we watch lengths of pure Indian cotton being hand-stamped with wooden blocks, before moving to a gem showroom to see precious and semi-precious stones cut and polished and turned into exquisite jewellery. I ask to be shown the most expensive piece and the owner fetches an emerald and diamond ring worth a cool $780,000. It's an early morning start to beat the crowds at the Taj Mahal. It's cool and there's a slight haze that only seems to accentuate the ethereal quality of what is said to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The white marble shrine was built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, in 1648 at a cost of 32 million rupees or about $1291 million today. Virendra points out where some of the semi-precious stones in the facade have been chipped out and stolen, in spite of the heavy security. The tomb is surprisingly compact inside but is surrounded by a 17-hectare complex, including gardens and a mosque whose two towers have a slight outward lean, purposefully constructed so that in the event of an earthquake, they'll fall away from rather than onto the tomb. After a visit to the imposing 17th-century Agra Fort, there's a choice of activities, either a guided walk through a local village or a visit to Sheroes Hangout. This cafe is run by women who've been the victims of acid attacks, targeted by rejected suitors or as part of a feud against their families. Their stories are horrifying, but despite their trauma, these brave young women face the public daily, with optimism and self-belief. The bill for the simple but excellent food is by donation and there are handicrafts and souvenirs to buy, with sales contributing to supporting the women in their medical recovery, legal pursuit of their attackers and job training. After flying to Varanasi, we have time to freshen up before heading out again. Running through the holiest of Indian cities is the most revered of rivers, the Ganges, said to have the powers of purification. Below a trio of massive praying hand sculptures on the bank, we climb into a wooden boat for a sail down the river as dusk falls, with flowers and diyas - little oil lamps - floating past. There are 84 ghats along the river, buildings with steps down to the water, where each evening, the Ganga Aarti ritual plays out. We tie up alongside other boats to witness the exuberant Hindu spiritual ceremonies, where priests swing multi-tiered oil lamps, accompanied by the crowd's rhythmic chants and ringing bells to honour the river goddess Ganga. It's frenetic and an utterly mesmerising spectacle. Varanasi is as equally important to the Buddhists. Sarnath, about 11 kilometres from the city, is one of the most important pilgrimage sites for them, as the place where Buddha himself first preached to his five disciples below a bodhi tree, which still exists today. There's a huge stupa and a large expanse of gardens, but the monasteries, once home to nearly 3000 monks and dating from the 3rd century BCE are ruins, destroyed by Muslim invaders, and over subsequent centuries, further looted. Even the bricks of the Dharmarajika Stupa, believed to have contained the bones of the Buddha, were taken in 1794 to use for construction, the bones thrown into the Ganges, the fate of the gems unknown. Other excavations, in the early 20th century, found artefacts now on display at the Sarnath Archaeological Museum. It's our last evening in India and we share a convivial final group dinner at the hotel, comparing our personal highlights, toasting the end of the trip with a very fine glass of local red and vowing to stay in touch. The writer was a guest of Insight Vacations The Tour: Insight Vacation's Classic India and Nepal tour costs from $6995 per person. From December, the company will also be offering the tour on some dates as a women-only trip with a few different experiences, from $7750. Getting around: Travel is by coach and plane. There are two longish travel days on the coach, but there are frequent rest and lunch stops. Three short flights are also included, two on Air India and one with low-cost carrier IndiGo. Accommodation: All hotels are four or four-and-a-half star, with pools, spas and often extensive gardens. The food: Most meals are included. Those that are not are taken at pre-arranged restaurants as a group or can be taken at the hotel. The verdict: Our tour director was excellent and very knowledgeable, as was our guide in Kathmandu. I'm far less apprehensive about the idea of group travel now and would definitely do it again, particularly to destinations that can be more challenging to navigate solo. "No phones. No cameras. No talking." After delivering these terse instructions, the man disappears from the open window. There's a hush of anticipation from those gathered in the courtyard below before a child's face appears, her lips and cheeks scarlet, her eyes winged with black. Some people bow their