The train pulls into Varanasi at 9:30am. I woke up a few times until 3:30am when the men to the left got off at 3:30am, they made such a racket and turned every light on. Dom didn't sleep well at all. He said that the men had talked about me (even though one of their wives was on the bunk below) all night and that a few times they had gone to take videos or photos on their phones but every time they had checked to see if Dom was watching them, he was. I don't understand the mentality, but I know I don't appreciate it. Jess had also had issues with some guys staring at her too. Hotel bound in our five tuc tucs we see Varanasi. The hotel was a two minute walk from the Assi Ghat, perfectly located. (Hotel Haifa). There's a weird sleepiness and travel sickness that we all seemed to suffer from the morning after the overnight trains. Similar to sea legs and jet lag. A quiet breakfast, where the silence was only broken by Beth and I discussing peppers and capsicums. I would say ‘I like peppers in my omelette’, Beth would say ‘yeah, red capsicums are my favourite’, I reply ‘yeah, I do really enjoy red pepper humous’, ‘yeah, red capsicum humous is so tasty with pita’ and so on. A quick nana nap and we headed out for a walk around Varanasi. We take cycle rickshaws from the hotel to the bustling market, and walk through the market from the main road to the Ganges. We reach the Ganges at Dashashwamedh Ghat   ghat. Men are hosing down and scrubbing the floors and young boys are bathing. On the other side of the water are small boats and sandy shores. We walk back to the hotel along the river, passing the ghats, people bathing, people washing clothes, ladies laying their bright saris out to dry, boys playing cricket, vibrant artwork painted onto the walls dotted amongst the temples sporadically located along the shore line, men trying to sell you a boat ride and children trying to sell you flowers and candles for the evening ceremony. As we reached one of two crematorium ghats Raj pointed out a cremation already taking place and explained the process to us. He said that he couldn't stand the smell so would walk very quickly by it, we were welcome to watch but to not take photographs. As we walked by curiosity got the better of me and I looked at the burning body. The body was laid with head closest to us, laying parallel to the river. As  we passed by I saw two legs poking out, a foot longer than the bed of wooden sticks and logs it was laid on. One leg and foot was already ashen, the other looked like candle wax melting. I reacted really badly to this when I caught up with Raj on the other side, totally insensitive to the culture, it wasn't intentional I was just so shocked to see it. I said that what I had seen was ‘gross’ and I really offended Raj. I didn't mean the cremation process at all, when Raj explained the Hindu reasons behind it it made perfect sense, but Raj did say that the pile of wood is meant to be the full length of the body so you don't see the burning like that. Either way, I am sorry for what I said. 
That night we went out on a boat to watch the sunset and the evening worship. Two boys on the boat, no older than 18 drove the boat. They revved the engine and we chugged away from the shore with the current towards Dashashwamedh Ghat . When we reached the middle of the river, they turned off the engine and we floated along, watching the sun set. As before, the sunset wasn't particularly stunning, again an orangey yellow circle descended behind grey haze and the sky slowly turned a darker shade of blue, but it did look beautiful reflecting upon the river. When the sun had set the boys lit the thirty candles in the bow of the boat. The little tea lights we placed inside small clay holders, surrounded by orange flowers in a small bowl made out of leaves. They handed them out and we all made small silent prayers and wishes, and placed our candles into the water. Once all of the candles were floating along the Ganges the engine was turned back on and we chugged toward Dashashwamedh Ghat to watch the evening prayer ceremony . The ghat we had seen being scrubbed and cleaned look so different. It was full of people and brightly lit. On the five wooden platforms that had been bare, sat a priest on each in burnt orange silk tunic. Bells rang, incense burned and the priests performed the ceremony. Slowly the water filled with boats rammed with people watching and young boys and men walked from boat to boat selling cold drinks, post cards, coloured powers and trinkets. In the small spaces between the boats floating candles would appear and drift away with the current, carrying a prayer or wish. The ceremony lasted 40 minutes and the boys wound up the engine and steered us back to the Assi ghat. Dinner was had at a small pizzeria at the waters edge and we people watched.