 The few crooked blocks from my hotel to the Golden Temple are lined with shops and bike taxis. Every step is met with:
"Madam, rickshaw?" "Shoes! Good price!" "Come in! Just looking!" "Border tour?" The temperature on its own is stuffy, and the mess of words and traffic and people moving in every direction adds to the heat. I arrived on a bus from McLeod Ganj. When it departed at 5am I was wearing a sweatshirt and two jackets and could see my breath in the dark, biting air. Six hours and another climate away I now walk the streets of Amritsar and mentally curse the long pants, t-shirt, and scarf that I have to wear to be modest.
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amanda
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