Hands on the Offering Everyday, faithful Hindus – priests and laypeople – say prayers and make offerings of flame, food, and flowers to Ganga Ma, the holy Ganges River at Varanasi, India.
The Ganges River is India’s lifeblood, flowing 2525 kilometres (1570 m) from her source in a glacier in the Himalaya, across India and Bangladesh, and into the Bay of Bengal. The river is sacred: personified as Ganga Ma, mother to humanity.
Hindus worship Ganga Ma as the goddess of purification and forgiveness. Some places along the river banks have taken on additional spiritual significance, with the ghats (steps) at Varanasi being particularly special. Bathing here can purify the soul, and if you die here, you are freed from the endless cycle of rebirth.
Every morning (see: Light in the Darkness) and every evening (see: Life and Death on the Varanasi Ghats) Hindu priests perform the ritual aarati (arti, aarti, arati, arathi, aarthi, aarthy, or arthy) to Mother Ganga. The cacophony of chanting and clanging of bells means the break of day is far from quiet… but there is a kind of a calm in spite of the noise, as the prayers which are offered to the sacred river are performed in their slow, measured paces.
But it is not just the priests: everyone who visits Varanasi bathes in the river as a symbolic purifying ritual. Women who have come to the river as pilgrims go to the muddy edge of the water with their baskets of bits to perform a pūjā, an the act of worship. They make round piles from the river mud and carefully decorate these with flowers, herbs, and spices that they have brought with them. A small butter lamp is lit, prayers are said and water from the river is splashed and drunk. When all is finished, the lumps of clay are returned to the river, and we can all hope for an easier time in the next life.
Perhaps now that time has passed, I can tell the story of how I drank water from the Ganges – and survived.
I had spend a lot of time at the river bank at Assi Ghat photographing the women as they made their offerings. As I was about to leave, three of them consulted each other in Hindi, then turned to me: “Stay, Sister!” One of them made a new set of offerings – clearly on my behalf. I felt honoured, as I was tikka’d and blessed by them, but I admit to being a little nervous while they watched me like hawks to make sure I ate their sweet raisins and ‘drank’ the sacred river. I tried not to swallow too much!
Fortunately, I was fine, and didn’t have to confess to my guides. Not everyone fares so well (eg: SBS Topics: Beliefs and Bacteria).
Offerings to the Shrine Except for the bare bulbs in the garish shrines, the pre-dawn streets are completely dark.
The Shrine I think this might be Hanuman, the monkey God, but I’m not sure.
Morning Meditation The waterfront is dark, with the city lights along the river stretching out to the north. Boys wander the waterfront with baskets of diyas, the small candles surrounded by flowers that are lit for floating on the river.
Morning Aarati The metal aarati plate of scented ghee smokes in the the pre-dawn light.
Ring the Bell The lengthy ceremony uses lamps, incense, bells, conch shells, and sometimes feathers, at specific parts.
Call the Gods Bells focus the mind and alert the Gods to our prayers.
Circling the Flame The flame in the metal aarati plate or lamp represents the power of the deity.
Candelabra The chanting sequences are repeated with a giant flaming candelabra …
The Long Pause … until finally, the ceremony is finished …
The Apparatus … and quiet falls. The dawn light slowly emerges.
A Tender Dawn As the sun approaches the horizon, boats are already out on the river.
Pūjā at Sunrise Paying honour to Ma Ganga takes a number of forms, including taking a ritual bath in the river and offering sacred water to the sun.
Pūjā Offerings The loving offering of light, flowers, and water or food to the divine, is an essential practice in Hinduism.
Offering Light Light, in the form of a flame, is the final element in the offering.
Making Offerings All along the riverbank, women with their baskets of brass jugs, utensils, flowers, and spices, construct their offerings.
Woman on the Ganges It was a meditative process watching the women construct their gifts for the Mother.
Incense Smoke from burning incense is cupped in the hands and waved into ones face.
Decorating the Offering The balls of mud, made from the riverbed, are carefully decorate with spices …
Flowers … and flowers. Every element has a purpose and meaning …
The Offering … and the finished product is quite beautiful.
