Very British Empire

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Firstly, let me assure you, that I have no idea where Sandakphu is, but I can only assume that it is really rather pleasant, or this blogsite would be letting me write without having to enter that I am there.

So... India.

No, it really hasn't changed. Still stuck in the 70's, with the Bee Gees Saturday Night Fever soundtrack blaring (perhaps just in my head), men all in high-waisted, booty-hugging flares, and bouffant side-partings.

Fantastic.

We arrived in Calcutta, tired from our early start, and bumpy descent, and were greeted by the usual throng of people asking for money. We changed some dollars into rupees, bought a pre-paid taxi ticket (to insure we wouldn't be ripped off), and ambled out into the hazy heat. Someone grabbed our ticket, and ran off to a stream of taxis, waking up someone who was sleeping in the back, of what was to be ours. The man, hurriedly dressed, and came out to open to boot (trunk), and help us with our bags. Once inside, we were at the mercy of his manic driving - truly making the driving of Thailand seem highly sensible and controlled.

First impressions of Calcutta were similar to those of any other - hectic, loud, colorful. Aleko couldn't wipe the smile off of his face, as we squeezed between buses, out-ran (and cut off) siren-blaring ambulances, almost ran over several old ladies, and finally ended up at our destination of Foreigner Railway Ticket Office.

Don't get me wrong, I have a great interest in seeing Calcutta... but, after weeks of Chiang Mai and Bangkok, I longed for some relaxation... as did Aleko (I would like to add that, before you think I'm controlling the entire trip... which is only 39% true). We decided, after sampling some dodgy-looking street food, to make our way to the station, regardless of the fact it was about 10 hours until our 10.05pm departure.

Not the smartest idea, as it turned out. However, as it was so darn impossible to hail a cab, we figured we'd rather know we weren't going to miss our train. So fast forward a few hours, and we're sitting on newspaper, dripping sweat, in a piss-ridden hole of a train station (which has many bill-boards depicting the station in the 1970s and now - obviously proud of how far it's come. The only possible addition I could see, was yet more layers of faeces and urine. I am not joking. I don't think this place has seen more than a broom in 40 years).

So yes... enjoyable.

The hours crawled past, and I concurred that perhaps leaving our bags at the left luggage, and venturing out to see the Victoria Memorial, and other gems of the British Empire, would have been preferable, yet without knowing the city, and only knowing how congested the traffic was, we were loathe to venture too far.

I will not bore you with what happened during these hours (sweat, tears, me finding a hand made fan I bought in Thailand, using it accordingly), but finally, with about half an hour to go, we ambled to the platform, to wait for the train. I would like to interject here with how much I longed for a shower - like never before. Bloody awful. I have had many Danny Glover instances of thinking "I'm too old for this shit" (sorry, mom). And I haven't even seen Lethal Weapon!

So yes, the platform. Aleko gets chatting to a young Indian man with a guitar, who was also waiting for our train. Being the wife of Aleko, I am dutifully ignored. Women, unless unaccompanied, get very little attention, and may as well be invisible (unless you count the sleazy men eyeing you up). Right in the middle of a conversation (or at least Aleko was. I was mute). Two men appear to my left, and I hear "Hiya guys!".

It is Ali. And his friend Ritchie...

And yet, I had thought they were in Darjeeling! Craziness. I vaguely remembered that Ali had said they may head for Darjeeling on that day, as we were planning originally on staying in Calcutta a couple of days. However, with quite a few trains departing for Darjeeling that day, and from different stations, it was a huge coincidence that we would be on the same train... and not only the same train, as it turned out, but same set of berths! Ali was literally in the berth above me, and his friend diagonal (Aleko was below. I will include an in-depth seating chart, if you should so wish).

Also in our "cabin" (if you can call the open lay out this) were an Argentinian couple - Santiago (cool name) and his girlfriend, who's name escapes me, but I can only imagine wasn't a capital city, or I would have remembered it. They were both very friendly, and talkative. Unfortunately for the near-delirious Aleko and myself, everyone was happy to be on board, and raring to get into conversation. It was great to finally hang out, but as I'm sure you can understand, we were not our best.