heads and fold their hands in supplication, others just look up at her, spellbound. Ethereally beautiful with porcelain skin and an elaborate headdress, she regards us solemnly, seeming to rest her eyes on each person by turn. It feels like barely a minute before she steps back from the window and the man pulls the wooden lattice closed. We have just had a brief audience with the Kumari, the living goddess, a 10-year-old child believed by the Hindus to be the reincarnation of the warrior goddess Taleju, while Nepal's Buddhists credit her with being the tantric goddess Vajradevi reborn. Both believe she's capable of healing the sick with her blessing. This is just one of many pinch-me experiences in an action-packed 12-day tour of Kathmandu and India's Golden Triangle. It's my first time on a group tour and at a meet and greet on the first afternoon, I'm relieved to find everyone seems very nice. There's a mix of older couples and friends, a mother and daughter, plus myself and one other solo traveller, 18 of us in total, from Australia, the US, the UK and Singapore, plus Insight Vacations' tour director Virendra and in Nepal, our local guide Milan. After a bicycle rickshaw ride through the crammed laneways of Thamel, where strings of prayer flags flutter overhead and the smell of cooking wafts from street stalls, our drivers skilfully navigating pedestrians, bikes, sidewalk vendors and surprisingly well-cared-for street dogs, our group gets further acquainted at dinner. Baber Mahal is a series of restored courtyards and stables of the former residence of descendants of Nepal's longest-ruling prime minister and is now home to galleries, shops and restaurants like Baithak, where we enjoy a thali and toast the start of our adventure with a shot of fiery local liquor. The following day is the eve of Maha Shivaratri, Shiva's birthday and our first stop, Pashupatinath Temple is already thrumming with crowds. Milan tells us that Nepal celebrates 401 festivals each year and tomorrow, hundreds of thousands of devotees will flock here to honour the god, making campfires along the river and smoking marijuana, the only day it's legal to do so. We walk along the waterway lined with temples and shrines, where people sit cross-legged selling garlands of marigolds and small lotus lamps that buyers light and launch into the river. We are trailed by vendors - extraordinarily beautiful women entreating us to buy their jewellery or woven cloth purses. Sadhus, holy men with painted faces and knotted ropes of hair, sit on a bench, posing for pictures in exchange for rupees. As non-Hindus, we're not allowed into the actual temple, but we stand on the bank of the sluggish Bagmati River watching the action and listening to the resonant rumble of chants and prayers. Life and death are lived in the public eye here and somehow it doesn't feel intrusive or macabre to be observing from a distance the outdoor crematoriums, where families gather to farewell their loved ones who have been wrapped in white sheets and placed on burning wood pyres. Thick plumes of smoke rise and curl around sloped pagoda roofs where monkeys, indifferent to the human dramas being played out below, groom each other or squabble. Our itinerary includes a visit to Boudhanath Stupa - one of the biggest stupas in the world - with two giant eyes painted on its golden tower. Buddhist monks perform "koras" walking around its base, rolling prayer wheels while other devotees prostrate themselves in the courtyard. We call into the Thangka Painting School beside the stupa to watch artists, seated on the floor who paint intricate mandalas used for prayer or meditation, in colours made from ground semi-precious stones such as turquoise and lapis lazuli, many taking years to complete. Constructed in the shape of a mandala, Patan, in the Kathmandu Valley, once known as: "Lalitpur, City of Fine Arts", dates from 225 BCE. We wander through the Royal Palace buildings, admiring the intricately carved stone and wood temples and browse the bronze and stone sculptures, woodcarvings and photographs at the Patan Museum. On a hill above the valley, up 360-something steps is Swayambhunath, aka the monkey temple, one of the most venerated Buddhist stupas in the world and - at more than 2600 years old - one of the oldest. In addition to the stupa (and the many entertaining monkeys) are shrines, temples and monasteries and if not for the smog, a beautiful panorama of Kathmandu. One of the most ubiquitous local products, sold in every souvenir shop and hawked by countless street traders, is the singing bowl, used for both meditation and healing. They cost just a few dollars but the real deal, made from seven types of metal, can fetch hundreds, we learn at a singing-bowl centre. Despite some initial scepticism, everyone in the group ends up taking a turn standing in a huge bowl while the owner runs a gong around the rim until it