I finally finished updating my blog for what is travel in Nepal, but the truth is that I'm even further behind than I had air. Like rock stars who sell more records dead than alive, I write about India once back in France. Brief. The delay in question, it is ... 10 months. It dates from the visit of Tomek and Robin and our little trip to Amritsar common end of October. In my defense, it was just after my meeting with Piyush and just before my exams and my departure for New Zealand.
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For a new breakaway Delhi, we are putting together a trip to Amritsar with a group of companions unpublished Tomek and Robin, our visitors unspeakable repetitive mishaps if they are suspected of being caused, Anne co-JNUieuse, his roommate, Marine and I . Again we leave too late Panchsheel to go to Nizamuddin railway station, where stress result in traffic jams and a great adrenaline rush to get on the dock out of breath ... before realizing that the train is waiting for us, late. We identify our seats and then Navy 
me go down to buy some food (the trip looks long) and ... see the train depart while we are still the dock. New surge of adrenaline and racing interrupted by the fall of Mobile Marine and pickup express their parts on the platform, and finally catch the train which is slow for once a quality. The journey continues unhindered, punctuated by listening to the quartets of Dvorak with Tomek, by "lepra jokes" adapted to the Indian context by Tomek and Robin and a snack of samosas hard.
When we arrived the next day at Amritsar, the night was of course short. Once off the train, it is clear that we do not know nothing in this India-there. Punjab is truly the land of the Sikhs, great-looking bearded turbaned proud and I am completely incapable of understanding the Punjab, even more to read, luckily rickshaw drivers speak Hindi, but with a harsh tone and consonants hoarse. Since the railway bridge, we saw a demonstration drive exclusively by women dressed in churidar-kameez (we will come out quickly that saris are extremely rare among Sikh women) not the slightest idea indeed the reason for this event.
We end up negotiating a rickshaw for a cheap price about right and we entassons actually quite easily in this frame motorized. Amritsar, the "pool of nectar", 
etymologically was supposed to plunge us into the delights religious, it has not failed to do especially as we arrived involuntarily at the Golden Temple in Full Sikh religious festival, and even more important to know that the Punjab: the birthday of Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism. It is eight o'clock in the morning and yet the streets are already flooded and noisy, not so obvious to find a place to take my breakfast. We eventually found a dark little restaurant my own where we march one by one with a toothbrush to freshen up in the valve from the bottom - it must be strange in the eyes of Punjab. Visiting the Golden Temple is of course our first objective, after the adoption of a mandatory head covering. Despite the swarming crowd and excited, the temple sits at the center of its sacred pool where the faithful wash inspires healing. A mass of people lined the seawall 
-square to enter the temple, others collect sitting by the pool. On this day of celebration, meditation is all about faces, either one, worthy and closed, officials of the temple, or that, moved or ecstatic faithful from afar. Parades, crowd movement, fighting games, rituals, obscure to us, the festive atmosphere pervades every corner of the temple, and each has an assigned role.
This temple is the holy place par excellence of the Sikhs. I had heard for the first time in history classes because of the massacre of 1984 which was then the direct cause of the assassination of Indira Gandhi (Sikhs had apparently hard to forgive him for having instruct the army in the temple). In the same tone, passing in front of the entrance Jalianwalla Bagh garden where the British massacred hundreds of civilians in 1919.
The Golden Temple and the daily ceremony of closing the Indo-Pakistan border, about 20 miles away, are the two main attractions of Amritsar. So we negotiate a round trip by jeep to see the ceremony that attracts thousands every day people. The crowd on the bleachers Our ability to see the ritual performed strongly, with military demonstration accompanied by patriotic songs on each side of the border. This is obviously Which way to sing the loudest!
After returning to the center of Amritsar, find a pad for the night looks complicated: we planned to spend the night at the Golden Temple, since pillars of Sikhism is to offer free accommodation to anyone who asks. But this holiday, no way to find six places in a dormitory. No way not to find a cheap room in a hotel: the hotel also enjoy the festival. When a dignified Sikh turban in blue approaches us, we travelers desperate and homeless, our first reaction is to be suspicious, but eventually we find 
a room not-too-expensive just behind the Golden Temple where we can cram six. So, he says our friend for life and our guide for the weekend. After a little well deserved rest at the hotel we leave for the temple, but not complete because Tomek experience disease-of-l'Homme-White-in-India (I realize also that I have no Photo by Tomek on this trip, I do not know how he did much to prevent the camera!). Our removable guide-friend and accompanies us through the temple supposedly usually immersed in an atmosphere "Mysterious" night, but in these times of celebration the temple is covered with thousands of fairy lights! Will revert to the mystery, but it must be confessed that the sanctuary has something magical quoiqu'intrinsèquement kitsch. We zigzag through the motley crowd gathered and to follow our guide through all the rooms where he knows the history of record, "I like to help strangers When They arrive here. And Today is a Holy Day, It Is about sharing."
smell of sweet pastry floating in a terrace overlooking a large room that appears after approach be a huge kitchen where volunteers cook a large number of gigantic amounts of food in huge utensils. There is even a machine that makes hundreds chapatis chapatis chain. Mouth me grave. Frugal meal then, chapatis, vegetables and pickles sitting cross-legged among hundreds of others doing the same, lined up in a religious calm. And out, we are entitled to a beautiful view overlooking the dishwasher:
back on a terrace of white marble surrounding, leaning on the railing that looks down on the famous pool of nectar or throne Temple sparkling we realize that sometimes the crowd gathered was put into motion. A procession away from the temple and comes to us, enclosing a small group of men. They maintain a sort of sedan chair empty, but apparently revered by the whole crowd; better observed, one realizes that a richly embroidered fabric covers a book, we present our guide as the Siri Guru Granth Sahib (nicknamed by us " Mega-Book "), the sacred book of Sikhism, which joined her house every day as night, but tonight with great fanfare.
