From Jaipur we took a change of direction. Our original plan was to head to Udaipur, but as we discovered when we got to the station, there wasn’t a train until the next day. Itching to move on from Jaipur, we asked the attendants at the booth where we could go that day. Due to our lack of malaria medication, if we had travelled any further south we were putting ourselves at risk, so north it was, and upwards to Chandigarh. Heading north was the best decision we could have made, the reason for which I will explain at a later date.
The train from Jaipur to Chandigarh that we took was a 10 hour night train, and we eventually decided to save some money and experience a third class rail journey. I was a little apprehensive, especially considering we were going to be on there for so long. However, I cannot describe to you how well I managed to sleep during that journey.
Picture your average sleeper carriage but packed with fold-out bunks three tiers high. Once we got on the train I imagined myself tossing and turning all night long, getting irritated with all the people around and the noise they were making. As it turns out, it hit 9pm and the carriage went silent, leading the way for the motion of the train to gently rock me into a beautiful slumber. Using my bag with valuables in and a blanket thrown over as a pillow, I drifted off and next thing I knew, it was light outside and we were close to our desination.
Third class sleeper carriage, Jaipur to Chandigarh
Not many people would think of this when they imagine a third class train in India. Most of us would picture your classic Indian rail trip with passengers hanging out the side of the carriages, the more hardcore of which miraculously managing to catch some zzz’s with half their body free to the wind. But for the mostpart, many of the train journeys were took were perfectly pleasant.
The first was from Delhi to Agra in the first class cabin. Included in the incredibly cheap price was breakfast and any other kind of food they could possible give us throughout the journey – we were seriously well fed on that one, and by majestic hosts in turbans no less.
For our last train ride back to Delhi to fly home we had a huge compartment to ourselves, with four spacious beds to sprawl out on. Presuming that the food was free as per the first instance, when offered refreshments we gratefully took them, and indulged. Little did we know that the gentleman serving us would come back near the end and give us a bill. To this day I am convinced that this was a scandel; he saw we were tourists and took us for a ride. We tried to go and ask the people in the carriage next to us if they had to pay, but the man who served us managed to get in there first and mutter some words to them before we got the chance. Reluctantly we paid, but I would suggest that you ask any attendant on a train if the food in free before you take a bite.
Buses are a little more difficult. We wanted to take a bus from Chandigarh up to Dharamsala, so headed to the bus station to book our tickets. The organisation was absurd. We found the part where the bus would go from, and a little booth with what looked like men selling bus tickets in it. However, crowds of shouting Indians surrounded these men, leaving no room for us to enquire..
Trains are easy to book in India, and many of the people working on the counters can speak English. Try to find a form to fill in to explain where you want to go (it may or may not be obvious where these are when you arrive, but they should be on the counter somewhere) and just hand it over. They’ll ask you a couple of questions to confirm but they’ll be easy to understand.
No such thing seemed to exist for taking the bus. Chandigarh station seemed developed enough as it was quite big, but we came back from it confused and empty handed, having trawled around searching for a booking or tourist office for at least an hour. Eventually our only option was to arrive at the station at the time we thought the bus left, and hope for the best. Walk around the place where you think you should get that bus from, and repeat the destination name to strangers, that’s a good and sometimes your only strategy. In the end, a man heard us repeart ‘Dharamsala’, pointed at a bus, repeated it back to us, and took our bags. Done. He then directed us towards the hectic booth we saw the day before and bought our tickets.
Bus from Chandigarh to Dharamsala
The bus journey itself was a little cramped by other than that fine, more or less the same as you would find anywhere else but a little more rickety. We were headed up to the mountains, so lots of twists and turns were made on the precarious roads, which made my usual stomach-of-steel a touch queasy. Make sure you bring food for a long journey, no such buffet service exists on the buses. We did make one stop though so there should be an opportunity for you to grab something.
Even with the thieving waiter on the last train to Delhi (I’m not bitter), I would have to say all of my experiences on Indian transport were more than enjoyable. I’m the kind of person that thrives off chaos, and anything different to my own country. It can get a little stressful if you have to catch a certain train to get somewhere on time, but if you take it easy and relax, you’ll work it all out eventually. Put ‘Paper Planes’ by M.I.A. on your iPod, sit back and relish the madness, Slumdog Millionaire style.
The transport in India is half of the total experience, and half the fun of the country, and I urge any one of you to try out the third class carriages. I hope you sleep as well as I did.
