In Transit

Our route out of the mountains of Himachal Pradesh and back down into Uttar Pradesh toward the city of Varanasi was a long one, so we chose to break it up a little. Our first stop was Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab state and a major railway connection point for travelers going in all directions. Our bus rolled in sometime around midnight, we found an insanely overpriced room (they called it a suite because there were two beds), agreed to the price (1300 rupees) because it was late and we were wrecked, and slept.

Oh, glorious sleep. How I love thee.

The next morning we awoke to a scrumptious continental breakfast in bed, complete with homemade blueberry muffins and a pot of organic darjeeling tea, courtesy of the hotel staff, who just so happened to be big fans of The Traveling Morans.

HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!

Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Man, that was funny! Ok seriously.

The next morning we awoke to lots of yelling in the street. We had the entire day to kill before our train left for Lucknow that evening, so we set off in search of the action.

There is  very little action in Chandigarh on Sundays, FYI.

Chandigarh was born as a planned city, built to replace Punjab state's old capital city which was lost to Pakistan after Partition. The streets are built along a large grid and neighborhoods are divided into something like 60 rectangular "sectors". I can understand how it all seemed like a good idea at the time (let's bring order to India!), but the result is oddly sterile . I'm glad we had just the one day.

Ok, onto the train ride... our first of many overnighters. We chose to buy sleeper beds in Class "2A", which isn't quite first class, but provides slightly cushioned flat vinyl beds with pillows, sheets, and blankets. It's a passable night's sleep, especially compared to overnight buses. The problem is the privacy... there really isn't any unless you know the three other passengers inside your curtained-off cubby. Anyone besides a group of four is better off securing a "side" sleeper bed parallel to the aisle (at least you've got your own curtain!). I'll take some pics next time.

On this particular train my three sleep-mates seemed harmless enough. That is, until about two hours into the twelve-hour trip when the very fat one started snoring. I'm telling you, this man sounded like he was choking to death. We're talking serious sleep apnea here. My earplugs were no match for him. All they did was isolate the noise. I started to panic a little.

Then he started farting.

In life, there are those moments every so often when you're forced to step back, ponder the situation, and ask yourself, "Who am I, and how did I get here?" This was one of those moments.

When we arrived in Lucknow the next morning, we had a hotel near the train station in mind, and planned on hopping on a cycle rickshaw for a few blocks to get there. Naturally, more than one cycle rickshaw driver wanted our money, and a small brawl ensued as each guy simultaneously blocked our path while trying to physically force us onto his ride. I was actually run over by a rickshaw wheel during the scuffle, which put me over the edge.

Once again, we were only in Lucknow for a day before getting back on the train toward Varanasi, and although I hadn't gotten much sleep on the train the night before, it was nice for once not to be rolling into a new city after dark.

After a lunch of masala dosas (my new favorite), Brendan took a rickshaw back to our hotel and I went on a wild goose chase for an internet cafe (in a country teeming with IT professionals, you'd think this would be a lot easier). On the way back, my own rickshaw driver got lost for a solid hour, after assuring me repeatedly that he knew exactly where my hotel was. We'd go in the wrong direction for a few minutes, I'd get nervous and tap him on the back, we'd consult the Lucknow city map in my guidebook, he'd pretend to understand, he'd turn around, stop in front of something resembling a landmark, seem confused when I didn't want to be dropped off there, and then flag down some random guy to try to make some sense of what I wanted. It was all very frustrating. Why don't rickshaw drivers know their own cities better? Don't they spend their days taxiing people around?

Feeling extremely fried after that debacle, I ordered room service and B and I stayed in for the rest of the night. We were kind of rethinking our decision to stop in both Chandigarh and Lucknow, instead of just taking a longer train straight to Varanasi sooner. It's overly ambitious to arrive in a new city exhausted, find a hotel, get some food, and then expect to go sight-seeing that same day. Especially in India.

In the morning, we got up, got out, and got on the train bound for Varanasi. What was supposed to be a five-hour journey turned into nine hours for no particular reason, once again securing our arrival well after sundown. Safe, sound, and starving.

Varanasi is one of those places everyone should see before they die. I'll tell you why next time.

Peace!

Sarah

Comments

[Zak - Dallas]

Your main home page at www.sarahlane.com appears to be broken/missing. I saw it this morning and thought it was temporary, but now it's the evening and it's still not working. I'm sure you already know about it though.

[Patty]

Sarah, I wanted to hear about your christmas, what happened? were you on that train I wonder? hhmmh?

Oh well, hope you had a good one.

Patty*

[Joseph]

Sarah, while I can't say I've ever been run over by a rickshaw, I do know what it feels like to reach your breaking point. I hope the rest of your India trip goes more smoothly. Your story reminded me of a joke about Cleveland, but it works just as well for Lucknow. "I spent a day in Lucknow once. You know what my favorite thing to do in Lucknow was? Pack up and get the hell out of there."

[Walter C.]

Cot damn it seems like India has been kicking your butt nonstop. Just hang in there kid and Happy New Year.

[Patty]

I read your other blog and found out about christmas, and though I spent it with my 2 kids, husband and sister with new hubby, I still miss my mom and christmas in Mexico, same as you.

Patty*

[Liana]

Ok your narrative of your lovely cabin buddy on the train has my sides hurting! Awww, I hope you don't have to endure anything like that in the future! :)