the 12th and the train ride.
In Agra we had a bakery next door to our hotel. Susanne found a couple
of different items that both tasted really nice.
I bought a box of Pringles the other day, at Rs220 (or Rs190 when I
found that a little hard) it was still more than most vegetarian
dinners here. Still, it tasted really nice. Susanne has also been
stocking up on Oreos here, they are using the American recipe here so
they are without milk. The chocolate ones taste better than the
regulars.
A few day ago, in the car, stopped at some roadside trade station, I
woke up from my normal snooze. And looked out the window. And looked
straight into two endlessly deep black eyes attached to the toothy
side of a Cobra. The first thing I did was glancing up at my window
(while keeping one and a half eye at the black tube of death possibly
considering me for lunch) to see it if was closed. It was. I then
slowly moved my knee to flip the door lock. "Susanne" I said. "Look,
snake". Sure, it was only 50cm long, drugges and in the basked of some
lady apparently wanting a few rupies to let us pet her priced
posession. It was still a snake, and it was just outside my window.
There were no exchange of rupies and no petting. I dont think there
were even any pictures. I was happy when Sanji came back and drove
off. Bye snake.
In the morning of the 12th we got up late. After snoozing unusually
long even for us, we got up just in time to get everything packed
before leaving just after 10. We got our seat numbers from the hotel
manager and I paid for the water bottles I robbed from the minibar in
case it would be hard to come by on the train (as well as a mango
juice for Sue). First stop was the post office. A few rupees changed
hand and none of the armed military guards (one arriving on a sweet
Royal Enfield as we got there) shot us as we snuck in the rear
entrance. Our driver was a regular there, and this way we beat the
queue and managed to get everything done in time. Like the rest of
India, the mail system is.. inefficient. We arrived at, circa, 10:30,
and left 11:45. Everything took time (but a lot less time for us than
for those stuck in the actual waiting lines). First there was
weighing, then there was filling out customs documents. Then there was
random waiting for a while as someone vanished with Rs200 to pack the
items anbut not the items themselve. After some time the items
vanished too. After more waiting they came back all wrapped up. I
would not have trusted that kind of wrapping with anying breakable,
but for cloth I guess it should be fine. Then there was writing of
adress, more weighing and then paying. What would have taken a very
minutes (+ packing) in Norway somehow took more than an hour here. At
least it was that much less to lug around the rest of our trip.
After the post office it was time to give our driver a little
something. Neither Susanne nor I am good with the whole tipping thing.
During the last days our trip of we had learned that our driver was
actually paying for his food and sleeping arrangements himself most of
the nights, which was a surprise to use as we were under the
impression that this was already paid when we booked the trip. While
it was impossible for us to get him to say anything regarding what a
"proper" or "good" tip would be, we got him to give us an estimate of
Rs500 / day for his food and lodging. So, for roughly 10 day, that
would be Rs5000 already. I was very happy with everything he had done
for us, my experience of India would definitely not have been the same
without him. I think Susanne shared my thought on that matter. We
ended up deciding on a total of Rs10000, which would be roughly €170.
Excluding the 5000 spent during the trip, the 5000 extra would equal
half an average monthly salary as far as we were informed. I only wish
I could have afforded to give him more. I will definitely recommend
him, and it is not impossible that we come back to India in 2012 for
Kashmir and other northern regions with him as our guide and driver
again. Like all other Indians we've dealt with financially it was
impossible to tell if he found it OK, too much or too little. His
general mood did not drop at least, so I guess thats a good sign.
He then dropped us off at the train station half an hour early. He
also arranged for two carriers. While I wouldnt have had a problem
carrying my back to the train, I very much appreciated that they would
also make sure we got to the right seats in the right wagon in the
right train and for that I was very comfortable paying Rs200 for. Once
we were positioned on a platform the carriers vanished. Susanne
vanished a few minutes later to inspect a fast food joint closeby. I
had hardly turned around before one of the ever present hawkers were
uppon me. I kindly declined a shoe-shine, but as he was about to walk
off, he noticed the tears in my shoulderbag. I almost shooed him off
out of habit, but reconsidered. That was actually one of the things I
would like to have sorted here. He wanted Rs50, which was nothing
compared to what I paid for the bag in Finland all those years ago.
