❝AT THIRTY-ONE DEGREES NORTH LATITUDE, entry three nights ago in Amritsar, , capital of the prosperous Punjab, it was very hard, like the first time years ago when I arrived in Kathmandu, but everything fell into place, with time, calmly, yes, although very favorably. powerful tandoori (roast chicken with yogurt and ginger), prepared in the restaurant of the same hotel, the central one Ramada, could not with me either and soon I jumped into the street, on foot, alone and without a guide, as I usually do, to see the Harmandir Sahib) , better known as the golden temple
The city of gold and waters has all the charm you could ask for and its own unique atmosphere. On Saturday (like one of our Sundays) there is not room for another soul and the queues are endless. That, and that you have to endure your turn barefoot, discouraged me to the point of wanting to abandon the attempt to cross one of the access doors to the famous enclosure from the beginning...
However, I was lucky that they were watching me closely and one of the guardians of the temple He approached me gently (I saw him coming immediately towards me with determination because he must have seen me disoriented) and suggested that I enter through the doors of the clocks, which do not have counters where to leave shoes and backpacks (you must take off your shoes first and put them in your backpack) but no queues. First obstacle overcome.
Then, once inside, I met one of the young members of the temple guard, who was French, and a recently widowed Quebecer of long age, married to a Punjabi and who was landing in Amritsar for the first time although she spoke the local language. They were of invaluable help because thanks to them I was close to the details of the two ceremonies that are celebrated daily, the closing and opening of the temple, at its time and at hours, too, which for a foreign tourist are unattractive.
They are one of those random clicks that allow you to complete a visit and at the same time see how tourists in groups take a walk around the sacred pond and sometimes they don't even get to enter the temple (the queues once inside are still barefoot but covered with cute little turbans provided by travel agencies, little else), or those who go with a guide private, who at least come at closing time of this magnetic sanctuary (although they leave when the good stuff starts).
Three days hanging around the place have been delicious. Punjabi food is also not wasted. Tomorrow I will be sleeping in Bhubaneswar●
