Mumbai/Bangalore – From the ridiculous to the sublime
When I went to book my train ticket from Mumbai to Bangalore, I had planned to buy 3AC class. This means an air-conditioned sleeper berth, with three tiers. However, the guy at the counter told me this was full, and I either had my choice of non-AC sleeper (in with the multitudes), or 2AC sleeper – more expensive, AC, with two tiers per compartment. I looked down at my bruises from the bus, and unhesitatingly booked a more expensive 2AC ticket.
Even though the train journey was 24 hours, I wasn’t concerned. I’d experienced the train food to know that it was fairly decent (speaking as a European – see the entry on Agra if you don’t know what I’m talking about), I had a great big book to read, my ipod was fully charged, and I was looking forward to some peaceful ‘alone’ time.
I made it to the station unscathed by the rip-off taxi drivers, and was pleased to see my train waiting there on the platform. Arming myself with lots of water, I found my carriage, and the porter told me immediately which seat I was in. At first I was impressed by his psychic abilities, until I looked at the list of passengers that is pasted outside every carriage, and saw that I was the only westerner in my carriage, so it didn’t take too much deduction to work out who I was.
I had my lovely window seat in the compartment to myself for most of the journey, so I busied myself reading, listening to music and generally daydreaming. Despite asking for an upper berth, the ticket man had booked me a lower berth and, at about 9pm, I realised that as there was no-one else there, I was just going to get in an upper berth and argue the toss when the other passengers got on.
Just as I was dropping off to sleep, the lights went on, the curtains were opened, and about 20 men came in; one of them sat down, and the others kept bowing in front of him, saying what an honour it was to be in his presence. I lazily opened one eye, and asked if he wanted the upper berth but he kindly insisted I stay put. Most of the men left the train before it pulled out of the station, bowing and scraping their way outside. I was intrigued, I admit, but not enough to put me off my rest.
Eventually there were only two men left – the esteemed one, and another who seemed to jump to his every command. The esteemed one got up to go to the loo, at which point the assistant jumped up, and said to me in a very high, excited voice, “He is the minister. A minister. He is a minister.” “Oh”, I said, distinctly unimpressed (I have to admit, I was more impressed by the presence of Tessa Jowell at the cricket, and took great delight in explaining her recent difficulties to my Australian friends). “The finance minister. He is a minister”. He started to grab random people who were wandering through the carriage, “That man is the finance minister”. By now, he was starting to remind me of Sebastian off little Britain, the man whose love for the minister is so great it borders on obsession. He got quite annoyed with me because I wouldn’t get out of bed but I figured, hey, he’s the minister, but is he as famous as I am in Jaipur? I think not.
I managed to drop off to sleep ok, sung into dreamland by the music on my ipod. I’m actually starting to think it’s a bit psychic. When I’d first get on the bus in Udaipur (before I realised the true horror), we’d got out into the countryside and I was lying looking out of the window up at the sky, and it randomly played “Daytripper” followed by “Don’t fence me in”. Now, after I discovered this man’s identity, the first song that came on was “Taxman”. I had to stifle a giggle.
The next morning, he was very interested in me, in British politics, in my Lonely Planet book on India, and what I was doing in Bangalore. I showed him the address of the place I was going to, the place that would be my home for the next month, and he didn’t recognise it, so gave me his card and wrote his personal mobile number on it, saying “If you have any trouble here, you must let me know immediately”.
Pulling into Bangalore station, I showed my expertise by negotiating a low rate for an autorickshaw to bring me out to the house. It was the most lovely, reassuring feeling when, pulling up to the front door, one of the students here immediately checked that the amount I was paying the taxi driver was ok, and I wasn’t being ripped off.
It’s the most peaceful place I have been to in India, with beautiful gardens, restful rooms and, most importantly, the most friendly, welcoming people it’s possible to imagine. That night, as they gave me a garland round my neck, showed me a display they’d made wishing me a “Hearty Welcome to India”, and sang me a welcome song, I found it hard to believe I’d been here less than a day; rarely have I felt so much at home, so soon.
I don’t think I’ll be needing that mobile number.
