PRECIOUS MEMORIES*
Haridwar for Diwali. The second most holy city on the Ganga after Benares. A perfect plan except the logistics. From Jaipur no direct train, no direct flight. Both require a connection and wait in Delhi. Could we have planned our route round Rajasthan differently to make arrival in Haridwar easier? Perhaps, but by the time we appreciated the difficulty we had, in our eyes, planned the perfect more or less anti-clockwise route around our Rajasthani destinations, and booked some of hotels hotels and trains. And this is India. There will be a solution. Car and driver? Of course, but a minimum 10 hours plus stops, potentially cramped with four of us and our luggage and three of us on the back seat sliding round the bends; Roberto in the front (he has long legs) travelling either with eyes closed or risking a heart attack at every other overtaking manouvre. Not immediately appealing.
The guidebook reveals a direct luxury bus daily. It is overnight and has sleeping berths which can be pre-booked. Alison M researches and buys tickets for four sleeping berths on line. We will arrive in Haridwar the morning of 6th November, the day before the main Diwali festival, and be present for all celebrations. Alison M and Roberto have travelled by luxury overnight bus in Argentina, what can possibly go wrong?
We bid farewell to Herve, our French host and his wonderful manager Sitaram, at our gorgeous Amber guesthouse. Wrap up warm for the bus says Sitaram, the aircon can be vicious. Our bus is non aircon. Oh, says Sitaram, slightly incredulous. Herve wishes us luck and asks to know how we get on. . .
The scheduled departure time is 20:30 from central Jaipur. We know the traffic will be bad because it always is and because of the number of people travelling to or from Jaipur for the Diwali holidays. Lovely Manoj arrives at 18:30 to drive us to the bus pick up point. With some difficulty we find it, it is not the depot we expected but a travel agency desk on a REALLY busy main road, under a really busy flyover. Manoj looks concerned to leave us but we reassure him it is fine and send him on his way. Is the bus on time we ask the man on the agency desk. We receive the head waggle in reply – is that a yes waggle or a maybe waggle, we still cannot tell. Does the bus start in Jaipur? We receive the head waggle that we think is yes. . .
We wait in the road, with our luggage. We look for a nearby cafe or bar but there is nothing and we do not want to go too far as we have no plan B and cannot risk missing the bus. 20:30 arrives. Is the bus late Alison M asks the man. Yes. How late? 9 0’clock. We wait. The noise from the traffic is horrendous exacerbated by the ceaseless horn tooting, we are all getting scratchy eyes and throats from the pollution. . .
21:00 comes and goes. Grumpy agency man will not answer Alison M’s enquiries as to expected hour of arrival. I try asking, offering sweets at the same time. He takes the sweets. I get no answer either . . .
Andy and Roberto try to pass the time with traffic reporting and direction (watch the videos I will post/upload/attach after the link to this blog as a supplement). . .
Suddenly, just before 22:00 there is frantic activity in front of the travel agency desk and we are told to follow a man to the other side of the really busy, cacophonous highway as the bus has arrived. In huge haste (we have no Plan B remember!) we hurtle ourselves across the four lanes of traffic and board the bus . . .
It is packed. There are sleeping compartments in two tiers, single on one side, double on the other. Our berth numbers correspond with two double, top tier berths, we slide back the glazed privacy panels and discover a family in each of them! It has to be said they move out with good grace we are not sure where to. . .
And we are off – before we can satisfactorily stow luggage, claim into our berths or brush them out (the coverings to the cushion/thin mattress are really grubby). It is very quickly apparent that the bus has no shock absorbers, no suspension. There is serious, uncomfortable, constant jolting. I try to read but cannot keep the page still enough. I try to listen to a radio 4 serialisation of a book, it is far too noisy, the bus driver tooting his horn almost incessantly. . .
We travel through the night. There are two stops, one possibly for fuel, one under a fly over, to enable the men who need to to relieve themselves against a wall each time (this is India!) but what about us women? Eventually at about 7 a.m. there is a stop with a cafe and facilities. Desperation writ large on our faces Alison M and I were pushed to the front of the queue for the facilities (this is India, people are very kind). Alison M was so desperate that she had previously started constructing emergency relief facilities with two empty water bottles but that was a no go: did I mention the bus has no shock absorbers . . .
Capable of speech again, we moan about the bus, the length of time it has taken so far, the absence of stops for loo breaks, the absence of information about the timing of any breaks but are stopped in our diatribe when Alison M says that she has enjoyed it all – with the exception of the lack of a loo break – and has happily passed the night on her front, looking out of the window or sleeping . . .
We board the bus again and there are two changes. A busker has boarded and sings (well -ish) and seeks money for his singing. Eventually the bus stops to let him off. And the bus horn has almost-died. It now emits a strangulated moan rather than an eardrum piercing blast . . .
We pull into the bus depot at Haridwar about 10 a.m. 12 hours after starting the journey, epic to us but actually not at all by local standards! We smile, happy the journey is at an and and certainly not to be repeated by the four of us at least (Andy and I have an as yet unplanned further four weeks so who knows). . .
Hotel, shower, lunch and beer say the boys. Alison M and I exchange looks. They really have not done their research have they . . . .
Until next time, Namaste
Alison
*the title for this blog was provided by lovely Dr Ravleen, in Delhi. It was her response to Andy’s brief wattsapp to her telling her of the journey and our arrival . . .
Wow what an experience! Love the videos and I can almost feel the discomfort. I’m sure it’ll all be worth it to experience Diwali in India. When are you guys home for Christmas? bx
We are back, landed Friday, my blogs are several destinations and about four weeks in arrear . . . . .I am thinking of them as festive reading material!! xx
Sounds like a real adventure… described very well, could almost feel the ‘no suspension’ bounce….. great fun! Xxx
Definitely an adventure. Did I say my Fitbit – from midnight on that journey to stepping into the hotel – said i had done over 42,000 steps. I had done about 100!!
But you don’t look at all frazzled!
Haha. The frazzling was mental . . . Well mostly!