3rd class trains

19/3/11

We colleted the shirts from the city market. All of them were lovely and fitted so well. They were a bit dirty but James thinks he can wash that out. When you have clothes made in an up market slum I suppose things do get dirty. Seeing the tailor again reminded me of his insane head wiggling. When ever I asked him a question he would smile and wiggle his head from side to side which could mean yes, no maybe. I would counter with the same question and get the same response. In the end I had to wiggle my head from side to side too and ask if this was yes or no. God only knows what we looked like. After this it was train time........................

Here follows James' entry re the train.

Delhi Belly. Sultans Revenge. Code Brown. Or my own invention “Rubble in the Bungle”. Whatever you call it when you are suffering from the “Runs” there are certain things that you want and need. Clean, private sleeping accommodation, preferably with crisp fresh sheets and soft firm pillows. Clean, private toileting facilities, preferably those where you are fully aware of the previous users of said appliance and a working flush. Quiet space where you can be alone, to clutch your spasming stomach dramatically should this be required, and the absence of strangers should “the worst” happen. Finally and perhaps most importantly, quilted triple-ply toilet tissue, ideally with the addition of those moistened handy-wipes, to ensure a hygienic finish. These things were not to be in Incredible India (™).

The train journey on this date had always been planned. My plans (finalised in my mind at home on the sofa in Didsbury) had been for 1st Class (an closed and lockable compartment of no more than 4 people including ourselves – sometimes just us 2), Air-Conditioned and Fan Circulated (India is bloomin’ hot you know) on a wide padded bed with supplied pillows, sheets and blankets. All this could have been arranged from home. It could have been booked months before. But it was not. My wonderful husband for all of his wisdom had decided that we needed “flexibility” on our travels, should the prevalent mood to stay one place longer or shorter etc. Whilst I did, and do not, actively disagree with his sentiment, this relaxed approach did mean that when it came to booking onward travel, all of the seats on the train seemed to have been fully booked for the next week. After some discussion and negotiation with a gentleman from a tourist travel service (literally every 2nd shop in India) and the dispatching of a no doubt lowly paid gentleman to the train station 10km away, it seemed that train tickets were available. But no 1st Class AC was available. No 2nd Class AC was available. No 1st Class Non-AC was available. The only reservable “accommodation” for our overnight journey was to be in Sleeper Class.

This meant traveling amongst the masses. Lady James really was designed to be in India in colonial times and I really was a bit unsure at the prospect of this. Not because I don’t like the Indians – they are truly lovely – but I appreciate my sleep and comfort – intensified by the reasons given above. Sleepers seem to be the way that most Indians (apart from the most poor) travel overnight on trains. No compartment. No curtains. Bars for windows. No sheets, pillows or blankets. Sleeping 3 high on what I can only describe as a shelf – thinking I will bloody fall off this thing. 6 foot, 4 inches, much much taller than most Indians. Hard, pretty grubby, basic but to be fair, functional. Toilets – now a choice – the Western  Toilet with what appeared to be a fossilised lump of faeces on the lid and no flush and no running water, or the Indian Squat Style Toilet, with no flush or running water (but will the delightful omission of no dried poo-poo). Human waste in case you were wondering goes straight onto the tracks down a dark hole.

Myself and Luke had already prepped ourselves for the journey so managed to get settled pretty quickly, with bags chained to the underside of Lukes Bed/Shelf, and my vital items, water, ear plugs, eye mask, industrial strength sleeping tablets, good to go. As it turned out the sleeper was not a contradiction in terms. I actually slept quite well. Once you got used the usual noises of the train, horns, metal-on-metal, Tea Sellers, the hustle and bustle, trains on the other side passing past your sleeping head, whirring fans and foot traffic that this. Whilst not quite convinced by the benefits of lower class travel (such a snob I know) I tried to
be the backpacker traveler type that we need to be to survive Asia and put it down to experience. Now where is that Train booking website.