me go down to buy some food (the trip looks long) and ... see the train depart while we are still the dock. New surge of adrenaline and racing interrupted by the fall of Mobile Marine and pickup express their parts on the platform, and finally catch the train which is slow for once a quality. The journey continues unhindered, punctuated by listening to the quartets of Dvorak with Tomek, by "lepra jokes" adapted to the Indian context by Tomek and Robin and a snack of samosas hard. When we arrived the next day at Amritsar, the night was of course short. Once off the train, it is clear that we do not know nothing in this India-there. Punjab is truly the land of the Sikhs, great-looking bearded turbaned proud and I am completely incapable of understanding the Punjab, even more to read, luckily rickshaw drivers speak Hindi, but with a harsh tone and consonants hoarse. Since the railway bridge, we saw a demonstration drive exclusively by women dressed in churidar-kameez (we will come out quickly that saris are extremely rare among Sikh women) not the slightest idea indeed the reason for this event.
We end up negotiating a rickshaw for a cheap price about right and we entassons actually quite easily in this frame motorized. Amritsar, the "pool of nectar", 
etymologically was supposed to plunge us into the delights religious, it has not failed to do especially as we arrived involuntarily at the Golden Temple in Full Sikh religious festival, and even more important to know that the Punjab: the birthday of Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism. It is eight o'clock in the morning and yet the streets are already flooded and noisy, not so obvious to find a place to take my breakfast. We eventually found a dark little restaurant my own where we march one by one with a toothbrush to freshen up in the valve from the bottom - it must be strange in the eyes of Punjab. Visiting the Golden Temple is of course our first objective, after the adoption of a mandatory head covering. Despite the swarming crowd and excited, the temple sits at the center of its sacred pool where the faithful wash inspires healing. A mass of people lined the seawall 
-square to enter the temple, others collect sitting by the pool. On this day of celebration, meditation is all about faces, either one, worthy and closed, officials of the temple, or that, moved or ecstatic faithful from afar. Parades, crowd movement, fighting games, rituals, obscure to us, the festive atmosphere pervades every corner of the temple, and each has an assigned role. 
This temple is the holy place par excellence of the Sikhs. I had heard for the first time in history classes because of the massacre of 1984 which was then the direct cause of the assassination of Indira Gandhi (Sikhs had apparently hard to forgive him for having instruct the army in the temple). In the same tone, passing in front of the entrance Jalianwalla Bagh garden where the British massacred hundreds of civilians in 1919. The Golden Temple and the daily ceremony of closing the Indo-Pakistan border, about 20 miles away, are the two main attractions of Amritsar. So we negotiate a round trip by jeep to see the ceremony that attracts thousands every day people. The crowd on the bleachers Our ability to see the ritual performed strongly, with military demonstration accompanied by patriotic songs on each side of the border. This is obviously Which way to sing the loudest!
After returning to the center of Amritsar, find a pad for the night looks complicated: we planned to spend the night at the Golden Temple, since pillars of Sikhism is to offer free accommodation to anyone who asks. But this holiday, no way to find six places in a dormitory. No way not to find a cheap room in a hotel: the hotel also enjoy the festival. When a dignified Sikh turban in blue approaches us, we travelers desperate and homeless, our first reaction is to be suspicious, but eventually we find 
a room not-too-expensive just behind the Golden Temple where we can cram six. So, he says our friend for life and our guide for the weekend. After a little well deserved rest at the hotel we leave for the temple, but not complete because Tomek experience disease-of-l'Homme-White-in-India (I realize also that I have no Photo by Tomek on this trip, I do not know how he did much to prevent the camera!). Our removable guide-friend and accompanies us through the temple supposedly usually immersed in an atmosphere "Mysterious" night, but in these times of celebration the temple is covered with thousands of fairy lights! Will revert to the mystery, but it must be confessed that the sanctuary has something magical quoiqu'intrinsèquement kitsch. We zigzag through the motley crowd gathered and to follow our guide through all the rooms where he knows the history of record, "I like to help strangers When They arrive here. And Today is a Holy Day, It Is about sharing." 
smell of sweet pastry floating in a terrace overlooking a large room that appears after approach be a huge kitchen where volunteers cook a large number of gigantic amounts of food in huge utensils. There is even a machine that makes hundreds chapatis chapatis chain. Mouth me grave. Frugal meal then, chapatis, vegetables and pickles sitting cross-legged among hundreds of others doing the same, lined up in a religious calm. And out, we are entitled to a beautiful view overlooking the dishwasher: 
back on a terrace of white marble surrounding, leaning on the railing that looks down on the famous pool of nectar or throne Temple sparkling we realize that sometimes the crowd gathered was put into motion. A procession away from the temple and comes to us, enclosing a small group of men. They maintain a sort of sedan chair empty, but apparently revered by the whole crowd; better observed, one realizes that a richly embroidered fabric covers a book, we present our guide as the Siri Guru Granth Sahib (nicknamed by us " Mega-Book "), the sacred book of Sikhism, which joined her house every day as night, but tonight with great fanfare. 
