The scenery changed constantly as we made our way across Goa, and into Karnataka. From the tropical jungle landscape with meandering rivers, to the Dudhsagar Falls, India’s second highest water fall about ten metres away from the train, close enough to get sprayed, then it was just barren land from 100’s of kilometres until we neared towards Hospet. The guys on the train ensured we got off at the right stop. I don’t know how they know where they are, some stations don’t have signs, and at night I’ve seen one guy jump off the train in a pitch dark area, whilst it was moving quite quickly.
Outside Hospet train station we got a tuk tuk; funny moped that carries more than 3 people, sometimes 7 if people don’t mind the squeeze, to Hampi. We decided that we would risk staying in Hampi even though our train back to Goa two days later would involve a 4:30am wake up. As we got closer and closer to Hampi we started to realise what all the fuss was about. Old ruins, and giant boulders the size of houses, balanced precariously on top of others, with no logical explanation to how they got there. It was no wonder most of them are Natural Heritage sights. Photos can’t begin to describe what Hampi is like. The only words I can use are: It’s like a cross between the Jungle Book and the Flintstones set in amongst ancient ruins from a 500 year old fallen Indian Empire spread over about 35km.
After a little walk and some food we decided that we would hire a guy in a tuk tuk to take us round all of Hampi visiting the temples/ruins and step wells the next day; good idea if walking 35km is not on your to do list. It was a good shout, we seen all of Hampi, seen all the ruins temples and boulder structures, some crazy monkeys and some weird ‘holy’ men, not bad for a day’s trip. We even managed to convince the tuk tuk driver to collect us at 5am the next morning to take us to the train station and sure as hell he was there the next morning just before 5. Hampi is just a magical place and I have no doubt that it will be one of India’s highlights on this trip even if it would take us two days on trains to get to our next destination.
2 days on trains. WTF were we thinking when we planned this. Hospet to Goa between 7-8 hours. Goa to Mumbai 11 hours, 7 hours in Mumbai waiting around for a 19hr 30 minute train to Jodhpur. May I repeat. WTF. I could write all day about the trains here although I feel it would take too much of your time. We arrived at Hospet station early enough for our train only to find out from one of the Chai guys (tea sellers that walk round with a large silver container full of tea selling little cups for 5 rupees whilst singing chai-cha-cha-cha-chai-chilly-chai; or at least that’s what I hear) that our train was one hour late.
When we had originally planned this section of the trip, there would be no less than 6 hours leeway between the trains, just to account for delays, or trains running slower than expected to make sure we would catch the next train north to get to our destination; Jodhpur. On the 1st July, the monsoon timetable comes into effect, changing the times of every station stop in the country. We had now 2 hours leeway to catch our next train from Goa to Mumbai and the train was already one hour late. Felt like a kick in the teeth. This would mess up all the bookings of onward travel and accommodation would have to be cancelled. Alternatively, we would have to catch a flight north and we didn’t really want to spend the money on that.
Chai guy, which I call all of them, came along and told us our train would be arriving soon, maybe in half an hour, after one hour had passed. Tentatively we waited, and waited and it wasn’t until 50 minutes later that we were on the train and departing. 10 minutes leeway. Not a hope. There are always delays. Just got on the train, didn’t mess around with trying to find our seats, we were section 11. Turns out we jumped on 6. Between that and the next sleeper sections were the AC rooms, which if you didn’t have a ticket you were not allowed to pass. We would have to jump off the train at the next long stop and run to the back of the train to our section so we could get our seats. So we stood in between two carriages. Now the funny bit. Transvestites.
I had read little bits and pieces about them on Indian trains but it never really grabbed my attention all that much, but here I am, standing beside a train exit door and I hear this cackling and clapping. I thought to myself, no way, is that them. Sure as hell it was. 4 of them coming along the train carriage, waking people up with their hands out. I thought bollox, I can’t even run anywhere. I was blocking the train exit so Toni could sit on the steps and take pictures. The cackles got louder and louder until finally they had come out of the carriage and stopped and looked at me and a few other guys. Then it started. The tapping for money. They looked at me, started asking for money and started trying to touch my arm. Shrugged them off and told them to piss off (in the nicest possible way obviously.) They were shocked that I would not give them any money. Why would I?? They don’t hold any hoodoo over me; I don’t owe them anything so why would I pay them to get them away, it was beyond me that Indian people would give them anything. One of them tried to push past me to get towards the exit, the exit where Toni was sitting so I didn’t let IT through. It goes, this is my stop (bearing in mind the train was going about 50 miles an hour.) I would not let IT past. I had two bags on so there was no way IT could get past without me letting IT. All the Indian guys were shocked and giggling but they had already coughed up their money. It asked to get past again. I think my words were something like: “I don’t care if this train is moving, I’ll throw you out now if you don’t get away from me.” It replied “ooooooo.” Obviously understanding my English, my intent and the not so happy look on my face, it said something to one of the others then moved away back in and along the carriage.
Toni looks up to me, asks what was all that about, my reply “trannys.” She nodded her head, and just started giggling, probably not wanting to know how I got rid of them.
Next up: Burn Victim.
Another case of “Give me money.” This guy runs up and down the train yelping at people with his hand out for them to give him money. Fair enough, I see that he has more reason to do this than the transvestites but he intentionally takes his shirt off before he starts and puts it on when he finishes his run up and down the carriages. Just another con. The yelps get louder and finally he’s standing beside me, yelping. Yes I felt sorry for the dude, but getting money from me? No chance. He hadn’t just been harassed by transvestites; I should be the one looking for compensation. He got a firm, go away and a shake of the head, he questioned it, then I repeated the go away part and eventually he put his shirt on and left.