Tags: India, Travel
Suzanne
Hi Suze,
Glad to see you arrived ok and that you’re staying at such a nice place. Presumably the man you saw on the train was Shri P. Chidambaram? Don’t worry, my knowledge of Indian politics isn’t that great, I had to google it. One thing does intrigue me though… if the finance minister is someone to make a song and dance about and he’s only travelling in 2AC… who gets to ride in 1AC? Presumably it’s reserved for the likes of Rahul Dravid, Sourav Ganguly and Sachin Tendulkar. And if you need to google any of those after your day at the cricket I’ll be ashamed!
I met up with mum over in Kirkby Lonsdale on Sunday. We had lunch at a nice little place on the market square and then had a nice afternoon wandering round the town and looking in the shops.
Hope to read more of your adventures soon.
Love you lots,
Michael
Hey Suzanne,
The new place you’re staying sounds amazing – I too am regularly greeted with a welcome song when I go places. Well actually it’s not so much a greeting song as a chorus of groans but I do think it’s rhythmical.
I can’t believe you’re already mixing with the upper echelons of Indian political society. It’s taken me many Labour Party conferences to shake the hand of John Prescott (and avoid his jab!). I think before you leave you should use his number and get something free…at least this one can afford it!
God Bless,
Elephant Apple (Snr). x
Hi Suze,
Having read of your chance meeting with the Finance Minister, I wonder if you might consider passing his contact details onto Dave when he meets up with you in Bangalore. I’m sure Dave will have a few hot tips for him on how to double his money. However, you should warn the Minister that he should disregard any advice which involves him placing large amounts of money on the “certainty” for this year’s Grand National.
As Michael has already mentioned, we did have a lovely day in Kirkby Lonsdale but we did miss you a lot (Michael doesn’t like pretending he’s an only child). Visiting this lovely town brought back so many memories of our caravan weekends and it was good to see the place is still as quaint as ever.
Missing you. Love you lots.
Mum
Hi Suzie: Good to read your recent instalment, and what an impressive train journey! I’m sure you must have impressed the Minister too!! So pleased that you got such a lovely welcome, and hope your stay will be happy. I wonder if Bangalore is ready for Dave Merrick!!? ‘Does Mr. Pluck own any shops out there I wonder!!? will get a zapper for you (for your mosquito bites) and some cream and don’t hesitate to e-mail me if you can think of anything else (Dave will need an extra case) oh yes and the card!!
Take good care – think about you often.
All my love – God Bless Auntie Rosemary x
Not yet, but I hope to soon
To suzie thankyou for your postcard I like the picture, , hope your making lots of freinds. I cant wait to see some more photos of you. Miss you lots from Gabi xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I wonder if at any point throughout your trip you’re going to have a day where you stop and think ‘well, nothing much to write about today then’… Somehow I doubt it. It seems to me that you were born to have amazing things go on around you!
Glad you’ve arrived ‘home’ safe and that you’re settling so well.
Love,
Sarah
Hey Suzie
Really enjoying the blog – you’ll be a published author before you know it!
The Indian Finance Minister in 2AC! Can’t see any of our ministers ‘keeping it real’ like that ;o)
I spent a lovely day with my family while Mike was over in the Lakes visiting your mum. My grandma has just celebrated her 86th birthday AND 65th wedding anniversary!
All my family send their love and best wishes.
love and hugs
C
x
Hi Suze, we all thought you’d got lost, either that or all internet cafes were on strike!! 5 whole days with no blog!! Word must have spread about that english girl who wrotes a novel every time she pops in!! Joking aside I think we all feel that we are experiencing every moment of this trip with you. Angela turned 30 yesterday and I popped round to see her, even she has become addicted to your blog website!! Take care and keep enjoying…. Lots of love C L x x x
Hey there my travelling friend!
You just keep brightening up my days – thank you!
Glad you’ve arrived at this destination safely and you were greeted in a way I’m sure you’ll come accustomed to. Those singing classes at Winstanley College will have prepared you for your reply!!
Be happy and safe and keep blogging!
Love and miss you lots and lots.
xxx
Hi Suze, so glad to hear from you again, ir feels like something is missing from our website when there is no Blog. I look forward to it
Thank you very much for the postcard of Taj Mahal. It really is beautiful, and must be even nicer in reality. You sound as though you like where you are at the moment. Let’s hope it comes up to your expectations, hope to hear from you again lots of love and God
bless from Angela xxx