We have reached Farakka Barrage. A major infrastructure project with 120 gates, 2.8 kms long.The Barrage determines the allocation of water between Bangladesh and India. We were told a committee reviews it every ten days. It is not without controversy. Here we turn right in a bend in the river and the channel leads to the Hooghly and then to the Kolkata Port.

This is where we start the second leg of our downstream journey. We left Bihar behind and we are now in West Bengal. This means we can finally have a glass of wine with dinner. The group is joyful.

As we enter the channel the tender is sent ahead to ask the ferryman who operates a rope ferry across the channel to lower the rope so we can pass.

Except they refuse and a real argie -bargie starts up between our captains and cruise manager and the locals on the shore. Their lively interaction recorded on video. Check out my instagram account for this.

In the end the tender operator has to go and untie the rope to allow us to pass.

Our visits today are to Pandua and Gaur Important medieval capitals in 1400s.

Only snag is we have to travel by car on a two lane motorway some 2 hours away. Well, I had forgotten the madness of the roads but it took seconds for it to return. Two lane only in name. The driver was determined to squeeze through the tightest space, often between a massive truck on one side a tuk tuk or overloaded cart on the other. Tailgating is an art. Swinging out suddenly, wildly perfected. Honking loudly a must. Blind corners, hidden obstacles, stationary vehicles, people walking near the central reservation, goats nibbling the grass, the occasional cow and at one point as we were in seemingly two rows of traffic a woman nonchalantly walked towards us through the middle!

A Westerner telling them to be more timid on the road is not going to cut it so to take my mind off looking ahead I looked out to a major recycling town called Sujapur.Massive bags of recycling everywhere. At one point a mountain of recycling bags reaching the second floor of a building.

We are two kilometres away from the border with Bangladesh. I have never seen so many overloaded trucks in my life. They line the roads, nearly killing us along the way, they are parked in fields, under trees as far as the eye could see.

I survived the journey but was so exhausted by the tension the monuments will have to wait.

The builders, craftsmen and workers of the day ensuring they will survive for many years to come.