...to Varanasi...
'We'd better get some money out', he says, 'half the money machines round here don't work and we don't wanna be caught out, not there'.
'I'm going to the money machine, you wanna go?', he says
"yeah I'll go", says me looking out the window at the chaos outside.
It's late afternoon in Dehli and the streets are heaving with screeching cars, cows and people in every kind of cloth imaginable to man. A bit hectic, but we've got used to it now.
Walking out of the hotel and we're instantly approached. Every street vender sees us coming... like we've got a spotlight on us spelling out the word tourist in large bold print.
'Yes ma'am, come inside'
'Hello sir, where are you going'
'What are you looking for'
'Hello Ma'am, shopping... you come look in my shop. Anything you need I have, yes, you come look ok'.
Street vendors too... first the guy weaving some embroidery, then someone selling shoes, oh, and all the tourist offices. Every doorway has someone outside to lure you in, same in Vietnam. Hello, massage.
It's so different here, the way of life is so busy and there's opportunity everywhere. We have learnt to say no, nicely and with a smile, sometimes assertively and more often, just a wave of the hand. I feel bad saying no all the time, so every few shops I stop and look, sometimes a chat, always a pressure and even a desperation to sell. Once I get stuck inside a clothes shop, another time it's a department store. Everything is for sale and they just want you to look. We do, we look at beautiful silk sari's, pashmina scarves, shirts and dresses. Fair to say I came home with a big bag full of clothes and I do love shopping.
Finally, we wrestle our way to the train station, we've been told there's a money machine nearby so we figure it's gotta be easy to get to. Wrong.
After rushing across the busy street, we've instantly met by another man... a tuk tuk driver, usual questions...
'Nah mate, we're just looking for a money machine'
At this point I see him on the phone and amongst all the commotion, I get a weird feeling we're being set up. Of course we've read about this happening in the travel books but it's so quick in real life when it does. I wait outside when he goes in to use the machine - of course it doesn't work either. Just about every machine around here is either out of cash or completely broken. But we try anyway in the hope it might just squeeze out a few rupees for a cab fare and tip.
We're approached again, same man, same urgency, tells us to go that way, to the square. There's a machine there, that one works, and he walks off. Not a few steps later, we're approached by another man, same sales pitch, same bs story... 'no thanks mate, we're going this way'
Walking faster now, another man approaches and blocks us from crossing the street. 'You looking for a money machine?', he asks... turning around I see the second man on the phone. Scam.
"Let's go" I'm like getting a bit scared now, 'ok, stop, we'll cross here, you ready', "yep", 'come on, quick'
And we're off... back to the street we came from, and luckily, a working money machine, just near the hotel. Could've saved all that time. Back to the hotel, pack up, back to the train station...
The tour guide at the hotel who sold us the ticket was awesome. He told us exactly what to look for when we got there. It's great to have that when you're traveling and we learn to trust a little more.
Waiting on the platform, walking past lines of ("are they bodies"?) lined up along the platform, stairs, and sidewalk. Boarding this train was always gonna be a little mad. We find an empty space and sit.
Not long, a man approaches in a blanket, bare feet, bit scruffy but I'm no judge.
In very broken english...
'ah where from? What country' where from?'
'New Zealand'
'oh Nooo Zillend'. 'Nice' 'this your wife?', 'me, photo'
I'm already standing up, turned around, scanning the numbers for where our train carriage might be approaching and looking for an exit out of this awkward encounter.
Persistently the man doesn't let up. He repeats everything again till he starts moving and hovering way too close for comfort.
'your wife, huh, photo, me'
'She doesn't want to mate'
'uh your wife... photo'
'She said no mate'
I can hear him in the distance as we're walking towards the wall. He follows us there too.
"Trains coming, thank God, I didn't think he'd actually leave, hope he's not on our carriage"
'Don't think so' he says, 'probably not even catching the train'.
The train is long, really really long, and eventually comes to a stop. A quick sprint down the platform and we're outside our carriage. There's a big argument going on, guards are screaming at some passengers and they get pushed out onto the platform with their luggage. Guard slams the door and locks it. Damn.
Slight panic, we run to the next carriage, knock on the door, hard, door opens and we hand another guard our tickets. Trains about to leave and everything is jam packed. How are we gonna spend the next 14 hours on this thing, what are we doing? He directs us down to the three storey bunk, shines his torch, we're in the middle and top. Climbing the steps to the top bunk, my mind is fizzing but relieved in some strange way. It's travel, and not how we know it. We drift off to sleep.
K
