Amritsar

I arrived in Amritsar on a crowded dusty government bus which left Dharamsala 7 hours prior at some ungodly predawn hour. This meant setting my alarm for 4am and walking in complete darkness to the main square hoping I would find a taxi to the bus station. Luckily I did and sat in the nearly deserted waiting area next to tall, skinny light haired guy who instantly reminded me of my best friend and bandmate back at home. As we exchanged the usual banter, where we are from, how long we are in India for, I decided he would be my new best friend as his gentle mannerisms, laid back nature and general go with the flow vibe were immediately evident.

Benji from Austria and I rodé the hellish busride together which included a rest stop in a dusty garage infested field where the men got off to simultaneously surround the bus and take a piss and a nicely timed save by a mother who opened the window in front of us so her kid could puke out of it. I immediately decided I would never again take a government bus in India. Benji didnt seem to care about any of this. 'It's not bad,' he would say in that monotone German chilled out accent.

Amritsar is a disgusting, dirty, crowded city but houses the Golden Sikh temple which in my opinion blows the Taj Majal out of the water. In the evening time it is especially magical and not to sound like a Lonely Planet guide but no visit is complete without experiencing the communal meal eaten on the floor and served efficiently by temple volunteers to over 80,000 people daily. The chappati and dal was one the tastiest I've had in India and really showed just how generous and anti-caste the Sikhs are.

You could stay for free in the temple in the foreigners room. Benji didn't mind sharing a bathroom with ten other people and sleeping on an uncleaned bed next to a complete stranger. 'It's not a four star star hotel' he would say. I booked myself into a two star down the block which included a flat screen TV and the rare complimentary role of toilet paper.