Delhi to Hardiwar

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A lot has happened since leaving Delhi, and I will try to summarize for you all as best I can. Once again I must apologize for the lack of pictures. The internet shops I have been able to find have connections as intermittent as the power, and the only one I can find in town that has service does not have the ability for me to upload photo's. So far I am finding India to be a place that pictures could never do justice, and my writing has never been my strong point. I will do my best to paint everyone a picture of whats been going on though.

The hotel where I was staying in Delhi was in the Paharganj area, very close to New Delhi. My train to Hardiwar; however, was leaving from the Old Delhi train station. That was going to be at least an hours rickshaw ride away through traffic. Packing my bag and neotiating a fair price of 120 Rs (approximately $2 and change) we set out at around 8:00 p.m. The transition from New Delhi to Old Delhi was nothing less than shocking for me. The roads gave way from pavement to severely washed out and rutted gravel and dirt, and the traffic, people, smells, poverty, and everything else you can imagine started to multiply exponentially. Its extremely hard to describe the smell which is a mixture of feces, urine, a heavy dose of diesel, wood smoke, and the occasional draught of incence and fried sweets. Its something that you just have to experience. Dodging people, cattle, stray dogs, cycle rickshaws and traffic we were cutting things extremely close even managing to scrape another rickshaw on the way. Carrie and Chad, when you get here, keep your hands and anything else you want to keep inside.

The ride was nothing short of frightening. There is no way I would be able to get my dirtbike through these streets at the speed the driver was moving his rickshaw, and my suspension would be extremely hot after such a workout. With its tiny lawnmower sized tires, and 1/2" axles I was astounded that the thing stayed in one piece.

The Old Delhi train station was pretty much overwhelming to someone that had only been in India a couple of days. I managed to find a few Israeli tourists who tried to help unsuccesfully, before finding a spanish girl with very good english to point me in the right direction. She was traveling north to Kalka to meet a friend with her Mother, and I offered them a seat on my backpack where we had a really nice conversation for around an hour. I cant tell you how nice it was to talk to someone else after a couple of days of isolation. There really is no seats or waiting area or anything like that in the train station. I am told it is possible to rent retiring rooms if you have a long wait at a station but my being a couple hours early for my train did not warrant it in my opinion. So I passed the time staring patiently at the arrivals and departures board and laying on the concrete floor just like so many others. I honestly can't imagine what it would have been like in the middle of the day as it was packed and difficult to move around in at 10:00 p.m.

After my train finally arrived, and I found the correct car and seat with the help of an exceptionally nice young indian man I chained up my bag and got as comfortable as I could for the 8 hour journey ahead. There was a German couple traveling in the same car as me and we quickly struck up a conversation. It was once again really nice to have some company, and I was surprised at how flawless their english was. Everyone was exhausted though, and I fell asleep almost immediately after the train started moving.

About an hour later the fun really started. Due to the heat all the windows in the train car were open when we set out. Somewhere in that first hour of our trip it started to rain though, and I woke up to soaking wet clothes and a waterlogged seat. There was not going to be any more sleeping for me that evening. Instead I just watched the blackness roll past out the now closed window, straining the whole time to make out the shapes in the distance.

Upon arriving to Hardiwar I had another brief discussion with the German couple who it turns out were traveling with a third companion in a different class of train car. They were off to meet their friend, and I was off to find the bus stand where a train leaves for Rishikesh every half an hour. Checking my watch it was around 7:00 a.m. and I had woke up at about 5:00 a.m. the day before. I was exhausted, cold, and already wet so I decided to try and get onto a bus as quickly as possible. Once I was outside the station I was greeted by the torrential downpour of the monsoon. I have seen some rainstorms before, but this was unlike anything I have ever seen. I quickly went back inside and found a tiny patch of free floorspace to try and waterproof my things. I did the best I could and set back out to find the bus stand.

Water was a foot deep in places of the street, and these are streets where you watch where you walk when they are dry. Covered in refuse, cattle dung, and lord knows what else, my shoes were completely full of water immediately. Despite my best efforts to keep my things dry I was literally soaked through in less than 10 minutes. I was having a difficult time finding anyone that could point me in the direction of the bus stand, and there was no way I could take out my guide book without loosing it within seconds to the rain. No choice but to pick a street and start walking, asking locals along the way. Finally I did find someone that was able to understand I was trying to reach the bus station, and was able to give me enough information through hand gestures for me to realize I was going the wrong way. It was not too far back in the other direction that I did find the bus stand; however, reaching the terminal I encountered my next problem. There was at least 20 or so buses all waiting in a big lot and I was going to have to find the correct one. Asking locals about the right bus to Rishikesh merely provoked head bobs, and a "yes, yes, rishikesh". Looking at my watch, I had spent roughly 20 minutes trying to find the correct bus, and had not had any luck so far. Approaching a small hut labeled Tourist Police I found two officers inside who seemed to understand me fine, but understandably were not willing to come out of their hut to show me the correct bus, and were unable to communicate verbaly which one I should choose.

I decided to forget the bus and walk back the way I came and see if I could hire a taxi to take me there. I found a prepaid taxi booth, but it was unmanned. Eventually I just decided to duck under a tiny makeshift roof and collect my thoughts. What the hell am I doing here I though to myself. I cant find a single soul that is able to help me, I am soaked to the absolute bone, I dont know how the hell I am going to get to where I want to go, and at this point I dont know how easy its going to be to just go back the way I came. I was so tired, cold, and confused about what to do next that I had serious thoughts about just leaving, getting a flight to the UK and chilling out in Europe until my girlfriend arrives in Paris. Looking back on things now I realize that I was just really overreacting, but I was really frustrated at that point. Actually, looking back on things I probably would have handled everything much differently. Its been a learning experience for me over here for sure. EVERYTHING is different.

One last thing to try. I pulled out a 500 rupee bil and started hollering "Rishikesh, Rishikesh" by the side of the road. It wasnt too long and an Indian man came over and told me to wait right where I was. He said something about 50 rupee's, pulled the bill out of my hand, and took off into the rain. I waited patiently for him for around half an hour. I was just becoming convinced that I had been fleeced, when he magically appeared with my change! He grabbed me by the arm, and guided me a few hundred meters down the road where he and a friend had held the bus for me! Just as I was hopping on I noticed the German couple and their friend coming out of the train station, and wanting to spare them the same experience that I had just had I yelled at them to get on. They ran for the bus, hopped in, and we all finally set out for Rishikesh.

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