The first fine in India followed by an awful journey

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Thanks to our host in Humpi, we managed to obtain two tickets to Goa on next Monday. This means, we would be able to spend the weekend in Humpi. Cycling made easy for us to visit many places in Humpi and exploring the area thoroughly within a short period of time. Regardless of being isolated from the other major destinations, Humpi was in fact a nice place to relax. So far Humpi remains the most visited place by us in India.

Last night sleep was very short of us. We had to get up early to catch the first bus to Hospet. Our train was due to arrive at Hospet Junction at around 8.30pm, which would be in Vasco-de-gama station at 3.30pm in Goa.

The bus left Humpi before the sunrise. Hospet was still sleeping town when the bus reached its final destination. We rushed to the railway station to find the railway station deserted.

The silence broke up as soon as the first train reached the platform. The chailwala, newspaper sellers and everyone were rushing from one side of the train to other side. People began to move in & out of the station, as soon as the first train stopped at the train station. Within an hour, it became a chaotic place kicked off with early morning rush hour.

We checked the electronic notice board to find right platform but there was not any train announced for us. We waited for a while, then the second train arrived from the opposite direction to the other. It was not the one we were supposed to take. There was a slight panic feeling in my body, I could not restrain myself. Nanu seem not calm either, this made me nervous. I repeatedly checked our tickets and the carriage number to make sure that we don't take a chance to miss the only train of the week from Hospet to Goa. The wrong number on the carriage convinced us to stay back of the platform & we did stay far from all.

There was no usual announcement on the loud-speakers. I thought that we can relax on the platform for a while. In the mean time, the first train left the platform. The second one was waiting at the other side of the platform.

We realised that we have missed our train only when we questioned the station master about the delayed Goa bound train. He could not bother to reply, instead he pointed out the leaving train from the other side of the platform. I wanted to throttle him very badly. Oh, that was the one, going to take us to Goa. We were in a rage with everyone. It was a great disappointment for us after a relaxing holidays in Humpi.

According to the station master, it was entirely our fault, because we did not ask anyone about Goa train. Why should we ask about? We had been taking train from Trivandrum and we never asked anyone about departing time. I repeatedly questioned the station master. Whose fault then to display the wrong train number on the side of the carriages? Whose fault to mislead the passengers? We got stuck in this stinky platform with a bunch of morons. I wanted to scream at all of them who looked at us, as we are stupid - unreliable - cheats. Do they know that they messed our plan? I held my head in a pain. What shall I do now? What can I do now?

We went back to see the station master who was already in his room having his breakfast. He advised us to take the next train to Hubli, from there to take another train to Vasco-de-gama.

After arguing with the station master, we secured two tickets free of charge. The next train arrived around mid-day. It was already full so we sat between the train door and the toilet entrance. It was not even suitable for an animal to be here. How ever we had to stay close to our back-packs.

We arrived Hubli in the afternoon. This place seemed so unfriendly to us. Hubli is a dusty town, first impression was frightening. There is no evidence of a little scratch of development taken place here. All the way along the rail track, a lot of unauthorised huts were built with old plastic sheets and cardboards. I was frightened to see the way beggars demand money from those who get down from the trains.

One after another, they kept coming to us as a wave of sea water. It was a sad scene to observe. A little girl was begging for money or food, her brother-like a little boy was carrying snakes in a box behind her, an old lady was being guided by a little girl who must be less than 10 years old.

We had to wait two more hours for the next train to Goa. This gave us an opportunity to have a brief wander around this duty town. Nothing special in Hubli except scattered little shops, little mud houses and moving objects.

On our return, we took our back-packs from the left luggage. Our train to Goa was on time but it's now nearly 8pm. We were delighted to leave this place before it gets dark. Another night on the train.

In a hurry, we got out of the train around 9am next day. It is an unsolved mystery, as we got out of the train at the wrong station in Goa. We might have been so tired, I believe. Our wrong stop is in between Hubli and Vasco-de-gama, the place called Madagon.

As we were walking with other passengers when we were stopped by the ticket checker at the exit gate. This was a new experience to us. We believed that we would be allowed to go, even though our disembarkation another twenty or so kilometres far, which is Vasco-de-gama. The man who checked our tickets asked us to follow another man who almost guarded us against our escape. It was just a hilarious the way he walked behind us. We were given a piece paper written - Fine for wrong disembarkation and another piece of paper for our luggages. Oh god, it was too much for us over
300Rs!

We demanded from them to reduce the fine while I was (honestly) showing them my money belt. We had only 230Rs left. I was very careful not to show them the traveller's cheques or English currencies despite one person was so keen to have a close look inside the money belt. They were convinced that we could not pay the fine. We were finally left with a five rupee coin, which was enough us to share a cup of tea.

They refused to issue a fine paper for two hundred and thirty ruppes! I was questioning myself, was it wrong to get down before the final destination, even though we had valid tickets?

When we stepped out of the train station, it was raining heavily. We couldn't get a rickhsaw, because we were penniless. We only managed to reach the nearest bank to find that the bank doesn't deal with foreign exchange. Despite heavy rain, we walked with our heavy-soaked backpacks to an another bank. It was not open until 10am. We were unfortunate today. There is no point walking further to find a bank. So we remained with the security guard. We were the first customers today. We were given two hot cups of coffees, I happily drank both. Nanu was not keen on anything today, except to reach Panaji.

As soon as we got our money, we hurried to catch a bus to Panaji. We reached outskirts of the capital of Goa, from there we took another bus to Panaji. It was still raining when we arrived at the bus station. A rickshawalla agreed to take us to a guest house which is not far from the main city.

The guest house was run by a middle aged man who asked us to fill a form for our own safety. We learnt from him that there was a bomb attack in Ahmedabad. As soon as we dropped our back in the room, we went for the food hunt. It was drizzling, when we began our walk. We had to take cover at the church of the Immaculate Conception which is one of the most elegant & picturesque monuments in Goa, built in 1541 A.D. There was no sign of clear sky, which reminded me a winter in England. We gave up our tour & went to have an early dinner.

We decided to leave Goa as soon as possible. Apparently it was the first fall of torrential rain. How ever, it was not easy to get a ticket last minute. So we ended up leaving Panaji to Old Goa which is located ten Kilometres away. I fairly believed that the rain may cease in Old Goa but it kept raining steadily. We caught a local bus to Old Goa. From there we hired a van to visit some of the famous churches in Old Goa otherwise it would have been impossible to do ourselves. Then we took cover from the downpour at chapel of St. Xavier, on the way back we stopped to have something to eat. The only so called fish restaurant near St. Catherin's cathedral ripped us of outrageously for two slices of deep fried fish which was supposed to be a golden fish!

It is time to leave Goa completely. There was no end of this awful rain which was pouring heavily and unsympathetically.

We were given a lift by a motor cyclist who cruise under heavy rain. There will be a train leaving Panaji to Ahmedabad, where we finally got cheated at the internet cafe. We lost almost seven hundreds photos!

This entry will appear as miserable as our miserable journey from Goa to Ahamedabad!

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