Finally bed, and I slept a little, with the rocking of the train.

I will not bore you further with my sleeping patterns... mainly because I still have a ways to go before my journal will be duly "updated" if I stay at this pace.

Friday morning and we were in New Jalpaiguri! Fantastic! We parted ways with everyone, as our onward plans did not align with anyone else - Ali and Ritchie wanted to take the famous "Toy Train" up (7 hours... not for the faint hearted), and Aleko and myself wanted to just get the hell up to Darjeeling as soon as humanly possibly so we could shower and sleep some more (or at least, I wanted to shower. I cannot speak for my stinky husband. I can only hope).

This has since been known to be Mistake Number One.

We followed friendly Indian guitarist kid, into a crowded auto rickshaw, having to buy 3 seats, as we are fatter than your average Indian (even though there are not actual seats - they just assume they can usually cram 10 people in where,4 would actually fit comfortably). A few miles later, and we arrived at the next town, where we were to get a jeep to Darjeeling. Only it was a super-claustrophobic jeep. Indians have no concept of personal space, and so we were assigned seating in the back of the jeep, along with 2 other men, in a very tight space, and no way to get out, should we need to.

I started hyperventilating, I am ashamed to say (I had my money on it being Aleko first). We had to be let out, like pampered westerners. This was pretty unfair, as we'd purchased another seat. And were also probably being overcharged for being white (it pisses me hysterical we get over supposed racism in the west, when some of these countries are the most unashamedly racist I have encountered!). However, we were now assigned another jeep, and the front seats. This was marginally better, although we again had to wait for the taxi to fill up (11 people). And my leg was right where the gear stick was, so I kept having it rammed against my leg for 3 hours. Fantastic.

I won't go into too much detail about the tedium of the trip, but where it wasn't tedious, it was frightening (or would have been for me, had I not taken part of a xanax beforehand). Our driver was navigating pot-holed mountain edge roads, with one hand on the wheel, and the other flicking through his MP3 collection (Justin Bieber featured - can you believe it!?!). At one point our driver parked up on a hill, and got out to do something (no idea what). We were sitting patiently along with the other customers, when we heard a "click" and the car started to roll backwards.

Oh Crap.

A few of us squealed, and me, being the closest to the drivers seat, was instructed to "put your foot on the brake!!!". Not being a manual driver, I hadn't a clue which it was, but fortunately jammed my foot on the appropriate pedal, before we rolled backward, off a cliff.

Thank you, thank you, I am indeed worthy of your applause.

And so, after saving many lives, and not even breaking a solitary nail, I resumed the trip, along with the other not-so-brave people.

Let me not downplay the beauty of West Bengal. Actually, this region of West Bengal is fighting for it's independence. They want to be their own state - Gorkaland (if you're going to name yourself, you may as well make it catchy) - this fact is painted all over Darjeeling and beyond. The people do, however, seem to resemble the Nepalese more than the Indians... even down to their hats. It's fascinating.

Well, we arrived, FINALLY, with very sore bottoms, and vowing to get the train on the way back.

Darjeeling is not very much of a town. A smattering (is that a word?) or souvenir shops, and cafes, some stalls... and obviously, hotels. We researched where all the budget ones were, and ended up spending the first night in a complete hovel.

It appears I now have standards.

To be fair, the sheets were wet and dusty. Not a winning combination.

The following day we changed hotels, and met up with the guys, to explore the botanical garden. It was not exactly inspiring, but was fun, nonetheless. We then ate food and reminisced (or at least Ali and I did, and told some stories to the others), and discussed various important topics. It appears that Ali and Ritchie are avid cricket followers, so India suits them very well.

At some point, we decided to book a jeep for the following day to the famous Tiger Hill, where on a clear day, you can view Everest (I like to be familiar with my mountains). You can always view Kinchenjunga, however, which is far closer, and the world's 3rd largest mountain.

3.30am the next morning, and Aleko and myself are dragging each other out of bed, and tip toeing down the street, to wait for our ride. We heard the supposedly savage dogs (the town has a curfew due to the hundreds of dogs that roam the streets, turning psychotic at nightime - during the day, they sleep and look innocent), and hoped we would be collected soon. Fortunately the driver was there, and we went on to pick up the other boys.