Susanne came back with food, and I vent off to see what they might
have for me, foodwise. I ended up with two decrusted cheese/butter
sandwiches and two somethingsomethings made out of what resembled
butterdough with vegetable fillings. These were even heated in a
microwave. I cannot remember what I paid, but it was not much at all.
Coming back to Susanne and my bag-repair-in-progress I found that the
price had gone up to Rs200 as he had found more things on it that
needed fixing. At first I was a little annoyed that he had talked
himself into more money when the basic reapirs would have been fine
(Sorry Susanne), but, decided that it would probably be better having
it completely repaired anyway. I find it funny that I now have a large
blue carbine hook permanently embroided to the side of my bag, as I
used it for repairing one side of the bag back in the desert. It is
unique now. He also managed to get another Rs100 for a shoeshine, the
enterprising little Indian. I am sure he needed the money more than
me, and my boots are now as shiney as they were that cold December day
in Oslo shortly before Christmas and the start of my adventure. Right,
thats a note. Everyone in Oslo told me that the boots I wanted would
be too warm for India. I am happy I did not listen to them. My boots
were nothing short of perfect, comfortable with all the walking, nice
and warm in the cold mornings and saved my ankles more than onces in
the rough stairs that are leading to and from every temple and
fortress and palace. Norwegian mountain hiking boots are ideal for
Indian travels. If they DO get too warm down south (its already 35
degrees + outside during the day according to the weather data on my
phone, not that we feel it much in our airconditioned train) I also
picked up a set of Gobi hiking sandals in Cologne before leaving.
The time of departure of our train drew close and a train was arriving
at our platform. Our carriers were not to be seen, though. Susanne
went over to ask a couple of tourists standing close by. One of them
were German! We got it explained how the overhead information board
displayed data and that it would cycle between Hindi and English. That
way we realised that the train standing there was not ours, and
shortly after the train left, the carriers came to tell us the same
thing. Now that we had the information board to look at, we realised
that we were in for a little wait. Only 30 minutes or so, however.
Another two trains arrived but neither matched our train number. ~40
minutes later the display changed to Arriving, and another 5 minutes
train and carriers arrived at the same time. We were guided to our
seats, made sure everything was there and paid them. We had gotten the
top bunks and I climbed up and started making myself comfortable -
building a little den. Carbine hooks should never be underestimated,
and one of them are now securing my shoulder bag to one of the roof
mounting points for my bed. I also extended the power outlet in the
train, so we have to outlets accessible from up here. I was lucky with
the extender I brought, it was just a random thought as I was checking
to see that everything was packed and it proved extremely useful as we
have often only had access to one socket in the hotels and other
places. Linen and blankets were distributed and I made my bed ready.
Only one of the bottom bunks were taken, by a nice young Indian from
up north. We sat "downstairs" with him and chatted for some time until
I retreated to my bunk for "taking the relax" as Sanji would have
said.
I started reading a little on my Kindle (Sacred Stone by Clive
Cussler, the last book I had to read in the Oregon Files series), and
started Spotiy on my phone. Spotify I have been using quite a bit
here. Often I have found that plugging in the hearphones is the only
way to get some mental privacy here, the walls are always so thin.
Falling asleep with Rammstein and waking up with Beach Boys a couple
of hours later, I climbed down to Susanne who was sitting on the other
side of the hallway looking out of the window studying the landscape.
I joined her on the opposing seat and enjoyed the view until sunset.
We must have switched to diesel at some point, as there were no longer
any poles for electricity and there was a thick black cloud following
us a short distance away from the window. A train employee came around
and took dinner orders. We both opted for the "veg" option. I got
quite a bit further in my book before food arrived, and we moved over
to our little cabin. Each cabin consists of 2 beds suspended under the
roof, and two "backrest
-cum-beds" that can either be a bed with the seatback folded down of a
couch that comfortably holds 3 people when the seatback is folded up.
The table is quite small so we used the space on the couch between us
to set up our meal. we were served three alufoil containers and a
plastic cup of water. The larger container held rice, two roti and a
small bag of pickle. Each of the two smaller containers held different
kinds of food. One was a nice thick sort of vegetable mix, based on
potato (aloo). The other was more of a soup based on lentils (dal).
While the aloosomething was spicy, the dal was the closest I hope I
will ever come to eating red-glowing lava.
