Our last leg of Safari in a Safari was to get to Jaipur wandering through national parks, reserves and bird sanctuaries. This one was the return leg, albeit even larger. The idea was to collect Safari (car) from Kanpur and come all the way to Mumbai. Of course, not missing the flora, fauna and the nature.
Dec 19, 2025
The safari technically began in Mumbai — not in a forest, not on a highway, but with a polite little message that wrecked all ambition: “Flight to Varanasi cancelled due to fog.” North India was wrapped in its annual winter smog-fog, the kind that doesn’t just reduce visibility but also humbles travellers with plans. Instead of walking along the Ganga, I walked between my desk and the kitchen; instead of scanning tree lines with binoculars, I scanned inbox threads that should not exist in late December. The half-packed backpack sat near the wall like a loyal dog denied its promised outing, and every few hours I refreshed flight updates as if atmospheric visibility could be improved through optimism alone.
By evening the irritation softened into reluctant amusement. We were heading toward Central India for open skies, forests and waterfalls — and the first reminder from nature was that you move when it allows you to move. The safari hadn’t started, but it had already developed character.
Day 1 — Varanasi: Back in Time
Dec 20, 2025
When I finally landed in Varanasi, the city did not feel like a destination — it felt like something we had entered. We walked to our hotel through lanes so narrow that dragging a suitcase felt like a social negotiation; scooters brushed past, cows stood with administrative authority, and overhead wires stitched the grey winter sky into a permanent ceiling. The first sight of the ghats — especially Dashashwamedh Ghat and the smouldering solemnity of Manikarnika Ghat — shifted the mood instantly. Smoke rose steadily, bells rang without coordination, priests moved with ritual muscle memory, and the Ganga flowed on with a calm that felt mildly indifferent to human urgency. We slipped through the crowd for the evening aarti, flames circling in synchronized arcs against the dark river, the chants rising and falling like breath.
In between divinity and chaos, we found small earthly anchors: a sharp masala-lemon tea that cut through the cold, a bowl of winter Malaiyo that dissolved before it could be properly understood, and a long queue at Kashi Vishwanath Temple that tested both patience and calf muscles. A brief stop at Kaal Bhairav Temple added a fiercer undertone to the day, and by the time we sat down for dinner at Monalisa Cafe, it felt as if we had lived through several centuries in a single afternoon.
