48 hours, a very 'Indian' weekend.

Louise and I sometimes have an 'India' day. This is usually when a couple of particularly Indian things happen such as getting stared at too much, rickshaw drivers really trying to rip you off or being run over more than once. What we have experienced is very much an Indian weekend and I shall explain why below.

It began with a trip to the post office, something which is considered a chore in the UK, but straightforward nonetheless. We first of all walked into a reasonably sized building, about 20 stories high and with approximately 30 counters and about an acre of space behind them with plenty of people siting around drinking chai. We waited patiently in the queue and we then told they did not have the capacity to deal with our package and that we should go to the general post office,another ten minute walk down the road. After some ranting to each other about how that was so Indian we walked along to find the GPO in the middle of a roundabout with no apparent means to cross over to the entrance. We danced, ducked and dived our way across holding three bags, a 2 litre bottle of water and a Leprechaun and made it safely to the door. We waited again in a queue to have our package wrapped in white linen cloth, which is mandatory in India, why I hear you ask........like I said, this was turning into an India day. We managed to post our package without any more fuss and thought we'd done quite well to get that all done before lunchtime. We patted ourselves on our backs and headed to old Delhi to experience true North Indian cuisine at a place called Karims, which translates as meat, meat and more meat. We avoided meat for most of our time here but we were advised to go here, so we did. It was very enjoyable and it left us with just enough time to pop in to see the Jama Masjid, the biggest mosque in India. We jumped up the steps and strolled through the gate and literally about to step into the sunshine on the other side when we heard “STOP, CAMERA, TICKET!!!!!” What happened next I will not write but lets just say we taught them some new English, like i said we were having an India day.

We headed back to our hotel and prepared to leave Delhi as we headed on our train to the Nepal border. After a very sweaty and adrenalin rushing walk along the main bazaar in Pahar Ganj we walked into New Delhi train station to catch the Gorakdam Express to Gorakpur, our gateway to the Himalaya's. We took the escalator up to the platform to be met with the announcement “The Gorakdam express has been canceled, we deeply regret any inconvenience.” Louise had to pick up my jaw from the floor before we went to the tourist office and inquired as to exactly why. We were met with the explanation of “track is not clear” and we presumed this was due to maintenance or a broken down train and they would expect the train we were re-booked onto the next morning would be running.

After another sweaty etc... walk back to our hotel we checked back into our room and caught a few hours sleep before we got up at 5am and headed to catch our new train. We arrived 90 minutes early and waited patiently on the platform as we became the local staring object and we observed the many washing/preparation rituals performed by many on the platform or under the water taps in between the rail tracks. Our train should have arrived on the platform at 720 and left at 750 so at 740 Louise went and checked the board, to find the word 'terminated' under our train. Others were saying canceled or delayed so we were a little confused, especially as there was no announcement detailing what was happening but multiple announcements about the others. After about 20 minutes of asking various train staff we ascertained that the train was diverted away from Delhi and would not be calling here today, 'Why?' we asked, shrug of shoulders was the response. Back we went to the tourist office and requested to be re-booked again on the next available train which was that evening. We asked again, 'why was the train canceled/diverted?”, “I think there is some protest” was the response, “will the train run tonight?” we asked, the same shrug of the shoulders (standard issue action for train staff I think).

At this point we were a little worried due to the fact we had to exit India on a specific date due to a clause in our Visa's. We sat in our favourite cafe for 8 hours as we ate and drank the hours away researching any other options to enter Nepal on the 15th, two days away. We made our way to the train station and immediately verified that the train was canceled and we required to cancel our ticket. We walked round the corner to find the cancellation queue to find a maelstrom of bodies trying to do the same thing. I stood in one as Louise stood in the Ladies queue. 3 hours later we managed to escape, but not after witnessing bribe after bribe taking place as people skipped the queue. We told ourselves we wouldn't do that again, we'd just forfeit the money to save ourselves from the hassle. We decided to attempt to get a bus to Banbasa, the closest border crossing from Delhi, and duly made our way to the bus station where we caught another bus to another bus station. It was at this point we experienced the only moment of genuine kindness in the last two days A man got his friend to take us right across the bus station, through the touts and drug sellers and onto the quieter bus so we could get a seat and refused to take a tip after it all. We were really quite touched and although I was coughing quite heavily due to all the pollution and Louise was very tired we made it to the other side of Delhi.

Unfortunately there was no bus until the morning and we took the decision to find a room and look at other options. Finally at 2AM we made it back to Pahar Ganj and got a grubby room for the night, getting a few hours needed rest. We woke early and decided after our last couple of days we should bite the bullet and just get out of Delhi by whatever means possible. It was the 14th of March and we had run out of options so we hired a private car and driver and were on our way by 10am. This trip was uneventful, apart from the driver not really knowing where to go and having to stop for directions every 40 minutes. We ended up in Banbasa and was sold a story by the driver of hotels not accepting foreigners. Bearing in mind it was a border town we didn't really believe this but at this point we were completely exhausted, fed up with India and just wanted to have somewhere to sleep. We ended up with a room dirtier than the previous nights, and with a total of 3 cockroaches killed in the first 15 minutes you can guess the standard of the room.

We woke early, had a disagreement about the price of the rickshaw to the border and set out determined to walk all the way there if necessary. Once the rickshaw drivers understood we were serious they dropped their price and were were soon bouncing our way towards Nepal. With every turn of the wheels we began to feel better, at the Indian immigration post we didn't mind that there were 3 men doing half a mans job or that they hardly spoke a word to us and we didn't mind that it was a 15 minute walk to the Nepal border. With every step we took we began to breathe fresher air, the stress of the past 48 hours was beginning to lift and the mountains appeared in front of the rising sun. As we left India and into Nepal the last conversation we had is detailed below, it will hopefully help you understand India.

Indian Gentleman: 'Hello, where are from?'
John: 'We are from Ireland'
Indian Gentleman: 'Ah Ireland, where are you going?'
John: 'We are going to Nepal'
Indian Gentleman: 'Ah Nepal, yes I know it'

Since the Indian gentleman was a soldier guarding the India-Nepal border crossing we were rather relieved to know that nepal was a place he knew of!..like I said it was a very Indian weekend.