Amritsar 15 June – 17 June
Being a month on the farm, I must
admit that indulging in the comforts of city life was appealing. As we were heading back to civilisation, I
still was unsure of where I would go to next.
The obvious choice was Manali and Kasol – both popular spots on the
tourist trail, and the easiest, as it was up further into the Himalayas, which was my
longer term goal.
However, what I had learnt in
India so far, was that touristy places = noise, hooters, too many people,
traffic, shops, people trying to sell you everything, overcrowding, and generally
everything that made me hate Rishikesh (see previous posts on feelings towards
Rishikesh). What also did not count in
its favour, was that June is the peak of summer holidays for India, schools are
closed, and all of India is moving north into the mountains to escape the
40-plus days everywhere else. Though, I
made up my mind to skip Manali when I read about the 6 hour traffic jams to get
into the city, and of 3,000-4,000 cars entering the city a day. I was comforted by the certainty that I was
sure to run into some mountains, Israelis, and trance music elsewhere in India
in the next few months.
So, where to next? My host suggested that if I wasn’t going
north, I could go west. It was over 40
degrees in Amritsar, so there shouldn’t be too many tourists, and there was a
direct train.
Well, I had heard much about
Indian trains, and Amritsar was on my to-do list, so I reconciled that I could handle a little
warmth. I reminded myself of my two
criteria for picking cities (no cold and no rain), and the decision on my new
destination was thus made.
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| Train station, Dehradun |
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| My train to Amritsar |
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| Sleeper class, Indian Railways |
However, as my decision to take a
train was made on the day I was to depart, and it should be noted that Indian
railways transports more people on trains daily than anywhere in the world, I
was not surprised that there were no reserved tickets left. I thus had two options, general class, which
apparently is not really an option for a nice middle class Jewish boy from the suburbs of Gallo Manor, or buy an unreserved ticket for sleeping
class (so really only one option).
This is a strange system, although
not surprising, as any logic is somewhat distorted over here. There are six beds in a sleeper-class train compartment,
and each have an allocated, reserved ticket.
Yet, they still sell more tickets for these carriages than there are sears. What this inevitably means is that there are
always people who have no seats, who are trying to get seats, from people who have
seats. So, without any specific seat, you
get on the train and sit. And when
someone kicks you out, you move. The
goal of this game is to move along, finding empty seats, until there are no more seats. Then, you rely on (hopefully) someone being
gracious enough to let you share a corner of the bed (when the seats become
beds at night), or you sit on the floor, or anywhere really you can find a
place. Not only does this suck for you,
but also for the people who actually prepared beforehand, and reserved seats.
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| Found an empty place for about two hours, before the owner of the seat claimed it |
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| My cabin mates the last (far less crowded) few hours of my journey |
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| Sleeper class, Indian Railways |
Nevertheless, my first train experience in India I think was as Indian as you can get. I sat first with a family that spoke no English, then found an empty bed for about 2 hours, and spent the next 7 on the floor between others on the floor, and beds on either side. The last few hours, once people started getting off at various stops, I had some comfort, and after one uncomfortable evening, arrived in Amritsar.
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| Made it, largely unscathed |
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