Here is a reprieve from words.

Award-winning rose garden, apparently. It was really beautiful but there was something creepy about it, something stopping it from being serene. Maybe it was the fact that it was in the hills of West Virginia and I had the distinct sensation of being watched, The Hills Have Eyes-style.

Inside the lobby.

Peacocks are everywhere in the architecture, and the statues of the deities are fanned with peacock feathers. There are fifty live peacocks roaming around the New Vrindiban premises! WHO DOESN’T LOVE A PEACOCK?! (Except for the person whose grandma was murdered by burgling peacocks.)

Inside view of the peacock stained glass. There were 4 of these throughout the Palace.

Lotus pond, unobstructed by the Indian dick.

Maybe it would have been less creepy if there had been other people out there. But instead, it was just Seri and me, looking completely lost, touristy, and naive. WE COULD HAVE BEEN TAKEN AT ANY POINT. (God, can you imagine the cheers from the men back home? I mean: Krishna, can you imagine the cheers from the men back home?)

Anyway, the creep-factor of the Palace grounds had nothing on the dancing acolytes and lake we were about to stumble upon down the street.