Extracted
myself from my Varanasi hotel at 7.30pm by taxi
for the railway station, but not before a an hour of crisis---sitting
quietly in the hotel lobby reading my book, close to where I had parked my two
bags in the secured area. Noticed that my hand baggage was not in
evidence—reception indicated that it had been
 |
| Diwalli, festival of lights--celebrating prosperity. |
likely picked up in error with
the baggage of a tour group being transported to the airport. HELP!---My India
rail pass (not money, passport) were in that bag. A tense hour followed—bag miraculously
retrieved and returned to me at the hotel. Major relief –I had been feverishly
waiting & trying to mentally construct travel Plan B. Rail travel in India
is a nightmare for those who do not have confirmed reservations especially at a
major festive season like Diwalli.
My
overnight train to Siliguri,‘The Rajhani Express, was an hour late rolling into
platform #2, but I was able to gain a small measure of tranquillity in the
“upper class only” station waiting-room for the three hour wait. None of us
residents of said ‘posh’ waiting room—stinks of urine, looked particularly
‘upper class’ in the stifling heat and squalor, but at least it was shelter
from the persistent & omnipresent beggars & homeless, that call railway
stations ‘home’ in India. As the only white tourist guy that travels by Indian
train in these parts (except for a few hippy types), I find that I am a target
for the attentions of the station dwelling
 |
| Street decorations on Siliguri's main street.... |
homeless. Have lost my earlier
reticence at shooing them away—India, home to millions & millions of these
destitute people wandering the streets. To hand any individual money might risk getting
quickly mobbed. Avoid eye contact and keep on walking is my current tactic.
This afternoon I plan to explore tomorrow’s transportation stage being the local shared taxi options from
Siliguri, for the 85km, 4 hour haul up into the mountains to Darjeeling.
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