Still, it made me full. At some point after eating, someone who had
booked the couch/bed we were sitting on arrived so we retreated
"upstairs". It was not just a "someone" actually, but what appeared to
be a revered holy man, or somesuch. The easiest way to describe him
would be "Father Christmas" dressed in orange and decorated with
flowers thread onto a long string. The goblins were replaced by a
whole menagerie of Indian caretakers, and he was constantly getting
his legs massaged and everything else taken care of. I must have
fallen asleep sometime before midnight, as the person sleeping under
me was supposed to get off around that time. Before heading off into
dreamland though, I had to bite the sour apple as they say and finally
give the funny "Indian style" crouching toilet a go for the first time
since arriving here. I was actually less problematic than I had feared
but with my bad knee it is not the best of solutions for me. I did see
a glimmer of hope as each of the two toilets on the end of the car I
visited were marked "Indian Style" with a sign on the door, and a
placard inside said something to the effect of "Do not leave the seats
on Western Style toilets wet". Western Style sounded good.
I woke up as someone said "10!" out loud and clear, the number of my
bunk. Food?! I had forgotten than I had ordered breakfast sometime
after dinner. I got another of the large alufoil packages. This time
it had half an omelette and three slices of freshly sliced white
bread. Crude, but yammy. Susanne went for the Indian Breakfast; I am
not sure what it was but she said it tasted nice. Not long after
having finished my food, there was a person walking by selling more
bread and omelette. Thats aslo worthy of a note actually - during the
day there is an even stream of people selling stuff walking through
the coridors. "Coffee!" "Chai!" "Chips and bisquits!" "Cold drinks!"
and so on and so on. We have tried some of the dirrefent snacks. I
especially liked this one thing that was a cross between the two
different styles of breadrolls we have in norway (rundstykke, bolle).
It had the taste approximating the first and the consistency of the
latter. Anyway, as the "Bread, Omelette! Omelette, Bread,
Omelette!"-vendor was coming back I took the chance to grab a couple
of boxes more. I only had 500-bills though and the vendor was unable
to exchange, but before I realised what happened one of the aids of
our orange father christmas had exhanged it with 100s. Thank you,
whomever you were! After 9 slices of bread with omelette I was truly
"satt" as they say in German. Susanne talked me out of bed and back
into the chairs as soon as the holy person and his entourage had
gotten out. I did venture down the other end of the carriage and was
happy to find that one of the toilets there were of the "Western
Style". I finished my book as the day went on, and I've just started
another one I bought before leaving Germany, the latest in the Dirk
Pitt-series from the same author as before. If someone remembers the
movie Sahara, it is based on an earlier book in the same series. At
one point we got a new bedbug in our compartment, be he was/is mostly
sleeping. Lunch arrived, it was pretty much identical our our dinner
last night, just with a slightly different makeup of the two dishes.
Sauce was still impossibly spicy. I then paid for both our lunches and
my upcoming dinner to save the guy taking order from having to procure
too many small bills. Even my 100s are a little large here.
Shortly before 8, when food arrived, we stopped somewhere in northern
Goa and a lot of people got off. Susanne had spent most of the time
after sunset to write on her blog and the Eee was running low on power
so we went back up into our beds. My dinner arrived shortly after,
while SUsanne had not ordered one as she was still full from lunch.
She said. Before eating half my dinner. Women. A lady boarded the
train and is now occupying the other bed downstairs so we are "stuck"
up here. The rooflight has been out most of the day as the guy under
me was mostly sleeping anyway. There are still night-lights for each
bed though and they cast a cozy dim yellow glow on the beds. I got
more reading done and Susanne got more writing done until she wanted
to get some rest. Now I'm happily tapping away on it writing this. I
am sitting directly under the A/C outlet as the roof is getting warm,
I am quite comfortable where I am though. It is roughly a quarter past
10 in the evening and I guess I go to sleep soon too. If I am lucky
Ill be able to post this tonight, it all depends on my ability to find
a cellular signal for long enough to upload it. Perhaps we will have
internet in the hotel in Cochin tomorrow so we can dump some more
photos on Flickr. Again Im stuck in notepad and I wont have the time
to do proofreading in Chrome while posting this so I am sorry for all
the typos I am sure are still lurking around here.
*edit: I never got it to work so I fell asleep around midnight. Now
its 9 soon and Im trying again.
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