Train Lines and Fun times

I woke up and looked at the clock to that sickly, sinking feeling one gets when they realise that they are late for something important. That something in this case was my train to
Jodhpur. It wasn't so much that I was late, more the fact that my bag lay in the corner of the room pathetically empty whilst the contents were strewn unhelpfully throughout the flat. Minutes past like seconds as I stuffed 'objects' inside my now bulging rucksack. With barely enough time to fill my water bottle from the filtering device above the sink, I ran out of the flat and down the stairs praying that I hadn't left behind anything too crucial.

A frenetic rickshaw ride later and I arrived at Borivali Station with my 2 unecessarily heavy bags, a ticket for the train and no clue of which platform to catch it from. The station signage did little to ease my plight and I cursed myself for not having learnt to read Hindi. Come to think of it, learning to speak Hindi would have been a similarly good investment as my desperate cries for help were met with blank looks from all station officials. Finally one man started mumbling '4 number platform, 4 number platform' under his breath as he stared at the floor and turned his back to me. Out of options I ran to platform number 4 to see a tiny board at the other end flashing with the number of the train which was printed on my ticket. Pheeeeew!

I've never sweated quite so much in my entire life. A mixture of midday heat, running around with 25kg of luggage on my back, and blind panic had succeded in turning my once pristine t-shirt into a soggy rag.

25 minutes past and the train still hadn't arrived. My body however was still managing to produce enough sweat to fill an olympic swimming pool. Onlookers on the platform seemed quite fascinated by this bizarre human specimin, an remained staring at me for the duration. You have to love it.

Finally the train arrives and everyone bundles on. My sleeping bunk is one of 6 in a booth in coah S2. The remaining 5 bunks are taken up by one entire family who seem very unhappy to see me become the 6th member. A slightly aukward moment passes. I decide to move further down the coach for a while, allowing the breeze to dry my rather moist clothing before returning to my loving family of 5. They seem a little less unpset now and appear satisfied with just ignoring me. This is fine.

A 19 hour journey passes relatively quickly with a mixture of activities inluding, reading, drinking water, eating snacks, reading, running out of water, reading, becoming unbelievably thirsty, reading, and eventually sleeping to supress the pain of extreme dehydration. Upon waking I thought I was about to die. There was nothing I wouldn't do to get my hands on some water. At 3am in the morning the train pulled into some random station and sat there. All I could see was the man standing about 50 meters away selling bottles of water. Could I make it in time before the train pulled away? What would happen If it did pull away? Where was I?... Did I care? No... I ran for it. Bought the water, waited as the man maticulously counted out my change with extreme slowness, and then legged it for the open door of the train. Just as I grabbed the railing the train began to move off. I polished off half a litre before even reaching my bunk. Bliss!

Arriving in Jodhpur at 6.30am and I was immediately faced with a wall of people on the platform. Some waiting for a train, but the majority seemed to be living on the platform. Whole families just asleep under rags. Picking my way through the crowds I managed to secure myself a Rickshaw and headed off into the labarynth of streets that make up the old town, beneath the immense fort that dominates the skyline. Amazingly the rickshaw guy did not try to take me to a hotel of his choosing (to grab some commission) but dropped me directly at my pre-booked destination, Yogi's Guesthouse, at around 7am where I preceeded to fall straight to sleep for another 3 hours.

150Rs for a single room with shared bathroom. No ventialtion and extremely hot when the fan stops whiring. Great place though, lovely rooftop and plenty of friendly travellers.