The night we decided to stowaway on an Indian train...

Who needs personal space when you're having this much fun?

I have written a very ANGRY blog about the crappy time we had at Kanha National Park and our conman of a guest house owner (Dinesh at Motel Chandan - never go there) but I've decided, as it's Christmastime, I'll put that anger to one side (only for now though, Dinish, if you're reading this) and spread a bit of festive cheer.

So, after a disastrous time in Kanha we were booked onto an overnight train from Nagpur to Hyderabad in order to get to Hampi in time for Christmas. Or so we thought.

When we got to Nagpur, we realised our tickets were waitlisted 2 and 3. The Indian train ticketing system is very complicated but this basically meant we were in reserve or we'd be "taken of the subs bench" if people didn't turn up. Normally waitlisted 2 and 3 would be okay but it turned out that all buses from Nagpur to Hyderabad were cancelled, although no one could explain why, which meant the train was extra busy.

At the station we encountered our first of many Indian knights in shining armour in the form of a ticket conductor who spent about 40 minutes going from one part of the train station to another trying to pull in favours to get us on the train. For this, he didn't ask us for even one rupee and seemed like he'd just made it his mission to get the weary looking foreigners on the only train out of Nagpur to Hyderabad that day.

This proved fruitless as the train was already overbooked, so he let us into an Indian secret. He told us to just buy a very cheap "general" ticket which has no seat number but allows you to board the train, he then told us to hang around at the end of the carriage until the conductor came and try and bribe him to find an empty bed or seat for the night.

That's when Luke and I decided to become stowaways with the risk of standing for an entire 13-hour overnight train journey.

We got on and hung around the already quite fragrant toilets and waited for the conductor. We were on a run of bad luck and this continued when it turned out our conductor was not for bribing (possibly the only man in India) and he kicked us off the posh AC2 class part of the train and told us we had to stand in sleeper class.

Sleeper is where the everyday Indians travel, so they're not super rich or super poor, but somewhere in between. When we got there is was quite obvious that there were no spare beds in sleeper, but a group of kind students offered to bunch up and let us sit down with them until they decided to put their beds down and go to sleep.

We imposed on the students for nearly four hours and found out they were all 21 years old and studying science at university in Bangalore. Considering we were foreigners, who admitted we didn't have valid tickets, they were so accommodating in letting us sit down and almost seemed pleased to have some unusual company, even if we were taking up nearly half of their room with our big backpacks.

When they decided to put their beds down and go to sleep, we found ourselves homeless once again and headed back to the dreaded Toilet Zone.We were only there a matter of minutes when a large group of Muslim men moved up to let us sit down. They were from Hyderabad (which has a large concentration of Muslims) but had been on a spiritual tour of India. They offered us chai and chatted to us, first asking the usual questions we get asked ten times a day:

"Where are you from?" "How old are you?" "Are you married?" (The latter is extra embarrassing when people are super religious.)

But then one of them went in for the kill with: "What do you think of the burka?"

Luke stayed silent but I diplomatically said that I didn't agree with it as I think it oppresses women and stops them from getting a good job, to which he replied:

"We think a woman is diamond and should be covered with cloth. Who needs a job when you have faith?"

Hmmm, thankfully it was left at that but I think we agreed to disagree. I very much appreciated his kind offer of a seat though.

When the Muslim men went to bed, we went back to the Toilet Zone which, after a good few hours, was at optimum stinkiness. That's when we met a lovely man who also didn't have a ticket but needed to get a flight the next day so was also a stowaway. He told us the reason all of the buses were cancelled from Nagpur to Hyderabad was because there'd been a fire on a bus two weeks previously and the authorities had reacted by cancelling all buses of that route - a bit of India logic there for you.

We found out he'd spent three years studying business at university in Leeds, so spoke immaculate English, and now works for his family business which produces cloth and munitions (strange mix, I know) and, by the way he was dressed, obviously had  a lot of money - but no amount of rupees was getting us a seat or bed on this train.

Leeds Uni Man took us under his wing and decided to go down the train and find us a seat. It turns out that, in sleeper class, people will often let you perch on the end of their bed while they sleep. That's the beauty of a country with no concept of personal space - it can be overbearing but, when you need it most, they don't mind sharing their space.

After a short search, he came back to us with the news that three of the students were happy for us to perch of their beds for the night. By this time it was nearly midnight and most people were snoring away on their beds - torture when you know you're going to be sat up all night.