begins to hum, the intense reverberations travelling through our bodies supposedly unblocking chakras, and reducing aches and pains. At Bhaktapur, Nepal's former ancient capital where Bertolucci's Little Buddha was filmed, we wander a square filled with temples with intricately carved facades, multi-storied pagodas and shrines. Some are still in a state of disrepair while others have been rebuilt following the devastating 2015 earthquake. Bhaktapur is also famous for its artisans, painters, wood carvers and potters, and in Pottery Square, we watch the latter work in tiny open studios facing the street, spinning wheels with the local dark mud, their wares lined up under the sun to dry. The characteristic brick and wood temples, palaces and pagodas of Kathmandu's Durbar Square, date from the 11th to 17th centuries. Once the homes of the Malla and Shah kings who ruled the city, they've also been rebuilt post-earthquake. After exploring this extraordinary UNESCO site and our audience with the Kumari, at the House of Living Goddess in the south of the square, we amble down "Freak Street", where flower children and musicians such as Jim Morrison and Cat Stevens hung out in the 70s when Kathmandu was an essential stop on the hippie trail. Today, the trail many visitors choose to follow is north to the mountains, to trek or climb. We're not here for either, but on our last night in Nepal, Maya Sherpa, a famous mountaineer and guide who has climbed eight out of 14 of the world's highest peaks, gives a fascinating talk about what it's like to conquer Everest and K2. The closest we get to Nepal's most legendary peaks is the view of the Annapurna Ranges from the plane as we fly across it into India. The city is far greener than I'd imagined, with wide tree-lined avenues. We visit Hindu places of worship and elaborate marble mosques and pay homage to one of India's greatest statesmen, Mahatma Gandhi, at his flower-bedecked memorial. Delhi is also home to the largest wholesale spice market in the world, Khari Baoli, which we explore on foot. We are all connected via an earpiece so can hear Virendra's commentary even if we have to walk the teeming narrow alleyways in single file. Men perch on sacks, smoking, or weave through the crowds with bags on their shoulders, while shoppers pick through knobs of yellow-dusted turmeric and small fiery chillies, pods of cardamom, and rolls of cinnamon bark. Back on the bus, our next stop is the golden-domed Gurdwara Bangla Sahib Sikh temple, once a Rajput King's home. Its marble gates are inlaid with semi-precious stone and a holy bathing pond attracts the faithful, seeking a cure for their ailments. The temple also has a cavernous space, called the langar hall where people come to eat, sitting on the floor. The mosque feeds everyone for free, regardless of religion, race or financial circumstance - up to 40,000 per day and more on holidays, Virendra tells us. On a tour through the massive kitchens, we watch volunteers stirring pots the size of witches' cauldrons, filled with fragrant lentil dhal, while outsized deep-fry baskets are plunged into hot oil and women chat around a low table while shaping flatbreads. We end the Delhi visit with a trip to Humayun's Tomb, commissioned by Empress Bega Begum for her husband Emperor Mirza in 1572 at a cost of 1.5 million rupees. A massive red sandstone edifice, almost Taj-like in its grandeur and surrounded by Persian-style gardens, it's a reminder of the astonishing wealth this country once boasted. It's a six-hour drive to Jaipur in Rajasthan, but between taking in the passing scenery and chatting with fellow travellers, it passes quickly. I'm surprised at how green this desert state is, but Virendra tells us there's been an unusual amount of rain over the last few years. Jaipur aka the Pink City dates from 1726 with the buildings painted pink to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876. Our coach deposits us at Man Sagar Lake, where a snake charmer plays a flute-like "pungi", a hooded cobra swaying in its basket and a sign warns that crocodiles inhabit the water. Built in the middle of the lake, seeming to float on its surface, is the Water Palace, Jal Mahal, a Rajput-style palace built in the 1700s by a maharajah as a hunting lodge. We travel by jeep convoy up the plateau to Jaipur's most famous landmark, the Amber Fort, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, passing tourists who have chosen to ride elephants up, a practice I'm grateful Insight eschews. The massive 16th-century stronghold constructed from pink and yellow sandstone feels surreal, like an opulent movie set. With a designated meeting place, our group splits up and we wander through ornate gateways, covered in exquisite Islamic-style tiling and into open courtyards. In a colonnaded hall, a bride in a heavily beaded sari is having a pre-wedding photo shoot with her groom. I walk up the