Just a small town girl Living in a lonely world She took the midnight train Going anywhere So my world wasn’t lonely, my train was in the morning, and I knew exactly where it was going. But when you wake up at 5 in the morning and take off to the railway station in a strange town, it sure feels that way. When I started planning my trip, I was particular about one thing. I would try to take day trains and camp for the night at a hotel. None of those going without a shower for 2 days kinda trips for me. For future reference, I paid particular attention to the waiting rooms and the attached showers in the railway stations. The Ernakulam station was without doubt one of the cleanest stations. The waiting rooms made me think Indian railways has come a long long way. This would soon change. For now, I was happy to bask in my love for Kerala. I was taking the Ernakulam-Poona express that goes across the Konkan coastline. My stop was at Madgaon. This was the highlight of my itinerary. Or so I thought. That would change in a couple of days as well. My ticket was for a non AC second class compartment. No more comfort of the AC chair car. I wanted an uninterrupted view of the landscape. I found my seat, verified that the toilets do indeed stink, cleared away the dried orange peels from my side-lower berth, wiped off the grime of a few years with a wet wipe, confirmed that the train on the neighbouring track is cleaner, and settled down. To the stink of poop from the tracks. Having finally understood why people get in only at the very last minute, I decided to get off the train. Not caring if you lose your suitcase is the most liberating feeling during travel. It single-handedly determines how adventurous you’ll end up being. My suitcase had nothing apart from a few pairs of clothes, books and wet wipes. So I left it behind and went down to get some breakfast. After a plate of hot idli vada, and an early morning walk from one end of the station to the other, I climbed back in and we choo-chooed off. My pick for this journey was the appropriately named The Great Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux. I did not have a chance to go beyond a few pages. The distractions were many this day. The first of them came in the form of the orange sun. The best part of watching the sun rise from a train is not the sunrise itself. It’s the backdrop of the horizontal window bars and the occasional zigzagging telephone lines. It’s like a complex can-you-count-the-triangles-in-this-picture puzzle. I closed my book and eased into a routine of gazing out of the window and staring at my fellow passengers alternately. I had written down the list of stations the train would stop at, on a piece of paper. I was expecting to be blown away at Mangalore. I didn’t have to wait till then. I was wide eyed at Shoranur. Fact time - There are 2000 bridges and 91 tunnels on the Konkan railway. A fair number of these were on the route I took, killing my ear drums a little bit each time we passed a tunnel. The other interesting fact about the Konkan railways is that all the stations are plastic free. Hence, it comes as even more of a disappointment to see a line of plastic bags outlining each view, in between the stations. Notwithstanding, the ride was mesmerizing. One moment the train was navigating the middle of the sea, and the other the insides of a mountain. I wish I had gone all the way to Pune along the coast, but my ticket was only till Madgaon. As I got off the train, my suitcase bumped into a foreigner sporting a beard and a lungi, paired with sneakers. The similarity to the Goa I was familiar with ended there, with him. I checked into a hotel close to the station. It was just 7.30 in the evening. I collapsed on the bed for a short nap and got up at 8.30 the next morning. I had a leisurely breakfast, admiring a couple of cute fellas who had come from Sikkim to play a football match. I had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the rest of the day. So I set out to explore the streets, with my cool blue shades and sunscreen. It was a hot morning but that was not going to stop me. I came across this quaint little store selling ceramic ware – platters, wall hangings and the like – hand painted by a local painter. At that moment, I fell in love with all things Goan. Baga and Candolim, memories from just the previous month, seemed like an age away. This vivacious, happy, creative place captured my heart. The golden heart emporium, now named Confidant library, was next on my mind. I chose the route via the old market. This is a Goa unlike any that I had seen before. Greasy shops, charming colourful houses and crumbling accountant offices characterised the Abade Faria road.
I trudged along to the library, a stuffy place that smelt of books. I picked up a book called Ferry Crossing, a collection of short stories from Goa. The compiler says this is his attempt to portray the real Goa, the one that the tourists don’t know of. It was worth a read. Here’s a travel tip – read a story set in the place you are travelling in. It makes the place come real like nothing else does! All in the comfort of your hotel, without having to step out into the hot sun. And that is exactly what I did for the rest of the day, accompanied by copious amounts of rice and fish curry.
4 Comments
Good going! Hope you continue writing, and even after all your travels are done!
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Aishwarya
30/1/2015 10:14:21 am
Thanks Wimpy!
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hayko
11/2/2015 09:48:44 pm
love the way you describe the trains - almost like sitting there! :)
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Aishwarya
13/2/2015 02:01:11 am
Thanks Hayko! Glad you enjoyed it :)
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Aishwarya KalakataThe loss of and search for individualism has never been felt more acutely. Everything changed after I had a kid. But this blog is not about me being a mom. It’s about the things I do when I want to stop being a mom. It’s about telling myself that it is possible and that it is ok. It’s about my little escapades. Mostly travel - sometimes physical, sometimes mental. A desperate bid to stop my identity from being rolled into a single word. CategoriesArchives
March 2021
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