Within five minutes of us being there, the student whose bed I was sitting on sat up and asked as the usual "Where are you from?""How old are you?""Are you married?" And then hunkered back down into bed. Then, after a quick whispered conversation with his friend in the bunk above, he offered me his bed for the night and said they'd share. I insisted he couldn't but before I could say anything he'd left his bed empty for me and jumped in with his friend.

I still can't believe a stranger offered a foreigner, who hadn't bought a valid ticket, his bed for the night. I'm not sure that would that ever happen in the UK. So, Luke and I topped and tailed for the last five hours of the train journey.

Once in Hyderabad normal service resumed - the tuk-tuk driver ripped us off, the hotel was overpriced, dirty and the staff were surly - but that lovely young Indian man, who gave up his bed, restored my faith in India and its people.

Romantic Udaipur

It’s said to be one of India’s most romantic cities and, after simultaneously suffering from Delhi belly in Pushkar, Luke and I needed some romance in our lives.

We stayed in the old city which has steps going down to a lake (known as a ghat in India) where there’s a beautiful floating palace that has been turned into a posh hotel. You may recognise it from the James Bond film Octopussy or The Exotic Marigold Hotel – one of the local tailors had a picture in his window of him with Dame Judi Dench which he was very proud of.

Me enjoying a lassi and some pakoras with Jagniwas Island, or the floating hotel, in the background.

The ghat looks dirty but many of the locals still go there to wash their clothes which they saturate with soap and then beat to death on the rocks. They also get naked (or at least down to their underwear) and wash themselves in it. I’m not really clear on India’s stance on nudity because I’ve been told to “cover your shoulders and legs” which I don’t mind doing but, when they get to a ghat, there’s boobs galore. Ah well, life is full of hypocrisies, especially in India.

Washing drying next to the ghat.

Probably the most romantic thing we did while there was go up to Monsoon Palace and watch the sunset which was extremely beautiful. The palace itself isn’t very impressive but the view at sunset is perfect.

And here's the beautiful view.

We spent a lot of our time relaxing and spent far too much time in Edelweiss coffee shop drinking tea and eating chocolate cake. To counterbalance this laziness we spent an afternoon doing a traditional Indian art class. Luke (who’s clearly got a better grasp of art than me) tackled a tiger and I drew a big fat elephant.

In Udaipur it pays to go to the other side of the lake away from the old town - we found a local artist called Lockey who only charged 50 rps (50p) per hour for his classes whereas Namaste Cafe charged 150 rps (£1.50).

To carry on with the culture, we went to watch a show of traditional dancing and entertainment at Bagore-Ki-Haveli which involved some pretty dances and some eccentric moments including a fantastic puppet show, which reminded me a bit of Punch and Judy, and a 70-year-old woman dancing with 12 bowls on her head. As our guest house owner said: "She’s very nimble for her age."

Crazy bowl lady - after this she added six more.

Our journey away from Udaipur back to Jaipur meant another sleeper train which can be hit or miss. Sometimes they’re glorious – friendly Indian families who smile at you – but sometimes they can be frustrating. On a recent one Luke, who was feeling ill, had a group of Indian ‘Lads on Tour’ below him who were drinking whiskey and talking VERY LOUDLY until gone midnight. At one point I poked my head through the curtain and told them to be quiet and turn the light off. They turned the light off but carried on giggling like children.

The attitude of men in India is causing me a few problems at the moment. Initially I decided to be quite submissive as it was easier to just let Luke deal with everything... that lasted about a week and I think I’ve blown! It's just not in my nature to be submissive.

Not all, but some, Indian men completely frustrate me. It’s not just the spitting, snorting, hocking up phlegm, weeing in the street and extreme amount of loud burping (although that’s obviously both annoying and disgusting) but the complete chauvinistic attitude shown by some of them. Quite often when I try to negotiate a price or say “no” to something they look at me like they can smell a fart and then get quite narked, whereas if Luke does the same it's all a bit of a fun game. 

It seems women aren’t allowed to express and opinion or show a man up. When I get really mad I just have to remind myself that India is a bit like 1950s Britain and things will change – and it’s not a one-woman crusade that I need to do alone in my nine weeks here!