Women and their Paraphernalia All along the river’s edge, the process is repeated.
Woman on the Riverbank
Woman in Red
Sail Away The offerings, like life, are ephemeral. Once given to the Mother, they are absorbed back into the river.
This visit to the mighty Mother was a long time ago, and I have shared some of these pictures in different formats before. But, I always feel rejuvenated when I revisit these images: there really is something magic in those polluted waters.
Looking over Neck Point The tombola that gives Neck Point Park in Nanaimo, British Columbia its name, has disappeared under the high tide.
The spring month of May in Nanaimo on Canada’s Vancouver Island was unseasonably cold and wet this year. I was living in a too-small-space in a boat on the harbour, and by the end of the month, I needed to get out!
Fortunately, the weather improved somewhat, and Nanaimo has a lot of beautiful parklands within its boundaries. The day before, I had managed a lap around the wetlands at Buttertubs Marsh (see: A City Park for All Seasons). On this particular afternoon, I was joining some locals for a walk on the rugged foreshore at Neck Point Park.
The park is listed as being 36 acres of environmentally sensitive waterfront that is popular with hikers and scuba divers. Home to stands of endangered Garry oaks (Quercus garryana), the varied terrain is criss-crossed with trails. Orcas and sea lions are often seen off the rocky cliffs; we spotted otters and several types of birds – including a pair of bald eagles.
Join me for a short but pleasant coastal walk:
Conifers on the Hill A small stand of the fast-growing native pine, Douglas firs (Pseudotsuga menziesii) greet us as we enter the park.
Blue Camas There are a few camas (Camassia quamash) still in flower in the shadows.
Purple Clover The clover (Trifolium purpureum var. purpureum) by contrast, is prolific.
Walkers on the Path Most of the paths are well groomed and clearly marked; shortly after this, however, we ended up bush-bashing across a section that we later learned is labelled: “Rough Steep Trail”.
Wild Roses As common as they might be, I’ve always loved wild roses (Rosa acicularis).
Forest The woods around here are a mix of conifers and deciduous, including arbutus, Douglas firs, beech, and Garry oaks.
Sunset Beach It is middle of the afternoon, so no sunset for us! But, I admired the driftwood washed up on this small stretch of stony beach.
Cairn Other people have left their mark here in this popular park.
“Heart of the Headlands” Perhaps because I grew up around this landscape, I love the asymmetrical Douglas firs standing on the windy higher ground.
Song Bird Above us, an unidentifiable bird sings to the world.
Dark-Eyed Junco Meanwhile, tiny juncos (Junco hyemalis) scrabble around in the grass not far from our feet.
Driftwood on the Waterfront Beaches here are typically comprised of small gray stones and littered with logs that have escaped the booms that run up and down the coast.
Nature’s Rock Garden As we climb up the next headland, I admire the natural rock gardens that have formed here …
Flowers and Lichen in the Rock Garden … and the tough, but delicate-looking plants that have made this jagged cliff a home.
Wild Rose Away from the exposed cliffs, we find more wild roses.
Island off the Rocks At high tide, the isthmus at Neck Point looks like an island. I am fascinated by the different coloured lichen and verrucaria that add to the textures of the rocks. Hidden from our sight, a rock wall under the water here is home to an array of sealife, making this a popular dive spot.
Onto the Green Although it is only a small park, the outlook and terrain change from one moment to the next.
Across Three Lagoon Islands Park The coast here is scattered with parks and ecological reserves.
Pipers Lagoon Park From here we can look across to Pipers Lagoon Park, and the ramshackle housing nestled close by.
Boats on the Waters Further out, we can just see the lighthouse at Entrance Island, as well as BC Ferries vessels, cargo ships, and recreational boats. The Strait of Georgia is a busy waterway!
Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus Leucocephalus) It doesn’t matter how often I see these magnificent birds in the wild, they always take my breath away. Even at a distance, those beaks and talons are formidable.
Maple Spinners These take me back to the delights of childhood: we loved finding dry spinners, launching them, and seeing how long they would stay air-born!
