Night Train To Bangalore By Paul Mcilwain

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(Free-Press-Release.com) December 7, 2011 -- The dusty streets are choked. Everything and everyone is on the move. It’s afternoon peak hour in a place that is always impossibly busy. But this is India. It often feels here as though there are more people, more vehicles, more sounds, sights, and tastes than any place can conceivably contain. It’s one of the things that keeps us coming back. Every sense works overtime here. Of course that also makes it tiring. Why else would that person be lying wrapped in a sheet, asleep, next to the bus-stop, while hundreds of people walk around and even over him.

We’re headed for the railway station in the city of Hyderabad to take the night train south to Bangalore. Instead of cramming into an auto-rickshaw, suitcases and all, we’ve allowed ourselves the luxury of a taxi. Then, finally at the station, another indulgence – perhaps we’re getting old and soft – we hire one of the red uniformed porters we usually wave away. One suitcase on his head, and the other in hand, it’s all we can do to keep up through the crowds, up and down stairs and finally to the platform. With extravagant head wagging and pointing he indicates this is the very spot we’ll board. We’re eternally grateful, as much for being brought here directly, as for not having to carry the luggage ourselves.

In the gathering dark, the train pulls slowly in, groaning and squealing. With bated breath we find the all important passenger list posted by the door of the 1st class carriage. And…yes! We see our names printed in faded ink on official Indian Railways wide carriage, tractor feed paper (who would have guessed they still made those?) confirming, miraculously, that we’ve landed the only two birthed compartment on the entire train. The tension had been heightened by the awareness that any late arrival of a local politician could have trumped our month old reservation. We board with a slightly guilty glance down the platform at the families pushing their way on to the already overcrowded Sleeper Class (SL) and, even further, to many who will be sitting – the lucky ones – or even standing the entire night in Second Class (SC).

1500 Rupees (about AU$30) each has secured us that rarest of luxuries in these parts, privacy. We also have a choice in toilets at the end of the carriage, “Indian” and “Western Style”. These prove to be fairly clean, and obviously engineered with the goal of simple elegance, they afford an unobstructed view of the tracks below. No doubt among the 1.36 million India Railways employees some spend their days figuring how many trees have been saved for the planet by not issuing any paper products in the lavatories. The attendant comes around to the compartment with a brown paper parcel that contains two sheets, a blanket, a pillow and small towel. We forgo the complementary meal (“Veg or non-veg, sir?) and settle for some plain yoghurt, “curd” and water. When we’re too tired to read any longer we let the Bangalore Express rock us to sleep.
We arrive in the cool watery dawn at Bangalore Cantonement Station, named for the 19th century garrison of the British Raj. This trip has reminded us why we like to travel by train, and some of the reasons we enjoy visiting the wonderful country of India. For more information about Paul and Linda McIlwain, just visit gullyandroad.com (008).

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