The longest journey in the World...

The longest journey in the world - 1.15pm Sunday 24th May - 4pm Tuesday 26th May

The following depicts probably the singularly loooongest journey undertaken by Carla in her nearly 30 years of life, encompassing: a rickshaw (30 mins), train (4 hours), bus (1 hour), rickshaw (10 mins), train (20 mins), train (17 hours), rickshaw (3 mins), train (13 hours), bus (4 hours) and another rickshaw (10 mins), stressed, cramped conditions but a truly authentic Indian exeprience so far from uneventful - trust me! We definately took a roundabout route, but thats because otherwise there was no availability for 3 ppl and for such a mammoth journey with two overnighters its best to have company. This is India....

The first leg of our ticket took us east (for those in the know, the opposite direction to Mumbai!) for 4 hours but as we were only on the 'waiting list' (which the travel agency failed to mention...) we had to sit on our bags in the area people embark and disembark and directly outside the smelly toilet so somewhat in a walkway! Officially we shouldn't actually have been on the train. And here is where the drama began, the journey time printed on the ticket was not accurate so we over-ran and missed our stop by 1 hour which had quite serious implications as the knock on effect would be missing other connections which over long distances and with no availability could seriously effect my itinary not to mention we seriously over paid for our tickets and went a longer route so we could leave when we did. We managed to find a guy at the station who told us we could get a bus to 'Gooty' and hopefully pick up our train to Mumbai from there, an earlier stop. Come 7pm we were floundering around, in the dark, in a very indian outpost (well, obviously, but you know what I mean it was not a tourist hotspot), the subject of so much curiosity that the local men were literally following us and flocking around us like mosquitos attracted to a light, and in their effort to 'help' we actually ended up missing our train because they simply would not let us get a taxi to Gooty as they were insistent there was a bus to Gooty with only 5 mins waiting time. It was the most infuriiating experience! - all these 'helpful' people not actually realising we would far rather pay the money for a taxi to leave straight away than wait for a bus which might mean we miss our trains to Mumbai and then again to Mount Uber. We're talking 2 nights in a row of sleeping on a train as well so its not like its small journeys you can get another train no problem. I was starting to get annoyed at them which I felt bad at but really, they wen't listening! I even got a rickshaw driver to agree to taking us in a moment of escape, for the flock to quickly re-gather and talk him out of it because there was a bus!! AAuuuuugggghhhhhhhhh! Really its infuriating because everywhere else they are trying to rip you off as rich white tourist, until the moment you actually wouldnt mind being ripped off if it means getting where you need ot go!

Anyway, as I feared we got to Gooty to be told the train had already gone and again being 'helpful' they would not sell us another ticket for general class to Mumbai just so we could get on the next train to Mumbvai which was leaving only 20 mins later, but we had to go to Gandagar to cancel our existing ticket. Again, I was trying to explain I didnt care about that ticket, put it in the bin ( I was miming!) throw it away! - I wanted new tickets. It was more important to pay a little extra now, have no sleep, but to still make our connection and be able to use the second leg of our ticket once we got to Mumbai. I was told to not be so excited the lady was trying to help me! These people dont understand it wasnt helping us it was potential causing a whole new set of problems when we had to cross half of India!!!

So, we got off at Gandagar, went to the enquiry desk as advised but nothing was officially cancelled or issued, we were just told to get on the next train with it which we had missed due to getting off at Gandagar (we were on the 9.10 train to Mumbai!!!), and so there we were stuck in the station for 6 hours until 3am for the next train. It was very painful! In the meantime we dozed but Alaina and I found some restrooms which we didnt realise existed, very cheap and it was too late for us to make use of them but we did cheekily use the toilet for free rather than pay for the public one! Another humerous time passer was the sheer amount of blokes surrounding us and all taking pictures with their mobile phones. I asked why all indian men took photos of white girls, english people are important to indians; was his reply. It really was like being a celebrity or something. It made us laugh anyway, because we're just normal people who happen to have lighter skin. To us we are nobody. But I suppose its the same as me taking photos of hill tribes people or women in sari's its not common to me and its exotic. Thats why I agree to be in their photos, as I take enough of them. But some girls refuse because they dont know in what context they will be referred to when the guys are showing their photos to others.

Getting on the 3am train was where the fun started, depending on your approach to crazy situations! There were no sleepers available, the general class was typically rammed with zero chance of getting into the carriage, and so the guard took us to the discabled cabin. At this point, I realised we were only being given this treatment because we were white, there's no chance an Indian would have been able to miss his train and get on an otherwise full train. Indians have to book like 2 weeks in advance and even we as tourists which a special amount of seats were reserved for which we had struggled to get a seat and been very lucky even to have found our roundabout route.