All with in the first hour of the train journey. Eventually we got off at Gurag, changed carriage and found our correct seats. Funnily enough, the transvestites’ did the same. They came along the carriage but didn’t hassle me or Toni. RESULT!
With only a few minutes leeway, every stop at every station felt like it was ten minutes too long. All hope was gone, we would have to try and get a sleeper bus to Mumbai the night we arrived and hope it would get us there for 3 o clock the next day. Just got up on the upper berth and tried to get an hour or two of sleep. I did, when I woke up, I found out the stops we were at, got the lonely planet guide maps out and tried to calculate the distance we had covered and how long we had left. I know, Sad. When the only thing you have is free time, it seem like I was wasting much by doing this. We were still behind schedule. The only thing I could hope for was that we would start seeing mountains soon, and then I’d know we were in the border region of Karnataka and Goa and Dudhsagar Falls. After about 2 hours we were there and had about 3 hours on the train to go. Hope. I actually thought we could make it.
After passing the waterfalls, I knew we would still have to get down the mountain region then about 60 km to Margao. With 2 hours to go, I thought it would take us 1hr 30 to get there. The smile appeared on my face again. To think I would actually be happy to jump on another 11 hour train to go catch a 19 hour train.
With our train leaving at 16:45, it was now 16:00. Train just stopped outside of Margao. It had to let one train pass. Then another. It took 30 minutes before we got to Margao station, ran from one platform over to where our train was, quite a lot of people on board. Departing on an overnight train we needed some food because we’ve been warned not to eat train food. Into the station shop, few samosas’, some veg. pastry, some crisps and biscuits, exactly what the doctor ordered. The guy behind the till was messing around; serving other Indian customers first then eventually, he would take my money because he was going to get me a plastic bag. WTF, take my money, my trains leaving, you douche. When he eventually took my money he gave me it back. Would accept 3 ten rupee notes because they had rips in them. Joker. India does not replace old notes, or worn ones, or even accept notes with cellotape. No wonder why he wouldn’t. Threw him 50 rupees, spent another minute or two counting my change then I ran to the train. 5 seconds later, it started moving. MADE IT.
I know I said I wouldn’t ramble on about trains, but tough, this was a dramatic situation and maybe one or two will find it interesting or take some hints if you ever do plan to travel India by train.
The next train was fine, that is if you end up finding out from some gobshite school teacher that the seats Toni and I’s seat were double booked, but since we are the countries guests we can sleep, but she would go see the tiki (train conductor) to get the matter resolved etc etc. Busy body, really had not got time for it; just wanted some sleep. Eventually we find out we were in section 8, not section 7 as our tickets had stated. Woops. Our bad. The hassle was our fault, but the digital boards didn’t match up with the carriage numbers which weren't labeled, so not just our fault. Eventually I had to go see the ticket conductor, and angry little man with too much power in his hands, eventually after a bit or arguing, apologising etc. we got to stay in the seats and the school teacher’s kids took ours. 7 hours later, we arrived in Mumbai CST.
After a full day of trains we went to Leopold café, awesome café in Mumbai, we looked at our next ticket, Train departing from Mumbai Bandra terminus. If any of you have heard on the news about the Bomb in Dadar region of Mumbai recently, Bandra is just past Dadar. Taxi to Churchgate, metro train to Bandra, takes 30 minutes. Arrived in Bandra where a helpful man told us not to take a rickshaw because we would be ripped off to walk it, it was only ten minutes away Outside Bandra metro station we realise what we were in. Bandra was a Mumbai slum, filled with rubbish and shacks that were homes. I felt uneasy. I’m sure Toni did too. We just walked, our heads down, as quickly through the heavy rain as possible, passing dogs, kids playing cricket, using shoes for stumps. It was a drastic change from the scenes of cosmopolitan Mumbai city.
It was a relief when we made it to Bandra Terminus. Don’t know if it was the unknown, paranoia or just the feeling of being completely out of place, but it felt like we were in danger. If we weren’t, we’ll never know. We found our train, then our carriage, not wanting a repeat and just waited so we could get on.
An hour or two passes, we get some food for the journey and the train departs. We sit playing switch, 3 anything’s and an ace and poker and its all going well until what I can only describe as a gypsy family get on after 2 stops. 6 seats to a booth, we had 2 of them and there were ten of them at least, armed with their blankets, big bags filled with naan breads, roti’s curries, rice, veg. They were prepared. Prepared for a nuclear attack. They smelt horrible. It just wasn’t good. And for 19 hours longer. Crap. We decided to jump up on our upper berths away from them and just leave them to it. We just tried to get some sleep and eventually we did, once all the seats were turned into beds and the lights went out and the ticket conductor moved half of them to their proper seats. Probably the best sleep I had on a train since I got here, but that’s not saying much. They got off about 2 hours before we did, eventually we arrived in Jodhpur, Rajasthan, the blue city, and the state I had heard so many good things about.
I fear I may have rambled on a little, so I’ll end it hear for this entry. My India beard is coming along well, not shaved since I got here and its taking shape alright. I'll post a pic before I shave it off.
Til next time folks.
Peace!
water,tapping for money,bunk beds, little people with too much power,old ruins,bolder's all around,man with small child. sounds just like home hahaha.nice blog
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