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.