The Rajdani Express - Mumbai to Delhi

The Rajdani Express is one of the "modern" trains on the Indian railways, brought into service in the 1960's (no joke) and is a massive train which covers the huge distant from Mumbai on the West coast to Delhi in the North in about 11 hours.

4pm - Mumbai, We were sharing a compartment with a man travelling only a few stops North and a chap going all the way to Delhi. Bit anoid it wasn't a two berth but there we go. We fold down the top bunk and chuck our luggage on it - its actually quite a comfy and clean train. Air con, free bottles of water, mango juice, tea - in a pot with china cups and saucers served up alongside a pasty, cup cake and choccie biscuit - shaping up well and we've only been going 50 mins.
We pass out of the Mumbai urban sprawl and into areas of salt flats, land reclamation and thin forest. Still lots of people inhabit shacks by the lines but now there is also fields (with grass) of goats, sheep and cows.

7pm - We pass into Gujarat and a number of textile and paper mills appear. The land is thick with mango trees, which starts Keith pining for Oz, and the houses scarce. The women in Saris carry bundles on their heads. Random sections of bridge lie by the railside - like someones lost mechano bits. Wild peacocks run around the dusty fields and banana palms fade into the rapid twilight.

8:15pm - My table has been laid with flower pattern china and real cuttlery. Curd, pickle and ketchup appear to be accompanying tonight's dinner. I have promised Keith I will only eat the food if it is pipping hot - not worth Delhi Belly on a train. One of our travellers has been replaced by an elderly gentleman, he sits like a hairy eared Bhuda, crossed legged on the bottom bunk. Dinner will also be accompanied by the tones of phlegm clearance - Indian style - I don't each much...

4am - (The Unpleasantness) - I awake and discover that my bag and our fellow top bunk passenger has gone. At 3:40am, when we stopped at Kota he hopped the train with my bag. Camera, purse, phone, train tickets and electric toothbrush all gone. I swore, woke Keith and then got the carriage attendant. Much discussion ensued and then I eventually wrote out (in duplicate of course) a stolen goods form. Not much else could be done so we headed back to bed and I awaited sun rise - cursing myself for being so stupid and trusting with my things. I had become comfortable and complacent in the country and lost my valuables because of it.

9am - Delhi, On arrival we went to, what turned out to be an army post, they sent us to the RPF building and the RPF sent us to the GPR office (only in India). Once there, amongst morning parade, we were seen by a toothless detective pretty quickly. I had to write out a complaint form in long hand, addressed to the cops, outlining the incident. This done it was taken off - no idea where. Meanwhile we were given Chai Masala (Spicy sweet tea), watched the Ghekos and ants run around the walls and listened to the screams of some bloke chained up by the neck in the cells. Eventually our tec and letter returned. The complaint was then copied, longhand into the ledger, my name, my fathers name, occupation, inside leg measurement (not really) was taken, copied in quadruplicate, signed by the commanding officer and then stamped (of course) before two copies were handed to me. Then there was a receipt form, yet more carbon. At no point did anyone even glace in the direction of the computer sitting at the back of the office. Receipt in one hand, a gifted cucumber in the other we left, with profuse thanks and headed off to find a tuc tuc to the Imperial. What a start to the holiday!