A Bellyful of Delhi
It was one of those times when a picture would have been priceless, but I was too scared to bring out my digital. Not my camera, I should say, a borrowed one, so best not to lose it...
I'd been bombarded with nervous advice about how to handle the Indian railway system but being 'an experienced traveller' expected to take it all in my stride.
Not a chance.
For the first ten minutes I humped my overheavy bags around searching for the departures info board, only to find it in the place I had started from. Heading for the platform it said, I found it swamped with people: sitting on bags; sleeping; drinking tea; loading and unloading baggage carts. It was mayhem. I could hardly move.
There were announcements in English on the PA system, but they were incomprehensible. Not a single railway attendent was to be seen. Eventually, prompted by a call from my cousin, I asked what was going on. The platform was occupied by another train that was delaying my train, they said, so at least I was in the right place.
When the train finally showed up, it was another mad dash through a jumble of people doing the same to try to find my carriage. On the way there I was knocked and jostled more than I'd ever been in China. Then to cap it all, once I'd finally settled in, the aircon got turned up to full blast and I shivered through the night.
Let this be a warning to me!
