Bringing it back II: Rishikesh

Grant and I traveled together from Dharamsala to Rishikesh, which was for the best as we screwed up along the way – we go on the wrong train! The ease with which we accomplished this made me wonder that I had not made the same mistake several times over on the many many other trains I took. A bit of description of the train situation in India is in order here I think.

First of all, there have been a few photos of the trains that I have not found opportunity to post - here are a few:

The final two are from the same spot on a smaller platform, the second showing a group of folks trying to get into the train from the off-platform side. These photos do not quite do justice to the more hectic moments, but hopefully they can create a bit of flavor for you. Some stations in major cities have clear signs and easy to read platform maps, but most do not, and in general they are giant. The bigger ones had 6 to 12 different platforms, connected by a periodic overpass, on which different trains were steadily coming and going. Finding the right platform was sometimes tricky - stations often had announcements about where the trains would alight, or the station would have signs with train numbers and platforms lined up (this was subject to change and often did).

The cities I traveled through would service trains on major routes; trains that might have 50 or 60 cars on them, each about 80 feet long (this adds up to 1/2 to 2/3 mile long trains). The trains typically spent about 5 minutes in the stations I loaded and unloaded from. This meant that boarding the train, finding the right car of the 40-60 that would pass, took some doing. Each class of car (Sleeper, AC 3 tier, AC 2 tier, AC FC, Second Sitting, etc) was numbered (S1, S2, S3 and so on), but it was impossible to guess where on the train the cars would line up. Or where on the platform the train would stop. To be fair, at most stations, boarding was pretty straightforward - we would see a sleeper car as it slowed down, walk to the right one and be right on - sometimes the nicer stations would have light signs indicating where each car would stop.

This all meant that most of the time, with some sharp looking, lots of carefully worded questions, and a bit of luck, getting on the train was easy enough. However, if any of these factors were confounded (the train switched platforms at the last minute, the cars (or the train itself) were not clearly labeled, or if the crush of travelers made moving around difficult, getting on (or off) a train could be an extremely tricky business.

An anecdote: someone struggling to get onto a 'second sitting train' (which means no assigned seats and plenty of ticket sales) for an overnight journey - every person for himself, the last ones on stand for the 6-12 hour journey. A crush of humanity trying to push and pull their way on the train while the passengers are trying to get off the train - this traveler standing with the throng notices an 'old woman' crawling between his legs to get onto the train before others.

Having seen similar scenes, I do not doubt this for a second. The sheer size of the trains (it's asking a lot to walk 1/2 mile in 5 minutes without being on a platform carrying luggage), the chaos of the stations, and the sometimes disorganized rail system caught up with Grant and I leaving a small station near Dharamsala to get to Rishikesh and we, having heard that our train was arriving soon, boarded the next one (on time, at the right platform) without checking the train number with the single train attendant. We had to fight our way on, our car was closed for some reason, and between climbing over luggage and pushing and being pushed, the train departed before we found our bunks, which were occupied. Everyone showed their tickets, and we discovered that we were on the wrong train. Luckily, we could hang tight for about two hours and wait for our train at the next station. The couple who had our bunk kindly gave us one of theirs to sit on (people were sleeping in the aisles of this one - literally NO space), and we found our train, triple checked, without any trouble.

SO - Rishikesh, yoga capitol of the world, home of the Maharaja of Beatles fame, tourist and yuppie heaven. We arrived relatively early and toured a few ashrams before finding pretty much everything full - there was an international yoga festival going on, so not only was it packed, but hotel rates were a bit higher than normal. We finally found a spot about 5 minutes from the main road and I crashed like a ton of bricks. I was running on fumes by this point, and had Grant not been with me, I'm not sure how long it would have taken me to find a spot to sleep. He actually looked around while I held down a spot of pavement in the shade. Anyway, we settled in and checked out the town.

Rishikesh is kind of divided into four parts, two villages on two sides of the Ganges river, both connected by walking bridges (frequented by motorbikes, cows and monkeys). We enjoyed the hippie vibe, met some cool folks, at some more solid food, and relaxed for my final two days in India. I didn't do much other than that really, I was scraping the barrel emotionally and physically and was ready for my train ride home. It was relaxing, the place felt more western and less Indian than the other places I'd been, which was welcome to me at that point. I felt a bit nostalgic for India while there, but I was certainly ready to go.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I felt different when I got into the airport - it really started when I got on the train in Haridwar (Rishikesh's yogic neighbor). I joined a Canadian (Matt maybe) and he and I watched 'Science of Sleep' and some good old US sitcoms until we arrived in Delhi. A quick cab to the airport, a four hour wait from 11PM to 3AM (spent in a hallway as I had neglected to print my boarding pass (NEVER AGAIN), and I was comfortably on my way to a quick transfer in Moscow and a simple bus ride to Corinne who was waiting for me in Stockholm. PHEW! Here are a few photos of Rishikesh - the bridge, some kids playing cricket (which was EVERYWHERE), and what I think was a restaurant mascot, a fellow I saw often but never quite figured out. Their website is here. There are neighboring restaurants with matching short fat men in make-up and crazy hair. It would be like a Denny's adjacent to a competing Denny's. With this guy sitting in a chair somehow enticing people to come in and eat. What? Anyway - the last photo is one of the bridge monkeys. At one point while Grant and I (featured on the bridge) were enjoying some tea and snacks near the water, we saw a monkey climb to the top of the cables and pee, attempting to, I assumed, shower the people below. Sadly for her, the upper cables angle and the wind were not in her favor. Thanks for reading!