Rolfe and Rolf got up at 6AM to navigate the maze of streets to the station, where we booked our motorcycles onto the train as luggage, for roughly the same price ($13) as a single ticket. At first the freight office burocrats tried to tell us we were too late, then that the luggage compartment was too full to put TWO more motorcycles... but after insising as politely as possible, it turned out they just too lazy to deal with us. We booked the bikes on and made sure they actually loaded the bikes on the (completely empty!!!) luggage car.

At first this seemed like the nicest of all my Indian train trips: the carriage had no less than 13 interesting-looking travellers from all sorts of countries, and very few other people to deal with. It was a very relaxed atmosphere all day, during which a special guard came by asking us to sign a book saying that all was present and correct with our bags, and that nothing had been stolen. It seemed weird to do this at the beginning of a 24-hour train trip, but we signed away.

Milk Train:
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Boy on train:
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It was about then, that the thieves must have joined the train... People gradually were discovering they had been robbed. One English guy had his bag chained to his wrist as he took a nap. He woke to find his bag gone, including his video camera, and all the footage he had shot during a YEAR in India! A week before, his room had been broken into, and his diary stolen, with all his writings from his year long trip. He is having to deal with some difficult stuff!!!

Then a girl complained that her wallet had been stolen from her bag, which was tied to her waist at the time!

Then another guy realized his shoulder bag had been stolen.

As it got dark, more and more Indians joined the train, it became uncomfortably full and we discovered that our carriage had only a couple of lights which worked, none in the toilets, which were pitch dark, and that the fans were on the blink, too. When we went to sleep, we were eaten alive by SWARMS of mosquitos. It was really hellish, and falling asleep heightened further the probability of losing one's property.

When morning finally came, View image, View image, we were very happy to arrive in Haridwar (24 km from Rishikesh) and get off the Thievery Train from Hell.

Then we had to get our bikes back from Indian Rail: The Haridwar freight burocrats tried to explain that their Varanasi counterparts had under charged us for the bikes, and wanted us to pay the difference. They claimed that the prices had been raised at the beginning of the year. I knew this was not true, as I had already paid less than he was asking when I brought my bike nearly three times as far from Chennai to Delhi. He apologized for not having any paperwork to prove his claim, but insisted that we trust his good name, assuring us that we must pay the full price. I was tired, but "politely" insisted that we had already paid what was due, had a receipt, and would not even consider paying anything extra, unless he could show us official documentation supporting his claim. The discussion lasted half an hour, back and forth, and finally he gave up and let us take the bikes.

I have now come to realize that when an Indian assures me that he is trustworthy, and not ripping me off, and that he will give me a reciept, then unfortunately it probably/definitely trying to rip me off.