Lines and Curves The rooftop of Al Hazm Castle provides a good example of the solid defences and elegant lines seen in many Omani forts.
The Sultanate of Oman is a land of forts and castles.
Sitting at the southeastern end of the Arabian Peninsula, this Middle Eastern country has always been a centre of regional trade. As early as 120 AD, a branch of Nabataean Arabs arrived in the vast desert interior. By the 1600s, the Omani Sultanate was an empire, vying with the Portuguese and British for influence in the Persian Gulf and Indian Ocean.
Over the years, internal tribes have warred for power, and the area as a whole has had to defend against outsiders. Small surprise then that “[o]ver 1000 forts, castles and watchtowers continue to stand Guard over the Omani landscape”. These various forts, castles, and towers were built over the years by various Sultans, or by invading Portuguese and Ottomans, and modified by whomever followed.
I certainly didn’t visit anywhere near the 1000 forts on offer, although I saw several from a distance when I was in Muscat (see: Between the Past and the Future and On the Arabian Sea). On my second full day in the country, we drove from Muscat to to the fishing village of Barka where we visited the fish market (see: Morning in the Barka Fish Market) before spending time in the nearby Bait Al Na’aman Castle.
Bait or bayt (بيت) is house in Arabic. Bait Al Na’aman is believed to have been built in 1691-92 by Iman Bil’arab bin Sultan as a royal retreat and rest house for journeys between Muscat and Rustaq. Fortifications were added by the Al bu Said dynasty a century later. The building was restored in 1991 with traditional fittings and furnishings and now operates as a museum.
Al-Hazm Castle is a true fort, built to withstand – and return – cannon-fire. Constructed around the beginning of the 18th century, it was the home – and later the tomb – of Imam Sultan bin Saif II. It is considered to be one of the best examples of Islamic architecture in Oman and has been submitted to the tentative list of the UNESCO World Heritage sites. What stood out for me was the colossal wooden doors equipped with receptacles for pouring boiling date syrup over would-be attackers.
Sticky!
Bait Al Na’aman This fortified castle was originally built around 1691-92. It was was restored in 1991 and is now open as a museum.
Entry Door The fortifications on these old buildings have a beauty of their own.
Guides in the Doorway Guides love getting together for a chat. Both men are wearing the traditional white dishdasha. Our guide, Said, is in one of his many round kuma caps, while the museum guide has on a massar or turban.
Lattice Window The interiors of these old buildings are dark, with very little light coming through the latticed window-covers.
Jewellery In the dark interior, display cases contain period items that might have been used by the families living here. The traditional silver jewellery is heavy and ornate.
Rooftop There is plenty of light on the flat roof, where the sun pounds the parapets and the wind ruffles the Omani flag.
Museum Guide I had a chat with the local guide, the father of 16 children; eight to each of his two wives. He’s considering marrying a third woman so he can have more offspring.
On the Road Omani highways are smooth and straight; it’s about a 45 minute drive from Bait Al Na’aman to our next fort in the Al Rustaq hills.
Al Hazm Castle The fort is an impressive structure, one of several built in the Rustaq region during the reign of the Al-Yarubi tribe over Oman.
Said at the Castle Entry Our guide precedes us though the elegantly simple courtyard doors.
Castle Cannons Mounted cannons leave one in no doubt as to the building’s main purpose! The castle also contained a prison, a mosque, and religious classrooms.
Arch and Door
Door Details
Family Outing One of the more recently renovated castles in Oman, the site is a popular destination.
More Door Detail
Guide in a Doorway Said waits to lead us through the network of rooms.
Doors and Arches This is where you could be coated in boiling date syrup if you were not welcome!
Date Storage Many parts of the interior, including where the dates are stored, are almost pitch black.
On the Rooftop From the expansive rooftop, we have commanding views all around.
Curves on the Rooftop Much of what we can see are the palms that provide the dates that are an integral part of every aspect of Omani life.
Dates in the Garden
Guide in a Doorway
Coffee Set
Beautiful Walls and Deadly Cannons
Omani Man in a Massar This is my favourite time in any fort visit: …
Guide in the Garden … when we settle into the garden for qahwa (or kahwa), coffee blended with saffron, rose water, and cardamon and other spices, …
Story-Teller … served up with dates and good humour.
