Dusk settles on the stone steps of Vishram Ghat, and you squeeze in between pilgrims as boatmen tie up along the Yamuna. The chanting swells, and small leaf cups with flickering wicks float past your feet toward the far bank. Someone beside you smiles, says "Radhe Radhe" and makes room on the step.
By day, the Government Museum shows the spotted red sandstone sculptures that made local carvers famous, and the lanes around Holi Gate smell of kachori frying for breakfast. Summers are scorching, the monsoon arrives around July and winter mornings can start in fog. When your list runs out, a Local Friend picks the next stop, maybe a ride to Vrindavan or a quiet boat across the river.