fort's ramparts, for the 360-degree view of the shimmering lake and the Aravalli hills. We also visit City Palace, a royal residence constructed in 1732 combining elements of Mughal and Rajput architectural styles, then experience some of Jaipur's famous arts - printing and gemstones. At an atelier, we watch lengths of pure Indian cotton being hand-stamped with wooden blocks, before moving to a gem showroom to see precious and semi-precious stones cut and polished and turned into exquisite jewellery. I ask to be shown the most expensive piece and the owner fetches an emerald and diamond ring worth a cool $780,000. It's an early morning start to beat the crowds at the Taj Mahal. It's cool and there's a slight haze that only seems to accentuate the ethereal quality of what is said to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The white marble shrine was built by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, in 1648 at a cost of 32 million rupees or about $1291 million today. Virendra points out where some of the semi-precious stones in the facade have been chipped out and stolen, in spite of the heavy security. The tomb is surprisingly compact inside but is surrounded by a 17-hectare complex, including gardens and a mosque whose two towers have a slight outward lean, purposefully constructed so that in the event of an earthquake, they'll fall away from rather than onto the tomb. After a visit to the imposing 17th-century Agra Fort, there's a choice of activities, either a guided walk through a local village or a visit to Sheroes Hangout. This cafe is run by women who've been the victims of acid attacks, targeted by rejected suitors or as part of a feud against their families. Their stories are horrifying, but despite their trauma, these brave young women face the public daily, with optimism and self-belief. The bill for the simple but excellent food is by donation and there are handicrafts and souvenirs to buy, with sales contributing to supporting the women in their medical recovery, legal pursuit of their attackers and job training. After flying to Varanasi, we have time to freshen up before heading out again. Running through the holiest of Indian cities is the most revered of rivers, the Ganges, said to have the powers of purification. Below a trio of massive praying hand sculptures on the bank, we climb into a wooden boat for a sail down the river as dusk falls, with flowers and diyas - little oil lamps - floating past. There are 84 ghats along the river, buildings with steps down to the water, where each evening, the Ganga Aarti ritual plays out. We tie up alongside other boats to witness the exuberant Hindu spiritual ceremonies, where priests swing multi-tiered oil lamps, accompanied by the crowd's rhythmic chants and ringing bells to honour the river goddess Ganga. It's frenetic and an utterly mesmerising spectacle. Varanasi is as equally important to the Buddhists. Sarnath, about 11 kilometres from the city, is one of the most important pilgrimage sites for them, as the place where Buddha himself first preached to his five disciples below a bodhi tree, which still exists today. There's a huge stupa and a large expanse of gardens, but the monasteries, once home to nearly 3000 monks and dating from the 3rd century BCE are ruins, destroyed by Muslim invaders, and over subsequent centuries, further looted. Even the bricks of the Dharmarajika Stupa, believed to have contained the bones of the Buddha, were taken in 1794 to use for construction, the bones thrown into the Ganges, the fate of the gems unknown. Other excavations, in the early 20th century, found artefacts now on display at the Sarnath Archaeological Museum. It's our last evening in India and we share a convivial final group dinner at the hotel, comparing our personal highlights, toasting the end of the trip with a very fine glass of local red and vowing to stay in touch. The writer was a guest of Insight Vacations The Tour: Insight Vacation's Classic India and Nepal tour costs from $6995 per person. From December, the company will also be offering the tour on some dates as a women-only trip with a few different experiences, from $7750. Getting around: Travel is by coach and plane. There are two longish travel days on the coach, but there are frequent rest and lunch stops. Three short flights are also included, two on Air India and one with low-cost carrier IndiGo. Accommodation: All hotels are four or four-and-a-half star, with pools, spas and often extensive gardens. The food: Most meals are included. Those that are not are taken at pre-arranged restaurants as a group or can be taken at the hotel. The verdict: Our tour director was excellent and very knowledgeable, as was our guide in Kathmandu. I'm far less apprehensive about the idea of group travel now and would definitely do it again, particularly to destinations that can be more challenging to navigate solo.