With a head full of facts, photo cards full of images, and more than enough dates and qahwa in our bellies, it was time for the hour-and-a-half drive back to Muscat.
Flying the Greek Flag On the craggy outcrops above the very pretty Preveli Beach, a flag proudly heralds our location.
If you want to knock the long-haul fatigue out of your mind and legs, I can think of no better way than a visit to a Cretan beach.
But, I clearly didn’t fully understand the trip description! The fact that I was – by far – the oldest person on the tour bus should have given me a hint.
Preveli (accent on the first syllable) Beach, on the south coast of Crete, with its unique palm-lined river flowing into the Libyan Sea, is touted as stunningly beautiful.
Which it undoubtedly is.
It is also a 250m (820 ft) drop in altitude from the bus parking lot – which means you access it via a steep, rocky track better suited to mountain goats than my old legs! Going down was testing on my thighs and knees; coming back up in the midday heat – no shade in sight – was nothing short of gruelling! You can actually drive to sea level on the other side, and access the beach via a five-minute walk. But then – as one site pointed out – you miss out on the spectacular view from the tall cliffs on the west side.
Of course, being at the mercy of tour buses or convoluted public transport, I went where I was taken!
The beach is delightful, and visitors – mostly from Northern Europe – were enjoying Grecian September sun and the warm waters of the Libyan Sea. Not being much of a beach person myself, I followed a narrow sandy path through a unique forest of Cretan date palms, up-river along the Mégas Potamós – the Great River. Officially called Theophrastus palms (Phoenix theophrasti), these trees are distinct from the more common date palms (Phoenix Dactylifera) that they resemble. They are only found on Crete and in limited other locations around the Aegean. Remarkably, this particular forest, and thousands of hectares of land in the region, was razed by fire in August 2010. You’d never know it today!
I was in search of a waterfall I was told was twenty minutes up-river, but when I hit a wall of boulders, I had found no more than a few little trickles over rocks. It was a very pretty area, even so.
Recognising my limits – still being exhausted from travelling across more than half the world – I turned back. I had taken note note of what the down-hill trek felt like, and was determined to set back up the hill early and give myself plenty of time to pause and recover.
But, the hard work was unquestionably worth it – as I’m sure you will agree.
North Coast The bus follows the highway along the rugged coast of Crete between my starting point near Heraklion, and the turn south at Rethimno.(iPhone12Pro)
Big Buses – Narrow Roads -Rocks Falling After turning south into even more rugged terrain, we follow another tour bus through the breath-taking Kourtaliotiko Gorge. (iPhone12Pro)
Asomatos Hills Finally out of the gorge, the sea is just visible in the distance, and the fields whizzing past are patterned with crops, orchards, and olive groves.
Glimpses of the Libyan Sea We watch as the sea comes into view. Meanwhile, our tour guide gives us an overview of the place we are going to visit in four languages! (iPhone12Pro)
At the Top When we finally arrive at the top of the cliff, the almost-noon-day sun is pounding on the earth …
The Impossible Brightness … and mountains in the distance float over the Libyan Sea. That is probably Gavdos, the southernmost Greek island, to the right. But we are only a few hundred kilometers from Libya and that may be what we can see on the distant horizon.
A Dramatic Coastline The water changes colour from one minute to the next, and the beautiful coastline stretches out forever.
Preveli Beach Is a Long Way Down! As I continue to pick my way along the rocky path, I can see the resort that allows access to the beach from the other side.
Preveli Beach Those beautiful turquoise waters are getting closer …
A Steep and Rocky Path … but the path remains treacherous, requiring constant attention.
Preveli Beach and the Palm Forest Finally, we get a view over the fabled palms that line the riverbanks of the Great River.
The Palm Forest Odysseus, the King of Ithaca and the bane of High School English students, reputedly stayed near here, and there is a magical story (which I cannot entirely remember or find on line!) about the origins of this forest. What is scientifically remarkable is the rarity of these palms – named Phoenix Theophrasti for the Grecian scholar of botany – and their ability to recover from fire.
