I became obsessed with going to India after reading ‘City of Joy’, Dominic Lapierre’s semi-fictional story of the slums of Calcutta, and it was only enhanced after watching the movie of the same name starring Patrick Swayze. The year was 1994 (before mobile phones and the internet) and my mother was horrified that I was going off to this “poor and disease-ridden country” by myself. Every day she would come home with stories of “so and so’s son” who had been there and come back with typhoid or dysentery or some other horrible disease. She didn’t realise that it only made me more determined to go!
I consumed all the travel guides and literature I could get my hands on and decided I would be able to see all of India by rail in a month. Rookie mistake, India is a really big country! Arriving at the India Rail office in Wembley, London my travel agent duly informed me “India is a really big country you know!” and so I must choose between North or South. I chose South, starting in Bombay and looping around Madras, Bangalore, Mysore and Cochin. I would travel in first class, just like Paul Theroux in “The Great Railway Bazaar”, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
“No guide book can prepare you for India! The smell hits you as soon as you step out of the airport. Then there’s the people, millions of them everywhere! Driving from the airport you pass some of the worst slums imaginable. I remember the play houses we used to make as children out of a clothes horse and a blanket. Here a family of four can live quite happily in one. They are the lucky ones; every soft piece of ground is filled with people sleeping with only a blanket for comfort.” My 1994 travel diary.
I felt like I was back in the British Raj when I arrived at Bombay railway station. My name was printed on the passenger list at the door to the First Class carriage, and I was met by Mr Ali, the husband of a family I was going to be sharing with. He was very keen to get me organised and with fatherly concern, negotiated a fair price with the porters to carry my (as usual) heavy suitcase to the luggage store and then escorted me to our carriage and introduced me to my “new” family.
A first-class railway carriage in India gets you air conditioning (of sorts), four bunks which fold down into seating during the day, but also provide sheets, pillows and towels and waiter service from the buffet car. I’ve always had delusions of grandeur and if I can afford it then I will always choose luxury, but in India luxury doesn’t cost a fortune. Even on my backpacker budget I travelled First Class all the way and according to my travel diary, a 15 day Indrail pass cost me £165/A$299/US$208 in 1994. I will also mention that on this trip I did at times share a hotel room with several rats, a million flying cockroaches which came to visit every time I turned on the shower, and a friendly gecko, so please forgive me for my little luxuries on the trains!
Mr Ali and his wife and two children were very welcoming, sharing their food and educating me about the Hindu religion. They also showed me a photo of their guru, Sai Baba who apparently performs miracles and who many worship as a god. Mr Ali then put some vhbuti (sacred ash) on my forehead to bring me good luck and keep away disease (are you listening mum?).
Whether it was the ash or just sheer determination to prove my mother wrong, I never did get sick in India!
As I continued through Southern India, I met many wonderful and charismatic people along the way. Some turned out to be a little annoying when I always seemed to end up at a shop owned by one of their relatives, but others have become lifelong friends. Children loved getting their photos taken or just practicing English, and I was often greeted with “hello madam, how are you?” followed by a big smile and laughter. India isn’t for everyone, it can be frustrating at times and I think it’s one of those countries you either love or hate. I love it!
“Today I have really started to enjoy India – it’s like heaven and hell together! The people are wonderful and seem so happy in spite of what little they have.” excerpt from my 1994 travel diary
I’m planning a tour of Northern India in 2021 (pandemic permitting) but meanwhile consoling myself with reading “The Henna Artist” by Alka Joshi and reminiscing with my travel journals of my previous two trips to India. One thing that strikes me in my journals is how much I talk about food! In each city I’ve visited I always seemed to end up at a food market and there were detailed descriptions of every meal I ate. On my last trip to Cochin (Kochi) I had cooking lessons with a beautiful home cook named Gigi. She taught me how to grind my own spices as well as a repertoire of curry recipes and accompaniments which I use on an almost weekly basis.
How do you visit India in 2020? You invite your fellow foodies, dress up in Indian costume and host a Bollywood curry night!
Namaste