Korea Herald
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
Bangladesh's Fuljhuri Sisters: Sarod, sisterhood, and the quiet defiance of convention
DHAKA, Bangladesh (Daily Star/ANN) — Their story is not about overnight success or going viral on social media. It's about continuity — not just of a musical tradition, but of familial responsibility, cultural defiance, and personal conviction. In an age of viral trends and digital distractions, the sarod does not exactly scream "popular." It doesn't feature in TikTok dance reels, nor does it fit easily into algorithm-driven playlists. And yet, in a modest room in Dhaka, two teenage sisters tune the strings of this 17 to 25-stringed instrument with the kind of reverence usually reserved for rituals. They are Ilham Fuljhuri Khan and Isra Fuljhuri Khan — known to most simply as the Fuljhuri Sisters. Born into sound, not silence For Ilham and Isra Fuljhuri Khan, music was not a choice — it was an inheritance. Their father, Ustad Md Iliyas Khan is a tabla player; their mother, Supriya Akter, introduced them to vocal music early on. "In our childhood, both of us had our teachings in singing from our mother and in tabla from our father," Ilham recalls. By 2015, the sarod entered their lives. "Our father placed the first sarod in our hands," says Ilham. "Since then, we've been learning together." The weight of legacy is undeniable. "We are the sixth generation in our family involved in music," Ilham notes. Isra adds, "My paternal grandfather is Ustad Fuljhuri Khan, a Swadhinata Padak winner. And we are descendants of Ustad Alauddin Khan." This is not a casual lineage. It's a living discipline — practised daily, carried with care, and quietly passed on through the fingers of two teenage girls playing an instrument most people their age cannot even name. The sarod sisters Though both trained in vocals and tabla, it is the sarod that shaped their identity, so much so that audiences and organizers alike began referring to them simply as the Sarod Sisters or Fuljhuri Sisters. "We didn't plan it," Ilham reflects. "It just happened. We performed our first duet in 2017 at a Baithak at Bengal Parampara Sangeetalay. People liked it. And then it just stuck." Performing mostly in duets, they have carved out an identity that balances individuality and synergy. Isra, the younger sister, is already composing her own pieces and working in studios on soundtracks, commercials, and projects. Ilham, balancing HSC exams and daily riyaz, maintains a quieter presence, but when they play together, there's no "older" or "younger." Just music. Not glamorous, not easy It's easy to romanticize their journey. Daughters of a musical dynasty, trained under maestros like Pandit Tejendra Narayan Majumdar and Kaushik Mukherjee. But the sisters are candid about the less pleasant parts. "We live in a country where classical music is not prioritized. That's just the reality," Ilham says without bitterness. "People think girls should not be out performing in the evening. And they don't stop." Their defense? Silence. Practice. Progress. Their parents, especially their mother, have acted as the first line of resistance. "My mother has endured more than people know," Ilham says. "All so we would not have to." Isra adds, "People say things. I've stopped listening." What comes next? For now, they're focused on refinement. "There's still so much to learn from our Guruji," Ilham says. Isra dreams of performing with him someday — not as equals, but as a disciple, on the same stage. Isra's broader aspiration is to make classical music more accessible, especially to people her age. "Right now, children don't listen to it. Maybe they don't relate. I want to change that. Not to make it trendy, but to make it visible." Their performances are slowly gaining ground in festivals and unconventional venues. Isra has already played with Chirkutt at the Joy Bangla Concert and in experimental platforms like Dhaka Makers and the Rishka Festival. Ilham, the quieter half, focuses more on the purity of form and on making it to her next exam without dropping her sarod. No hashtags, just harmony The Fuljhuri Sisters are not here to entertain the algorithm. They are here to hold onto something that many are letting slip — an entire vocabulary of music that predates YouTube, Spotify, and the attention economy. So, the next time you hear a drone of strings and mistake it for background score, listen a little harder. It might be two sisters, a pair of sarods, and generations of tradition, threading their way into a future that still has room for silence, depth, and sound that refuses to be forgotten.
