Chris woke me to ask what the plan was and when we were going to
get up, which wasn’t completely ideal since I was sleeping well for a change.
However it was really a good thing since we had to pack before leaving on a
train journey to Kerala, and didn’t want to be late for departure from Carol’s
house.
Pack, breakfast, checkout. Easy.
Mostly.
The residence only took cash payments.
So I had a ride on a moped to the nearest ATM. Which refused to
allow me to draw 12,000 rupees (about £130). With both debit and credit cards.
Remembering my earlier experience with not being about to draw
much money in the airport, I tried entering a lesser amount, and all was well.
Multiple lower value draws seemed OK, but not single high-value transactions.
Guess it takes a bit longer to drain the bank account.
So we met up with her family, climbed into the bus and drove to
Madgaon Junction station for the train.
Views from the window made more sense than on our first trip from
the airport, and what had felt like chaos now had a logic and pattern to it.
The first time we were in India (2011) the culture shock was quite strong, and
possibly because of that experience, it dissipated more quickly this time.
As an aside, we’re honoured to be guests on this trip, but want to
make as little fuss as possible, so will be trying to generally keep a low
profile. Our host has enough on his plate already.
For such a relatively simple concept, stations everywhere are
different. Numbers and length of platforms, means of getting between them,
fenced/non-fenced, shops and facilities etc. It makes life more interesting to
see the different kinds of kiosks etc that are available, but I’m still
surprised at the variety. This one was like a longer, warmer version of
Bharatpur junction outside Delhi, which was the last Indian station we waited on. It was quite modern in a traditional station
way with lots of places to buy food, escalators to get passengers up in order
to cross tracks etc. I took a few pictures, but we aren’t on holiday, and it seemed
inappropriate behaviour as part of such a group to walk about snapping everywhere.
And so we had our mildly chaotic train entry, starting in the
wrong carriage & being questioned by ticket collectors (at this point we
were on our own) and not having a clue what seat numbers or even which carriage
we should be in. It was a sleeper train, with sleeping compartments for 4 people
and no privacy curtains between. There were also compartments off the corridor
on the other side, one up one down. The
young couple sat opposite, when we finally got to our seats, were pleasant, and
had some English, which was helpful.
Seats. Beds. The sleeper compartment is made ‘as is’ with fixed
bunks just about high enough above the lower seat for a European not to bash their head, and no padding for a seatback to rest against. Food was “veg/non-veg” (we
picked veg as the safe option) which turned out to be rice, dahl, paneer curry
and a pot of natural (cheesy) yoghurt. Later someone came past with pots of
icecream (nice, like old-fashioned vanilla tubs) and others to collect rubbish,
sweep and sanitise the floor etc. At least there’s aircon.
People continuously walk past the curtain to the compartment,
brushing it open briefly, making me wonder if one will come in and ask
questions about tickets or seats again.
Yup, it seems we've gone (luxuriously) native. ;-)
Pity
the window is so dirty that seeing out is difficult.
And
my bum aches after less than 2 hours. ;-)
Dinner
came along in similar format to lunch.
Worth
mentioning that as a 6 year old, my parents took the family back to Austria.
That involved a 2 day train journey from Oostend to Vienna, and the train was
considerably more comfortable, beds folding away to make conventional seating,
sleeping compartments having closed doors and individual curtains around beds
for privacy. And no mobile phones to beep, bleat, chime, jungle and receive
telephone calls at 2am.