The Beatles came to Rishikesh in 1968 to find enlightment, something pilgrims seek nightly.
I pause for a rest in the shade of a statue by the Ganges. Shiva, half naked and with his hair tied up neatly in a black bun, is sitting cross-legged on a tiger skin. His face is blue and serene. My face is red and my hair dishevelled.
That’s when a guru from a local ashram stops on his way past and invites me to join his yoga classes for the good of my health.
“My dear sir,” says the Indian gentleman reassuringly at my doubtful look. “I can assure you we undertake all cases of human anatomy.”
I’m pondering this insult to my physical pride as the yoga instructor waggles his head mournfully. “I think you’re being worried about the price,” he added. “But we don’t believe in selling ancient medical systems. Our charges are nominal.”
Frankly, yoga isn’t for me but, as the Indian fellow ambles away, I feel invigorated by the exchange. I’m in Rishikesh, 250 km north of Delhi in the foothills of the Himalayas, and one of the most charming towns in India.
Cluttered with white cubist buildings and yellow temples framed by a backdrop of barren hills, it stands where the turbulent young Ganges finally leaves the Himalayas and settles down to a placid middle age on the Indian plains.
The modern town is separated by a 1930s suspension bridge from the peaceful holy town on the far side of the river, which is blissfully free of heavy traffic.
Many tourists end up staying longer than anticipated, appreciating the serenity. Healthy living and the mysteries of wellbeing wait to be discovered.
If it’s yoga you want, Rishikesh is just the place. Its ancient secrets were passed down across the centuries from rishis — saints or sages — who came to the Himalayas for divine inspiration, and Rishikesh is the Hatha yoga capital of the world.
There are numerous yoga schools in town, of which the most popular might be the Yoga Study Centre. It holds 20-day intensive courses in February, April and September, reputed to be quite challenging and aimed at those who already have some yoga experience.
Beginners would do better to head to the Sri Ved Niketan Ashram, which has a gentler style of yoga, or to the Yoga Niketan Ashram, where you can go through the moves of classical yoga and meditation as monkeys scamper outside in the garden.
You don’t have to stay in the ashrams to attend the classes, though many do, retreating for two weeks and more. Most ashrams are fairly austere, offering only a basic level of accommodation and generally prohibiting meat, alcohol, playing cards, television and (for some reason) eating onions and garlic.
A stay in Rishikesh doesn’t have to involve austerity, however. At the top end of the scale, Ananda in the Himalayas is a stunning Moorish palace full of art deco furnishings, with a luxurious spa centre that pampers rather than pummels you into a state of nirvana.
Wherever you stay, there’s no end of ways to improve your wellbeing.
Herbal drugs and poultices are on sale at the local pharmacy. Medicated steam baths entice from ayurvedic centres. How about a massage with a linen bag containing rice cooked in milk and herbs? Or a leather cap that fits snugly over your head, through which warmed medicated oils are poured onto your scalp?
After a while these all start to seem rather normal.
By the third or fourth day you’ll be happily listening to a sari-clad lady telling you about your cosmic rhythms as you lie with a candle in your ear. Physical wellbeing and the spiritual life are both important in Rishikesh, which is a leading Hindu pilgrimage destination. Ghats line the river, and many-armed gods peer from rooftops and ashrams.
Hindus believe that meditation here is supposed to bring you closer to salvation, as does a quick plunge into the holy River Ganges.