Final Destination - Chamba

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After an early morning start and brisk walk uphill in search of a rickshaw, I made it to the station in time for my 6.20am 2nd Class train to Puthankot - a transport hub with the oddest looking scooters I've ever seen - they looked like something out of a post nuclear war movie... that one with Tina Turner in - Mad Max!. I was the only westerner at the station and searched out some nice looking Indian women to wait with, assuming we would end up in the same carriage. I stood swaying with my rucksack on my back waiting for the train, not quite sure what to expect, but poised to leap into action when it arrived. You have to be prepared if you want a seat, and thank goodness for all the practice I've had on Brixton/ Dalston buses; I don't think my feet hit the ground as I was hoisted into the train and pushed to a hard wooden slated seat next to a window with metal shutters - no luxury on this trip! To add to the confusion there is also the added complication that everyone appears to want to sit next to the foreigner or at least be in a good position to stare.

Four hours of staring later - yes surprised me too, I didn't think I was that interesting, we arrived. Having realised that I had no clue where the bus station was, or actually where the train station was - as people just disappeared across the tracks into the surrounding town, I stumbled across a very efficient Himachal Pradesh tourist office - this place never fails to suprise me - just when you think "what am I going to do..." something pops up and with directions, I made my way to the bus station. At first glance the bus station was a very impressive set of new buildings but they were completely empty (I have subsequently found out that it is "being decorated!") - after some exploring around the back, in amongst the mud and rubble I saw three very efficient bus conductors sitting poised for customers. I purchased my ticket and prayed that my bus would be the least decrepid one in the lot... well as it turns out it was a pretty bus - with fowers on the dashboard and orange/ red patterns painted onto the windows.

Seven hours later, two punctures, no loo stop and a numb bum, we made it to Chamba - having driven our way through some beautiful countryside - terraced fields, colourfully decorated roadside temples, sheer valley slopes, pine forrests, villages clinging to the valley sides, hoards of beautifull dressed school children who looked like they were in a percil ad.

The driving really is something to be experienced - I'll say no more!

On reflection I am not sure how I made it from the station to the hotel- but I'm so pleased I'd booked ahead and after a hot shower, cable TV (Scooby Do II!) and a veg currey I was almost normal again.

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