More things we’ve learnt:

1. In India, someone will always be sat in your allotted train seat.

2. Cows can walk up stairs. Who knew?

USEFUL INFORMATION ABOUT UDAIPUR:

Accomodation: We stayed at Harsh Vilas in the old city near Gangaur Ghat. It’s clean and basic with no decent view but only cost 500 rps per night, harshvilas@hotmail.com.

Food: Cafe Edelweiss, 73 Gangaur Ghat is great for cakes and breakfast, while Jheel’s Roof Top Restaurant, 52-56 Gangaur Ghat, has a great view, tasty cheap food and the smiliest owner you’ll ever meet.

Getting there and away: We took the train from Ajmer (a 30-minute bus trip from Pushkar) which took around 4 hours. We left for Jaipur on a night train which took 8 hours.

Jaipur, Pushkar... and Delhi belly

After a hectic few days in Delhi and Agra, it was a relief to spend four days in Jaipur – also known as the Pink City, after the whole town was painted pink when the then Prince Charles visited in 1876.

Possibly the best thing about our stay in Jaipur was Rajputana Guest House, owned by the Singh family. With all the dishonesty from tuk tuk drivers, salesmen and touts, India can be a frustrating place but, as Luke joked, the guest house owner, KP Singh, is “the only honest man in India”. I’m sure this isn’t true but he’s the only honest one we’ve come across on the tourist trail.

Rajputana is the Singh family home which has been transformed into a pretty homestay/guest house with clean sheets, lots of lovely roof terraces overlooking Jaipur and beautiful meals which KP (who trained as a hotel chef) cooks himself. When we arrived we managed to demolish two big bowls of his tasty dhal in about ten minutes.

Home cooked food at Rajputana Guest House. Here with have mutter paneer and masala potatoes.

KP gave us advice on where to catch local buses (which cost 12 rupees, so 12p, each way, in comparison to 600 rupees, so £6, for a tuk tuk for the day). This kind of knowledge not only means we’re saving money but we’re also meeting “real people”. It causes much excitement when we get on the bus - the other day an old lady tried to give up her seat for me which was pretty embarrassing. 

We also had nice evenings at the guest house chewing the fat (while drinking rum) with KP - I think he and Luke became good buddies.

 

Jaipur has got so many beautiful sights it’s hard to sum them up – in the old town we enjoyed seeing the “honeycomb” Hawa Mahal but the most impressive attraction was Amber, a fort palace from 1592 which I think you’ll agree is pretty beautiful. We bought a combined ticket for 600rps (£6) each which got us into all of the main attractions – apart from the City Palace which was 200rps (£2) extra.

Amber fort/palace in Jaipur, India.

There was also a great selection of cute monkeys to see – including baby ones. There were a lot of (stupid) tourists there trying to get really close and even antagonise the monkeys but we stayed back and still got some great photos.

Mum and baby monkey.

Tiny monkey.

Little monkey licking ketchup off a plate he'd found in the bin.

While in Jaipur we went to see a Bollywood film at the famous Raj Mandir, India’s number one Hindi cinema. The only thing on was Bullet Raja, a shoot ‘em up with beefcake Saif Ali Khan as its star. I was amused to see that any female role which involved being a bit promiscuous was played by a western woman – a bit of racial stereotyping there I think!

After Jaipur we headed to the holy town of Pushkar which is where we are now. Unfortunately this coincided with us being struck down with the dreaded Delhi belly and we’ve spent most of our time here in bed (or on the throne, if you like). It’s a shame as Pushkar is different to anywhere we’ve been so far – much smaller and less congested – but we haven’t really been able to appreciate it.

On our brief walks into the town, we’ve seen that Pushkar is a place where cows rule – they’re everywhere and so are their cow pats! Other than that, it’s quite tourist friendly but the usual tricks are played – here it involves people pushing petals into your hands and then, when you’ve thrown it onto the lake, charging you money. Although we avoided this scam, we did get followed by a man for about 30 minutes – we slowed down, quickened our pace and changed direction a few times but he kept on our tail... it was strange a bit scary but eventually he disappeared, so I guess we’ll never know what he wanted.

Despite our illness, here are some pretty photos of Pushkar that we took at sunset...

Tomorrow it's on to Udaipur which is said to be India's most romantic city - let's just hope the Delhi belly subsides so we can enjoy it.

