Intrepid Journeys - India

‘Enjoying’ some more of the same back in the village with the Fam after a phenomenal journey from Goa to Mumbai and then Navsari. Air Deccan struggles at best compared to Kingfisher Airlines, my opinion not helped by the delay we were subjected to for our Goa-Mumbai trip. This wrecked havoc with our Mumbai-Navsari journey. The result being Maya and myself, travelling on a train that we didn’t have tickets for, despite having tickets for the one before AND the one after! Air Deccan did win quote-of-the-day though, with “Passengers are requested to please settle down” as got on the plane.

Landing in Mumbai at 7pm instead of 6, combined with the discovery that our taxi driver had no clue whatsoever how to get to Bhanderi station meant our 7.30 train to Navsari had long gone by the time we arrived for it. Deciding to take things into our owns hands, we joined the throngs of people mashed against the ticket counters in an attempt to a) find out when the next train to Navsari was, b) get tickets and c) get the heck aboard!

Simple right? Think again. There’s no actual timetable on the wall or anywhere (have previously tried the net but it’s an absolute maze) and there were, strangely enough, TWO sets of 8-or-so counters no less than 30m apart, each differently labelled in Hindi with what you were meant to do where. In the chaos, whilst everyone spared a second or two to answer our questions in english, very few made any sense. Imagine you’re asking directions but half the people say left and the other half point right. Then add some darkness, a few hundred people, yelling, screaming, beggars, pickpockets, 25kg of backpack and you’re close to Bhandari Terminus 8pm on the 8th of Feb.

Splitting up to try penetrate the masses, we ended up with cattle-class tickets on a 22:30 train that stopped in Navsari. Lost out due to some weird process you’ve gotta go though to get first class, despite me telling the guy at the counter it’s what I wanted. You WANT to be in first or second class in Indian trains. The locals travel anything below: think no seats, think no doors, think filth. Having somehow gleamed that there was also one departing at 21:00, Maya insisted we try to get on it. I was happy to go along as the above cattle class seriously didn’t appeal. Pacing along the 30 or so carriages in the hope of finding the conductor we found ourselves up against a smartly dressed gentleman in black pinstripes. He was our man! And for a mere 430 ruppees each he said we could upgrade to second class. After being absolutely certain that this ‘express’ train actually stopped in Navsari, we boarded and hoped for the best.

Four hours, one of them standing and no less than three seat-changes later we were at our destination. We almost made the whole 300km trip on NZ$4 too! But the conductor remembered the little ‘deal’ we had. Quite an enjoyable trip once you know you’re gonna get dropped at your stop and you’re a (vaguely) legitimate passenger. There were about 3 or 4 bridal parties doing the 15hour ride to Rajestan, all adorned with lots of colourful, shiny stuff and looking nothing short of amazing. Even managed to get blessed by some bloody scary transvestites! Officially called ‘Eunuchs’ or ‘hijras’, the Lonely Planet says some of them were “unlucky enough to be kidnapped and castrated”…not such a comforting though to have echoing in my head when they came and started talking to us! They travel around begging, performing as unwanted entertainers and as hookers. Apparently there’s something real superstitious about them and they can lay either a blessing or curse on you. Either way, they asked for cash and Maya insisted on asking what for / where were they going etc. Cowering in the corner I was mentally urging her open up that wallet and throw them some rupee!! Luckily enough we gave 50rupees covered the both of us and she we scored a blessing for us and our village. Phew, close shave! (chop?)

Made another hectic venture into Navsari and had a few revelations by the end of it. Love the animals in India; just everywhere, doing their own thing. They epitomise the people here… stop, stare at you, have a think, see if they can possbily scam you, stare again and then go about their day. They don’t give a damn. The wild ones aren’t scared of you, nor do they want to harm you. Just nose around, see what they can get off of you and then move onto their next prey. End of the day they don’t give a f#*k!

Saw a wicked sight in the vegetable ‘bazaar’. There was this cow just cruising around amongst the masses (nothing too unusual). But this bovine beast had an agenda. While the Fam were looking at veggies for dinner, he snuck in beside Maya and got his gob around some nice fresh carrots – straight from the vendor’s stall! Finding himself promptly whacked with the vendor’s stick, he backed off and carried on his way. Within a few paces he was at it again; ended up strolling down the bazaar sneaking whatever he could from the stalls and getting whacked with sticks or hands. Small price to pay I guess!

Our car driver is a bit of a funny-guy, he keeps hassling me about there being plenty of eligible young girls out there for me. Reckons all I have to do is give him 51 rupees and he can get the marriage all sorted! Personally I think he just likes my hair…keeps asking me if I’ll leave him my wax before I leave. What a clown!!!