On to Tiger Hill, and we joined the stream of steady traffic that was also making its way up there. This is a very popular point for tourists to watch the sunrise. Once there, we bought hot coffee, and found a spot to view the mountain from. The mists cleared, gradually, as the sun rose, and Mt Kinchenjunga began to gleam. It was truly breathtaking - my photos would not do it justice. Both Ali and Ritchie have far nicer cameras, and so were able to focus clearly on the mountain, whereas I was not. We shivered, as we waited for the mist to clear enough for Everest to come into view... which apparently it did, only I have crappy eyesight. Either that, or it was a case of the Emperor's New Clothes ('Wait... that little peak... yes! I can see it, I can see it!" Me - "where should I be looking?!!!").

Fully mountained-out, we headed back for naps, before meeting up again, for breakfast at a Tibetan restaurant. Some momos and lemon-ginger tea later, we walked down to the train station to catch the toy train. It turned out Ali and Ritchie had not got the train up here, but a jeep, as there had been a landslide, that had not yet been cleared. This, however, did not stop us being able to go about half way down to Kurzeon, to view an organic tea plantation.

So much fun!

For about the first 10 minutes.

Going about 12 miles an hour for 3 hours, gets old pretty quickly, let me tell you - especially when you realize they don't ever clean the trains, and they are infested with spiders. We also had to contend with old Indian men interjecting our conversation with "Where you from? That your brother?", and then nodding and laughing along with us, as if he knew what we were saying, when we were discussing a friend of a friend.

Marvellous.

Once in Kurzeon (3 hours later), we got a taxi to the plantation. Closed. Oh well... we decided to look amongst ourselves, and were given a brief talk about the tea, by a worker, who happened to be there. We tried some tea... it was pleasant.

We had planned to get the jeep back to Darjeeling, as another 3 hours on the train would be a bit too much, only we didn't count on being ripped off. We really should have! So... back on the train, with standing tickets (7 rupees each - bargain!), only.. what's this? People are randomly jumping on, after each station, and then jumping off right before the next station, only to jump on again after.

Ticket evaders...

Believe me, this is not a time for me to get self-righteous, being that I evaded a few train fares in my youth, but... 7 rupees? And then ruining it for all the tourists (it is a tourist train, hardly being worthwhile as any other means of transport), by making the ride claustrophobic.

We caught on pretty quick, when our space was being invaded. It got a bit ugly, with some Indian chavs in Kappa jackets. We were getting rammed against each other, and for 3 hours, that's not pleasant. And so... Ali, Ritchie and Aleko (myself, playing my newly adopted role of respectful wife), started to tell everyone without a ticket to get off.... even pushing against the ones trying to jump in, so that they had to hang on the outside.

It was a bit stressful, to be honest. It's weird for it to be other people doing these things, now that I'm a wife, and not supposed to do things like lose my temper and hit people.

It was the same story station after station. It was irritating, as it's such a small fare (especially for people wearing the latest indian fashion and having the latest mobile phone), and was unfair for those paying for a pleasant ride. Finally the station master said we could lock the doors from the inside. At Ghoom (the station an hour from Darjeeling) we became fed up, and got a ride from a jeep instead.

I would have gone into more detail, only I have to meet people, shortly, and have spend ages on this computer. Today, we have just relaxed. Aleko and I are now meeting Ali and Ritchie, as we are buying tickets for Thursday, for Varanasi. Ritchie will go back to Calcutta, to fly home, and Ali has another week, so will come with us. Tomorrow, they are moving on to another part of the hills, while we stay behind.

Darjeeling is pleasant, this morning we went for a walk, and witnessed a group of monkeys, mainly baby monkeys, swinging through the trees, play-fighting with each other. I took a short video clip. Aleko has been excited to see real live monkeys, and says India blows Thailand out of the water. I'm hardly surprised. India is crazy!

Well, I'd better go for now, but will try to write more soon.

My love to you all. xx

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