India is a vast country. In the two months I had given myself to explore its complexities I thought I would follow in the footsteps of Monisha Rajesh, a young British journalist of Indian descent who had written a highly entertaining book titled Around India in 80 Trains, in which she recounts her epic four month journey on Indian railways.
The Kalka-Shimla toy train winding its way up the Himalayan foothills.
She had purchased a 90 day IndRail Pass, which is only available to foreign tourists and non-resident Indians (NRI’s) and her adventures fueled my imagination. According to Wikipedia the Indian Railways are one of the largest railway networks in the world with 115000 kilometres of track, carrying over 23 million passengers a day and employing more than 1,3 million people.
My intrepid travel consultant Sarita did not seem to share my enthusiasm when I ran my intentions past her, and pointed out all sorts of difficulties I might encounter with bookings, overcrowding and safety. Despite her reservations I was determined to test the tracks and hence booked a hotel in the Pahar Ganj, popular with the low-budget traveller, and in walking distance to the New Delhi Railway Station. The plan was to head for Bikaner in Rajasthan, which according to Lonely Planet is a vibrant dust swirling desert town with a fabulous fort and an ‘energizing outpost feel’.
Watching passengers boarding a non-air-conditioned 3rd class compartment at Jhansi train station while waiting for the night train to Amritsar.
The resident travel agent in the hotel foyer (most hotels I encountered offered travel agency services) seemed to share Sarita’s reticence and tried his utmost to dissuade me from booking a train ticket, but to rather take private transport, which of course would have been a much more lucrative deal. When I insisted that he follow my instruction he passed me on to his superior and after he still had no luck with his sales pitch he eventually called in the boss to finalise the transaction, which took the better part of the afternoon. Lessons learnt: don’t let yourself be railroaded, and ingest a huge dose of patience.
Also, make sure which railway station you are actually leaving from. Turns out that Delhi has four different railway stations and the train to Bikaner leaves from Delhi Rohilla Station, which was nowhere near I was staying. Luckily I discovered my mistake in time for me to make arrangements for a tuk-tuk to take me across to the other side of town.
Platform scene at the Jhansi railway station.
The five-hour train ride from Khajuraho to Jhansi never got boring.
After Bikaner I proceeded to Jaisalmer, another desert town on the border of Pakistan, best known for its camel safaris into the Great Thar Desert. Getting there certainly provided the challenges Sarita had warned me of. I had the choice of taking a night train leaving at midnight, a non-air conditioned day train, or a non-air conditioned bus leaving at 3pm and arriving at its destination after 9pm that night. None of these options were ideal, but in the end I opted for the bus.
I was a tad dismayed when I saw the bus we were travelling in, but when in India, do as the Indians.
The sight of the Bikaner – Jeisalmer bus filled me with trepidation, but after a bumpy and dusty 7 hour ride I got to my destination in one piece.
For 400 rupees (about R70) I had a top-level sleeper all to myself, and when I had hoisted myself up to my loft I again realised that I would soon be getting too old for this clambering malarkey! But I did have a wonderful view of local life from my eyrie and with the window open the seven hour trip was dusty but bearable.
Luckily I was not crammed into the sleeper seat like these local passengers.
After that the local bus became my choice of transport through Rajasthan and it was only after spontaneously deciding to add Khajuraho, best known for its exquisite temples with sensuous carvings depicting the Kama Sutra to my list of destinations, that I braved a night train from Agra (of Taj Mahal fame) to said city. What tickled me was that I was given a 50% discount on my booking due to my being older than 55 years. If it had not been for the indescribable drop toilets on the trains, I would have no qualms about encouraging Indian train travel, but luckily I am blessed with an iron cast bladder and stomach, so even managed to find the 20 hour train trip from Jhansi to Amritsar bearable. Actually I quite enjoyed it!
The bus ride from Chandigarh to Kalka to catch the famous toy train to Shimla did not instil me with confidence, but thank goodness it was only an hour.
Yours truly savouring a delicious spicy snack purchased from a vendor that boarded the toy train on one of our many stops.
One of my most memorable journeys in India must be zig-zagging up the steep hillside of the Himalayan foothills on the narrow gauge toy train from Kalka to Shimla in the Himachal Pradesh.
In the days of the Brtish Raj, Shimla had been the summer residence of the Viceroy and to this day you could be forgiven to think you were in England. Horacio, my young Colombian travel companion and I barely made it in time to purchase a train ticket for 45 rupees (a mere R8!) and board an already over full miniature train with only about eight carriages. For the first hour of a seven-hour trip we huddled on our luggage until a group of four students took pity and made space for me, taking turns sitting on each others’ laps for the rest of the afternoon.
They were intrigued that a woman of indeterminate age was travelling on her own and entertained me continuously.
My Passage through India had not even reached its halfway mark and many more adventures lay ahead of me in this crazy colourful country, but let me leave the next episode for my next blog.
Also read: Sybille’s bucket list – a passage through India (part 2)
