Crazy in Kolkutta

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Where did we leave you? Somewhere after we'd arrived in Darjeeling i believe...
As we may or may not have made you aware Darjeeling was an escape from the heat and madness of real India - to the extent that the people there do not really consider themselves to be Indian - they are Gourkas and a sign on every shop, shack and van will remind you of this. We needed a break after the stress of travel, the culture shock, and death of Alice's grandfather had knocked us out. We were physically and emotionally exhausted and needed some quiet time.
We had just that in the scheme of India Darjeeling is a quiet english pastoral village. High in the steps of the Himalayas it is warm during the day (like England on a pleasant summer's afternoon) and cold at night. The people are friendly and good natured and there seems to be less of the prevading poverty and caste issues prevalant in the rest of the country.
We spent a few quiet days there with little to report - unfortunately we were unable to see the beautiful views the area is famous for due to continual cloud cover, but the local mountain, whose name escapes me shone through on occasion.
After feeling that we have regained our strength and able to deal with India proper we traveled down the mountain-side and to Kolkutta, which we had passed through on the way up. Even though we felt re-energised and were prepared for our return to be difficult we were in for a shock.
The first half of our jeep ride to the train station was uneventful, the driver threading his was along hair-pin bends through the cloud. As soon as the road straightened he transformed into the most agressive and dangerous driver either of us have ever seen-to the extent he ran over and killed a young dog playing in the road rather than slow. It was quite a traumatic experience, coupled with the unpleasantness of the train station we arrived at (large numbers of very persistent beggars) and the chaos of Kolkutta stressed Alice to the point of breaking and the 37 degree heat did not help. We even saw a dead man lying in a bundle in the gutter on a road (as well as dead dogs and goats, which are much more prevalent than the infamous cows who wander through the streets).
It is fair to say we were down-hearted, especially on the day of Alice's grandfather's funeral - made worse by Alice's cold and runny nose. But since then we have slowly and steadily improved. We have seen the monuments and famous graveyards, the churches and stoopas. We are forming a habit of siestas to avoid the worst of the sun and beginning to cope with the city.
I wish i could tape the sounds, the horns beeping, the shouting in Bengali, the cries from beggars, the car horns, the shouting from shop keepers for your attention, the car horns, the car horns, the car horns.
Tomorrow we take the night train to Puri, a sea-side town where we hope to cool down, and from there to the mountains of the south. Its been a difficult and chaotic few weeks but we are beginning to get into the stride of things and accept India for what it is. Our movements in the next few weeks will be pushed along by the heat, but we shall deal with those problems as we come to them...

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