More things we've learnt:

1. In India, a moustache signifies a trustworthy gentleman.

2. Delhi belly is neither fun nor exciting... or as humorous as it sounds.

3. People are more likely to give up a bus seat to a young western girl than an old Indian woman.

4. Indian weddings are much better than British ones. Look how handsome the groom is and he's on a horse!

Wedding in Pushkar, India.

5. Women work on building sites - even while wearing pretty saris. See.

Women's lib in action on a building site in Puskar, India.

Delhi & the Taj Mahal

Landing in Delhi was always going to be a baptism of fire and it didn't disappoint.

Our hotel was in the Pahaganj area of the city, next to New Delhi train station, where we got our first taste of Indian life. As soon as we stepped into the train station you could almost hear a collective intake of breath from the touts who saw fresh blood to con. Soon enough all of the excuses in the world came up as to why we couldn’t buy tickets there...

“Today is a public holiday so you must go to another station in a tuk tuk.”

“Foreigners can’t buy tickets here – they must go to another part of town.” (Again, in a tuk tuk)

“Tickets for that day have sold out because it’s a public holiday but my friend can take you there in a car.”

And so it went on. We were confused and suffering from jet lag so we made a quick exit, leaving a flurry of excitable touts behind us. We didn’t even make it to the official ticket desk.

Now we’ve been here nearly a week, we’re getting wise to the cons and better at bartering. I had to have a stern word with Luke (I know, poor Luke) as he was leaving it to me and the men didn’t take too kindly to being told what to do by a woman (imagine!). In the six days we’ve been here Luke’s gone from agreeing to the first price to bartering over 10p. That’s my boy!

Delhi itself was as expected. Very big, extremely dirty and ridiculously congested – we went on a day trip in a taxi and spent most of it sat in traffic. However, the Ghandi Smriti memorial, which is situated in the place where he died, was interesting and Humayan’s Tomb was impressive and provided peace from the big city. Our Nepalese driver took us to a Sikh temple at sunset which was atmospheric with worshipers and singing. He also showed us an immense kitchen where they feed 10,000 people every day - all for free.

Luke and I at the Sikh temple in Delhi - the bandanas were compulsory.

Jet lag was driving me a bit mad in Delhi and it wasn’t helped by a very loud wedding which took place outside our hotel window until 1am. It was held in the street where they'd put a few bits of awning over and hired a VERY LOUD sound system.

The wedding outside our hotel window in Delhi.

At 6am on Tuesday morning we took the fast train the Agra to see the Taj Mahal. The train ride was fabulous – we got brought hot chai and a breakfast of veggie fish fingers and bread. The Indians do trains so much better than the Brits.

Agra itself isn’t an amazing city – there’s a lot of poverty and pollution – but at the centre of it all is the imposing Taj Mahal. We stayed at the Hotel Kamal (900rps/£9) near to South Gate which has a rooftop view of the Taj and having breakfast with it as a view was an amazing way to start the day.

Breakfast with the Taj Mahal at Hotel Kamal in Agra.

As we only had one day there, we hired a tuk tuk driver, Vikram, to take us around the sights and took in the Itimad-Um-Daulah (also known as Baby Taj) and impressive Agra Fort before heading to the main event before sunset.

Me and Luke at the Taj Mahal.

The Taj Mahal is epic in size and it’s difficult believe such a thing was built before we had modern machinery. It was a labour of love as it was built by Shah Jahan (although not personally, I’m sure) as a memorial to his wife Mumtaz Mhal who died giving birth to their 14^th child in 1631. He was later overthrown by his son who locked him in Agra Fort with the Taj as a view for the rest of his days.

Picking up the Taj Mahal (had to be done).

The Taj appears to change colour as the sun sets – going from a milky white to yellow – and is definitely a “must-see” at least once in a lifetime.

The Taj Mahal at sunset.

While there, we also witnessed a monkey having a mini breakdown (I think he was OK).

Relaxed Monkey, busy eating...

Head in hands...

Oh God, what the hell did I do last night?!

Things we’ve learnt so far:

1. In India, every day is Movember.

2. Squat toilets are kind of more practical than western toilets. They just need to be cleaner.

3. Road rules are overrated. If you see a space, whatever side of the road it may be, try and squeeze into it and then beep very loudly.

4. You can’t eat too much dhal.

5. The “nice place” that a tuk tuk driver wants to take you for lunch will always be priced three times more that it should be. Just say no.

6. Seeing monkeys every day is pretty cool.