Lookout Overhead When I look up, I can see that I have made progress, …
Incoming Boat … but I admit: I’m starting to feel a little envious of those who are coming in by boat!
Rocks in the Bay
More Boats – More Rocks
Noon-Heat Pounding Just a few more bends in the pathway, …
In the Waters … and finally! We can appreciate the beach itself.
Where in the World? Many of us have come a long way to be here!
Into the Palm Forest Rather than swimming or sunbathing, I follow the sandy path upstream through the palm and oleander forest.
In the River Majestic cliffs rise up all around, but even so, Great River (Μέγας Ποταμός – Mégas Potamós) seems a rather ambitious name for a river you can literally wade up! Elsewhere, I have found it named the Kourtaliotis River for the gorge where it originates, or the Kissano Faraggi.
Rocks in the River There is meant to be a waterfall here somewhere, …
Trickles over Rocks … but the canyon was blocked with rocks. I made do with this little cascade.
Tree on the Canyon Wall It is incredible to me the way life clings to these almost-bare rocks!
A Primordial Landscape This landscape took its current shape about 3-4 million years ago, but I can imagine dinosaurs wandering here. More recent animal fossils: giant tortoises, crocodiles, squirrels, wild boars, and antelope among them, have been found in the area.
Sandy Path Following the same gritty-sandy path back, …
Down Stream … I soon glimpse the beach at the river’s mouth.
Rocks on the Beach Back at the beach, people are rock-climbing, sun-baking, or enjoying the water.
Bougainvillea and Old Props I opt for a Greek coffee in the semi-shade. Named for the Moni Preveli Monastery nearby, these lands are now protected under the Natura 2000 program, meaning permanent facilities are limited.
Narrow Path Too soon it is time to start clambering back up that goat track.
A Rugged Coast I make plenty of stops on the way back up the hill – ostensibly to admire the coastline.
Berries … or the local vegetation.
Steep Stairs
One Last Look Naturally, I make another stop at the lookout, before dragging my tired self back the rest of the way to the top.
Fortunately, at the top of the hill, the bus was waiting with the air-conditioner running!
Once I sat down, I felt quite proud of myself and forgot how tired I was.
[…] a world where stress and worries can take over, the Preveli Palm Forest is a place to find peace, beauty, and some fun. It reminds me that sometimes, the best things in […]ReplyCancel
Runkurakay – “Pile of Ruins” This Inca building is thought to have been a tambo or inn, a stopping point for couriers on their way to Machu Picchu. For us, it marked our second pass in a long, hard day of walking the Inca Trail.
The Inca Trail is a 45 km (26 miles) trek from Piscacucho, a locality 82 km (51 miles) from Cusco, to Machu Picchu. The path follows a small part of the larger UNESCO-listed Qhapaq Ñan, the Inca-built network of roads and tracks through the Andes Mountains. The classic walk is usually done over four days, coming down into the 15th-century Inca citadel through the Sun Gate on day four.
Unfortunately, during the rainy season in 2006 – the year we walked it – part of the trail to the Sun Gate was washed away. This meant that we had to detour down to the town of Aguas Calientes and climb up to Machu Picchu from there.
This made our Day Two – the dreaded day that takes in two mountain passes – even longer than normal.
Our group of six trekkers, thirteen porters, and two guides had survived a rainy 14 km (8.7 m) walk the day before (see: The Inca Trail Day 1), but Day Two was going to be the test. We agreed to break camp at Wayllabamba (2943 m / 9655 ft) in the dark and walk two hours to Llulluchapampa (3800 m / 12,500 ft) before breakfast so that we could start the assault on our first high pass early.
It was a beautiful morning. The rains had washed the countryside clean.
