Entry 5, Night Train Goa
As I was approaching Thane, I knew that there was no way I could face the heavy traffic between Thane and Pune and as I headed deeper into the centre of Thane in search of the train station, I was fully immersed in an ocean of Indian bodies. It was difficult at times to find anyway forward. Thane is unquestionably the busiest train station Ive ever seen, it didnt help that it was Christmas day or that some Hindu dude was shouting something noisily outside the station either even accustomed to manic India, this was another level again.
It took an hour just to find out if it was possible to board a train to Goa from here, after that booking the tickets took over three hours, but I liked the idea of an overnight Indian train journey and the cost of the ticket which included an AC bed was cheaper than the building site room where I last slept in Thane, I wouldnt have to face the multitudes outside again and it also recovered the week I spent heading north to Nasik.
Overwhelmed by the number of people, the whole process of getting the ticket required every ounce of patience I had left especially after such a long day. At one point an interested on looker told me I was in India on hearing where I wanted to take the train to and my right knee longed to make brief, sharp, explosive and ultimately painful contact with his genitalia, instead I dismissed him as cruelly as I could and finally spoke to a representative of the railway who actually knew something.
The whole process was pretty exhausting, but the station chief made it significantly easier by letting me park the bike in his office as I moved back and fourth between the two places where possibilities and availabilities were served in unequal and often conflicting portions. The station master urged me to take a particular train which I finally discovered was full, but was very happy to be on the additional holiday train, it was populated by Indians and it was safer as the thief's target the other train, the Konkam express. Once I had the ticket I needed another 30min for my second trip to the luggage office to get the bike confirmed on the same train as I was and then all I had to do was wait for four hours.
Wearing most of the 90km of road I had just cycled, 90km worth of sweat,I didnt smell too bad but I was pretty dirty, there had been road works and I had a liberal dose of tar and stones in addition to the red dust, in retrospect I should have wrapped myself in damp canvas and sold the resulting masterpiece to some stupid rich American. I made a brief sortie to the station showers, but was unwilling to bare any flesh in the room and there was nowhere to hang my clean clothes or towel. So it was in this state I went for some food directly across form the station, where I had a surprisingly long wait but the food was rather good. Stocking up on water and making a couple of brief calls “you are still in Mumbai”?, thanks Hubert I returned to my bike and moved it over to the guards office where I handed it and some cash over to their care and then camped outside the gates that the bike had been locked behind with my baggage, trusting person that I am.
The time for my train came and went, I spoke to some guys who told me where the carriage information was posted and I dutifully went to the correct place on the platform. Eventually late a train turned up and I managed to get myself, panniers and bag of water etc onto the correct coach only to find my berth full. Mildly stressed as I wanting to watch for the bike, I spoke to the conductor who upon looking at my ticket said it was for the wrong day and I should piss off and stop making his life difficult, his words were slightly more polite than this but his eyes added the seasoning. I tried in vain to tell him I had only booked it a few hours before hand and the officer had instructed me to change the date. He just looked at me blankly and ushered me off the train. “But my bike is being loaded on this train” I whined, “what am I to do”? His face said “Look foreigner I dont give shit, get off my train” so, I did.
Still whining about my bike I watched the train pull out with a very heavy feeling in my stomach, despite the hassle organising the ticket, my lack of accommodation or even the late/ early hour I didnt give a shit about any of that, but I had just learned how important the bike was to me.
I felt empty, not devastated or anything that has a reasonable adjective to describe it, as the train pulled out, I expected never to see my bike again. My train left from the same platform as the guards room that stores all the luggage, so I headed back down towards the place I had handed my bike over to find out what I could do, I was really feeling pretty numb.
After five minutes of walking, there coming towards me were two guards, one of them wheeling my bike. Disbelief, elation and a million thoughts filled me one of which was, ok they realised that the date was wrong and were coming to find me, but I was wrong.
The first train had been so late it arrived after my train was supposed to leave and over an hour late my train was just approaching the station, I was going to Goa tonight WITH my bike after all!
The announcements were in Hindi and even had they been in English I still would not have understood them, delivered as they were via a Victorian era PA. Elated I boarded the correct carriage, stowed my luggage and went back out to look for my bike, but it had already been loaded. My berth, the upper in a three high stack was excellent and clean as were the sheets. I had already unpacked my PDA to read a book and as we pulled out I headed to the toilet to finally wash some of the dirt and sweat off with a towel I had bought for 20euro cents outside the station for just this purpose. Clean and excited I climbed into my bunk. I lay there reading my book, eating crisps and drinking a can of beer, on a clean bed in an AC cabin – HEAVEN.
I eventually left my high retreat around 07:30, worried that I had missed my stop as I had no idea when I was supposed to arrive and when we would actually arrive. Sadly I didnt really get to rest much after that as my arrival time seemed quite elastic and often wildly different based on the reports from an informed timetable carrying passenger and the conductor. I had a couple of cups of tea with the biscuits I had brought and eventually around 13:00 we arrived at my station. Saying my goodbyes to my excellent travelling companions, I went in search of my bike. I had with the assistance of one chap tried to alert the guard that I should be getting luggage at my station but he was both hiding and sleeping we were reliably informed by the tea boys.
The station master wasn't in his office and I was getting worried that no one would remember about my bike, but after 20min the train still hadn't pulled out and my bike was making its way along the platform towards me, undamaged, unscathed and it top condition.
I gave the “boy” Rs20 thanked him, signed the chit in triplicate and started the process of changing clothes and loading the bike, needless to say I had one of my first crowds of interested parties and eventually I was on my way, next stop on this roller coaster the Arabian sea and GOA!
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