So the sight that greeted us was mothers and children head to toe, fabrics and colours and heads and limbs entangled and meshed into one colourful floor covering. Wearily they pointed us to the one square metre free situated....- you guessed it, by the toilet, where we dumped our bags and very awkwardly sat in the tightest of balls, bums slowly numbing and muscles slowly cramping and getting pins and needles. I had a potatoe sack poking into my left hip, duckys feet in my left but cheek, a wall ridge sticking into my right ribs, and my toes squashed by Alaina's leg. And this was a step up from general class...! Comfort is all relative - imagine standing for a 17 hour journey?!

I obersved how rough the adults were with the kids, although I did also witness a lot of affection also, they did think nothing of yanking, showing and pushing their or other peoples children. Sometimes it seemed there was a rotation system of sleeping floorspace. Whenever I witness such things, I realise how horrified such goings on would be in england and sleeping in such primitive conditions would almost be labelled as abuse. But is seems common here, at the stations adults and children alike lie out on the floor or any other surface to get a few hours of miniutes of sleep. You find yourself having to like it or lump it, there is no alternative. Dirtyness sort of pervades you, everywhere is liter litter litter, everywhere you gets wafts of toilet smell. There is no soap, and so my anticeptic gel had become my best friend. But its also what I love about India. Its real, theres nothing superficial about it, its like the salt of the earth. Theres a part of me that feels far more comfortable in such environments than clinically clean and perfect places. But dont get me wrong, I do miss them! And very appreciate me showers which I suppose is a luxury to many here.

At one point, taking our queue from the locals who seems too manage to lie down it spaces I would conceieve as humanly impossible, we wriggled and jostled into semi supine positions ourselves. And just as I may have miraculously drifted into a semi sleep, we got told (with hand glapping and gestures) to get up and move our bags. Fair enough, we thought, these guys are getting off and they need to get out the door. So hauling heavy rucksacks in limited spaces, we opened the door to realise they didnt want to get out at all but someone from teh next carriage was jut popping his head through to say hi! Very frustrating!!

When people did get out at a later stop, we moved our bags into the main room, and found another bit of floor space. At about 7am and still having not slept, I took the opportunity to climb one of the only two bunks alongside an India guy (its not uncommon here for 2 or 3 people to sleep on the same single bunk.) I was getting desperate! Luckily he actually got off at the next stop so for a blissful 2 hours I managed to fully stretch out and sort of doze, although now being offically morning there was a lot more noise. It didnt last long. I got joined by Ducky and an Indian, a and so it happened that from 7am until 7pm I stayed in that top cramped bunk with no wind motion, but still better off that the herd of people on the floor or reduced to standing. For this entire duration I needed the toilet, but fear and a realistic sense of the impossible made me stay there. There was simply nowhere to walk. People were rammed against each other than from my superior vantage point it was a mission doomed to failure Rumours also abounded that the toilet was broken, and then there was a lot of people standing in their with their bags. If that was the case there was nowhere for them to go and so I wasnt gonna squat in front of them all! There was only one thing for it. Hold it in. And dont drink. Hard in the increasing heat.

I didnt read until almost the last two hours of the journey which I thought was quite interesting. Admitedly I probably would have got a book out earlier had I been able to access it (people were sitting in and on and arround our bags) and had I an i-pod I probably would have used that too. But I think it was almost a good thing as I had time to contemplate the situation, and observe conversations and exchanges. I only wish I could understand Hindi! At one of the platforms, there was a fight for people to get into the carriage, and so the people inside had or fight to get themselves and their belongings out first. The raised, harsh voices and nasal like tone reminds me of Vietnam, and you get a sense that its every man for himself. There's not really many manners so maybe their behaviour isn't considered rude...if you know what I mean. It just seems rude to me, brought up in ultra polite england where one doesn't ever cause a scene, darling!

At one point, there was one lady obviously in distress.. The beautiful Indian lady next to me on the top bunk who spoke english, said it was her period. The poor thing, in such cramped conditions and on such a long journey had literally bled on the floor in front of the whole carriage and was crying in pain and probably shame. But here I saw a tender side to the locals, helping her to clear it up and comforting her. I later learned this lady was also 29, and with three children. We exchanged a conversation in her limited english and with the aid of another lady, dressed all in black, 23 years old who also had three children. We laughed a the fact I was nearly 30 with none. We realised we lived in diferent worlds. Her little boy who was also on the train, had taken a shine to me and kept beaming at me with the most cute smile imaginable. I cant remember how many times we waved at each other across tbe carriage, but later on as the carriage emptied and I eventually found my way to the toilet, he latched onto me and we sat together at the open door to the carriage with the wind in our faces, and he would point in glee every time he saw another train and I practiced English numbers with him.