From Llulluchapampa, it was a steep climb to the top of Warmiwanusca Pass (akaAbra de Huarmihuañusca or Dead Woman’s Pass), which was our highest point (4270 m/14,000 ft ) and where the winds wrapped cold, wet clouds around us. We picked our way carefully down steep stone steps to the Pacamayo River (3600 m / 11,811 ft) and lunched where we were originally meant to have camped the night. I was grateful we weren’t staying there – as pretty as the campsite was, reaching the toilet block meant winding through the bushes and crossing two small creeks, using a single-plank wooden bridge in one case, and slippery rock stepping-stones in another. I couldn’t imagine making the trip safely at night, even with a head-lamp flashlight!
Instead of staying at the Pacamayo campsite, we pushed past the one at Runkoruoay (3760 m / 12,335 ft) and through to Sayacmarca (3625 m / 11893 ft).
As the day wore on, the rains and the ups and downs took their toll. The gap between the fastest walkers and the slowest widened dramatically. This was in the days before mobile phones, and at the agreed end point, most of our group waited in the dark campsite, cold, tired, and hungry, and wondering what had become of our second guide and remaining trekkers. Eventually they staggered into the evening camp by torch light, as the rest of us breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, dinner, when we finally got it, was superb. Our crew of kitchen staff and porters could not be faulted, and we all went to sleep exhausted, but warm and with full bellies.
Morning has Broken It is still cold and dark in our campsite at Wayllabamba as the dawn sneaks into the skies over the surrounding Andes.
The Huayruro River at our Feet The pre-dawn forest is noisy with the sounds of rushing water as we start to climb.
Locals and Porters The track rises steeply, …
The River Below … and before long, we have left the little river behind.
Tangled Vegetation The sub-tropical jungle is dense, and I am grateful for the well-constructed Inca pathways.
Andes in the Clouds We get glimpses of mountain peaks disappearing into the hovering clouds.
Inca Steps The stone steps seem to rise forever! Gabe and Elvis wait for us slower folks.
Run-Off Channel The Inca understood water – they built runoff channels into the pathway.
Peruvian Mother and Child At our breakfast stop at Llullucha, a Quechua woman and child greet us.
Our Staff In addition to our guides, we have kitchen staff and a crew of porters. They generally get to our stopping-places before us to set up our meal tables and/or tents.
Llulluchapampa The little village nestles in the lee of the steep mountains.
Llamas Grazing On the hills around us the llamas graze on the puna, the grasslands.
Quico – Bidens Andicola Asteraceae There are wildflowers all around us; …
Seed Pods … most of the plants are unknown to me.
Quechua Woman Many years ago, the Peruvian Government rolled out restrictions on numbers along the trail.
Quechua Guide Only licenced guides can operate; it was nice to meet one who was a female!
Dead Woman’s Pass (4215 m) It’s a 1215 m ascent to the Abra de Warnmi Wanusca– Dead Woman’s Pass. When we finally made it, we were enveloped in cold swirling clouds and buffeted by winds. They claim the name is because that’s what the mountain looks like – not because that’s how you feel once you get there!
Down After conquering the ascent, we start on the descent. The steps down might be easier on the lungs, but the knees get a work-out!
A Welcome Toilet This was not in the guide book! We were all very excited to see this little toilet in the middle of nowhere – it was the first one that we had seen in 2+ days that wasn’t a squat, and it was actually clean!
Waters Flowing Down After a wetter-than-usual rainy season, it is not uncommon to see rivulets flowing down the mountainside.
Wild Plants against the Mist The mountain clouds are settling in all around us.
Wild Bush
More Wildflowers
Lunch Tent Finally we reach the Pacamayo River (3600 m) where our tent is set up for lunch. This was meant to have been our campsite for the night, but because of the early start, we were pushing on over the next pass.
Raining Again In spite of the rain, we start climbing again through more grasslands, …
Runkurakay … this time, up pass at Runkurakay (3950 m).
Runkurakay We pushed past the campsite next to the ruins of this ancient Inca inn, into the mists and …
Sayacmarca – Sayaqmarka … down the darkening mountain towards our campsite near Sayacmarca (3625 m / 11893 ft).
Sayacmarca is Quechua for inaccessible – place you can’t enter.
Certainly – arriving there after dark, and after a very long and arduous day, we weren’t even going to try! Time enough to explore this sacred area dedicated to the mountains in the morning.
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
