A Typical Travel Day in India

If you are looking for information, and ask 4 different people the same question, you will get 4 different answers. Welcome to India!

My new Israeli friend, Yuval and I had decided to travel to Rishikesh together. I went to the tourist place in MacLeod Ganj to reserve us a couple sleepers on the night train from Chakki Bank to Rishikesh on Wednesday night. Our plan was to take the local bus from MacLeod to Chakki sometime in the afternoon on Wednesday.

I rocked up late to meet Yuval at the bus station to find that him and 3 other girls were clammoring into a cab-van because the time we were told for the bus was actually from Dharamsala (15 minutes down the hill) not Macleod. Upon arrival at the bus stand in Dharamsala, we approached 2 uniformed men that were sitting at the information table to ask whether the 3:40 bus to Chakki Bank was running. One man nodded and the other shook his head. Due to the monsoon, mudslides are an everyday occurence and buses are often incapable of crossing them, so people just get out and walk across the mud and get on another bus on the other side! (We were unaware of this at the time) One of the un-informed, uniformed men suggested we take a jeep-taxi just to be on the safe side. At this point, it's best to hear all the answers and just go with the one that you like best. We liked the taxi idea and considering there was 5 of us, it wouldn't put too big of a dent in the budget and it was the most sure-fire way we'd make our train at Chakki Bank.

Upon arrival 3 hours later at Chakki Bank train station, we were told that all trains had been cancelled from this station because about 100km North, someone blew up the track. Right, of course they did. Being stared at by every Indian in the station, we waited for 40min in the massive line trying to get our refund, combining our naive brain power with other tourists to figure out what other options we had. The thread continued to unravel as we were told that we couldn't get a refund, only our booking agent could. Well our booking agent was back in MacLeod and he would also be keeping half the refund due to the service charge. I personally think throwing money out of a moving car would be more fun!

Yuval, the 3 Israeli girls, another Amercian girl who hitched onto us and I decided to take a rikshaw (6 people and all our bags) to Pathankot, the next town over to try and catch a bus. It was now around 7pm and the public bus to Dehra Dun (somewhere in the right direction) was at 11:30pm. The 3 Israelis bailed and headed to Ladakh....And then there were 3. As we sat in the bus station restaurant, chatting and eating, I decided to pull out Yuval's guitar. Bad idea. We were barraged by about 15 twenty-two year old Indian boys who thought we were the greatest thing next to garlic-cheese naan and proceed to individually introduce themselves and shake each of our hands many more times than once, and ask us over and over our "good" names were, what country we were from, our profession and whether or not we were married (for future reference, I'm a married lawyer. It keeps things simple). When the bus finally did arrive, we discovered that there was only one seat left. But we were welcome to stand.... for 12 hours! Right.

Next plan was to hoof it over to the train station in Pathankot and see what options we had there. After inquiring with the non-english speaking clerk at the "Inquiry" booth we were helped by a random man who suggested we take a train to Amritsar, Punjab and then catch the train in the AM to Haridwar. Ok....done and done. So we caught the train at 1:30am to Amritsar and arrived there at 4am. We had 3 hours to kill until the 7am train to Haridwar and because Yuval and Rachel had already been there, they suggested I take a bicycle rickshaw to the Golden Temple. It was beautiful and it was packed with people doing their morning rituals of taking baths in the holy water, praying, chanting, circumambulating, meditating and staring at the white girl with the headscarf that's trying to fit in! Sleeping at the temple is free and tourists actually get a private room, whereas the Indians just bunk up somewhere on the floor of the public rooms.

So after that little spiritual tangent, we boarded the 7 hour train for Haridwar at 7am. We all managed to score 3 seats each to lie down on and I think I slept and sweated pretty much the whole way.(Oh and for all you devoted blog readers, I think I caught a cold from that horrific day on Triund the other day.....who gets a cold in India in August?!) Rachel, the American girl was fortunate enough to have the front row of seats in the middle of the train that faced the other front row in the middle of the train where 3 middle-aged Indian men were sitting. I couldn't help but giggle to myslef when I glanced over to see them staring at her as she slept with her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. Here in India there is no shame in being caught staring, they watch you with mindless thought much like we watch a sitcom re-run. When we arrived in Haridwar, we managed to quickly jump the next train to Rishikesh for 5rupees each in general class. This obviously led to more staring with added wonder as to why we were sitting in general class. But lo and behold, after 26 hours of travelling, we made it....Yogaville!

So that's your standard travel day in India. Having said that, I suggest that if you have any plans for India you drop them because other than your arrival and departure date, there's not a heck of a lot you can plan, but that's the beauty of it...she has her plans of her own for you ;)