Another guard came round just as we nearly at Mumbai. He walked off with our ticket which was also needed for the next train from Mumbai ro Mounth Uber. We had to get straight there, we didnt have time to faff about! What tranpsired, was like before he had no interest in our story (which was we missed our train, and following all instructions were told we could take it on the next train and we were directedi into discabled by the guard) all he could keep repeating was that the ticket want valid and we were on the wrong train, as though this were news to us!! He, so very kindly, said he wouldnt charge us, but we could 'give' whatever we wanted to 'give.' I was all up for walking out but Alaina handed over a 100 ruppee which really is nothing much between three of us, and he seemed contemt with this. My first bribe, which apparantly is common here. He still tried to rip us off later, 'helpeing' us with our tickets onto Bandrha wanting 100 ruppe for three when it was actually 18!.Apparantly everything works on bribes here, and it better to just pay it as they can make anything up and pretty much do anthing they want with you.

So we got on a train to Bandra for 6 ruppee, knowing we were cutting it fine but thinking we would just make our 9pm train until...! at nearly 8.55 we got told our train was from Bandra Terminuus a rickshaw ride away. The drivers, getting into the generaly spirit bombed us there and as we half scurried to our train which thank God was on platform 1, the train pulled away literally 5 seconds after we had, sweating and panting, put down our bags. Phew. Talk about a close call! Funnily enough, another girl, Anne from Germany also only just made it by the seat of her pants.

So, that journey seemed like absolute luxury in comparison to the previous night. Simply being able to lie in my own bunk was amazing, and because i was within reach of my bum bag and latop bagI had hidden under my bunk, I was not worried about theft and slept like a baby. Until the kid in my cariage played an anoying toy tune over and over and over and over again early in the morning. But Id got my vital 6 hours, probably more like 7 plus some doxing inbetween so it felt good.

A long bus ride ensued, slightly uncomfortably for me as a local sitting next to me got too close for copmfort, originally sitting close to me with his arms crossed and his right hand uncomfortably close to my right breast, and then later once I had asserted some room between us, aided by my trusty laptop, he tried to bridge the gap by 'teaching' me Hindi, putting his mouth close to mine so I could see his word formations. I became more and more blunt with him, not engaging in comversation and saying I needed to write my diary. Also putting both earpieces in my mouth so I can listen to my music! He has asked my age, insuated its a good age for him, asked me where I am staying, asked if I want to go and see the temples with him etc all which I have declined and now he seems to have gotten the hint but I dont think so!!

I am starting to use the harsher and blunt side of my own personality now, which sometimes comes across as really horrible, like when beggars appraoch you. There is no easy way to know how to deal with this. I am more than happy giving money to the needy and I do, but sometimes Im not sure if it helps, especially if the kids dont get to keep the money themselves. I think I will talk to some people about it and maybe get some small change for such situations. The problem is they follow you, and poke you. One kid kept continuously poking me after I said no about 20 times so I started to poke him back, not hard or anything, but just so he realised what he was doing was annoying. It kinda worked... he just kept saying 'hello' instead! I think one of the girls I was travelling with thought it was a bit out of order,. But that was kind of the point. Hounding and poking people ie me is out of order too!

ps that guy from earlier - I actually saw him unzipping my bum bag. I caught him in the act and he got all flustered and being the idiot I am I still gave him the benefit of the doubt when he started saying I should look after my money and hide the notes that were poking out of the front (but were actually Vietnamese!) Laughably, he also asserted not to pay a penny more than the amount of ruppees stamped on the bottles of drinks I bought, in a friendly gesture to make sure I wasnt being conned! How ironic. It really threw him being caught out though, he was all flustered. The only positive thing about it, was that he buggered off before I had the hassle of making excuses not to see him the next day or take his phone number of accept any help with accomodation. Honestly. You cant trust anyone. But the nerve of it, I was only looking away for a split second! And I had to put up with him the whole journey. Gggrrr. oh, and in a later conversation, before I shared my experience of his wandering hands, Anna volunteered that once he moved closer to her, his hand was also dangerously close to her breast and she felt uncomfortable. So it wasn't just my imagination. And she has had three times guys masturbating on public transport while looking at her. I'm starting to experience the stories I have heard from others. Its not much fun and Im glad I was travelling with other girls but I think I sensed it coming and avoided it thank goodness with the aid of my trustee netbook. Next time I shall me more obvious though. Im learning.

Being away always makes you appreciate your home comforts and nowhere more so than India but I am getting into the swing of things and I thnk confident enough now to go it alone.