Epilogue + Some Stats

In case you were wondering we got home safe and sound to Scotland where the weather is very reminiscent of Mcleodganj.

Some stats

30 Train journeys totalling 6272 km.
4 bus journeys                    c 30 km
8 Delhi  metro journeys
8 Hire cars                         c 1250 km
2 boat trips
Countless Autos and local taxis

41 nights in 19 various hotels, lodges, homestays and guest houses.
7 overnights on trains.

We met all sorts of interesting people and had a great time.

The End (for now)

Saturday 7th - Happy Anniversary

Seven weeks has just flown by. This is our last full day in India for this trip. It is also our thirty fifth wedding anniversary. We take the Metro to Chandni Chowk as we plan to visit some of the markets. We get quite a surprise when we get out onto the eponymous street. The eastbound carriageway has been dug up and is being used as a parking lot and open air warehouse. The westbound traffic seems to be purely for westbound traffic apart from cycle rickshaws. It is hard to tell whether this is a temporary measure or a permanent one but it does seem to make it easier to get around. We hop a rickshaw for the ride up to the spice market where the shops are just starting to open. R finds a cast iron tawa for making roti and gets a year's supply of cumin seeds for a pound.

We make our way back along the shady side of the Chowk. R wants to look at fabric shops but most of them are still closed. We drop in to Haldiram's for a lassi and then we go downstairs to select dome sweets to take home. The choice is mindboggling but we are helped out by a member of staff with good English who appears to have been tasked with helping tourists. The wheeze works for us. 

Our well established Old Delhi routine requires us to take a walk up Kinari Bazaar where R resists the temptation to buy a suitcase full of haberdashery. Using the wonders of online mapping D navigates the alleys through to Chowri Bazaar and manages to find the brilliant gulab jamun stall that he utterly failed to find a year ago. This triumph is followed up with a visit to the short stretch of street that hosts mehendi artists so that R can get her hand painted.  

The chores complete we travel by cycle rickshaw, then auto to the ludicrously expensive Imperial Hotel for a cocktail to celebrate our anniversary. We lunch at a rather more economical spot on CP which gets us to 3 p.m. The sky has clouded over and there is clearly a storm brewing. We take the metro to Jor Bagh to collect our book order and walk back briskly to the bungalow as the thunder starts. We just make it in time before the heavens open. A repack just about fits everything in and we settle our bill and book a taxi. At dinner we meet a lady also heading back to Glasgow tomorrow so we offer her a lift.

Friday 6th - Holi

We sleep in until nine o'clock as there is almost total silence.  No traffic noise - unheard of for Delhi. There are some clouds in the sky but they soon clear and it is a beautiful morning as we drink our tea on the terrace. Nearly everything is closed today so we decide to take the ten minute walk to Lodi Gardens. We get changed into our most expendable outfits and set out. On the way there is hardly a soul to be seen and traffic is minimal but as we enter the gates we hear the sound of drumming and festivities. As we make our way in that direction R spots a lesser goldenback woodpecker which flits around from tree to tree as we watch.

We soon find the first bunch of celebrators and watch from a distance. D wants to get closer for pictures and asks a couple if they mind. Not a problem. A few dabs of red colour on our faces and an exchange of "Happy Holi!" greetings and we are in.  Another group are going for it big time with super soakers. We get splashed a little but it is only water. There are plenty of people in the Gardens who seem to be successfully avoiding Holi and others who look like they have been wrestling with an artist's palette. It is all very good natured and is mainly families taking part.

After a couple of hours walking round it's time to head back for base, passing the Australian lady and her grand daughter who have decided to take a look. By now it is pretty hot and the swimming pool looks inviting. We soon realise why nobody else is in there. It is freezing.  10 minutes was as long as we could bear and as we get out one of the staff comes to top it up with more cold water. We get dried and go to lie down in a darkened room until the cocktail hour when we adjourn to the terrace and watch the parakeets. 

As a result of Holi dinner at the bungalow is a full house. Our table is a mixture of new arrivals and soon to departers. Most of them have been long time regulars here and the conversation turned to innovations introduced by guests. Coffee cafetieres are one of the recent ones. Most people turn in early blaming either jetlag or an early start. We make a start on our packing.

Thursday 5th - A Delhi Meetup

Today is the day of D's annual visit to the National Rail Museum in Delhi. Despite what it says on the website about opening at 9.30 the ticket office does not open until 10 a.m. There has been much ballyhoo about a refurbishment of the museum that was due to complete in December 2014 but which is far from finished. From the look of the work that has been done so far the aim is to convert the place into a kiddies' playpark. There has been some work on the exhibits and a little work on the signing. The indoor exhibit hall is closed. It is a great shame that a potentially excellent museum is being allowed to die.

That visit cut short, D goes to look for R in Jor Bagh where she has had rather more success in finding the bookshop. The book we seek is not in stock but can be ordered for Saturday delivery which works for us. Next up is a Metro trip into the city to visit the street of State Emporiums. We leave the Metro at Rajiv Chowk, formerly known as Connaught Place, and still called CP by most people. This area is notorious for touts and hustlers and a couple of them get the rough end of D's tongue as he checks the navigation.  Happy that we are in the right place we stride out. We can see where we want to be when one more tout tries to tell us that the Government shops are down a dubious looking alley. R is able to fulfil her shopping list with relative ease and we have bags of time to make our next appointment. 

This appointment is a meetup of IndiaMikers at the Cafe at the Treveni Gallery. We get there a little early and have a light lunch to set us on as we plan to eat out tonight. We know that A, who we usually meet when we are in Delhi, is on the Metro heading in from the suburbs, and we spoke to G a couple of days back. The Triveni Cafe is a very pleasant spot and nobody seems to worry if you spend an hour over a glas of tea. A appears and we catch up on each others news, but G is unwell so is not coming. R goes to look at some of the art, while the boys gossip. When she returns it is deemed time to go for a beer.

We walk up to CP passing several groups of people splattered in colours as Holi gets off to an early start for some. The first place that we try has no draught beer and only small bottles so we move on. The second place advertises happy hour and a terrace so we go for that. The beers are small bottles but at 2 for the price of 1 the deal is not too bad and we settle in at a table on the terrace overlooking CP. Local rules have kept this part of Delhi low rise and we get a great view of the sunset. 

The conversation flows and it is time to order food. After about an hour nothing appears and we ask where our food is. Eventually we give up and ask for the bill. Even this doesn't appear and we have to threaten to walk out before anything happens. Our timing at the metro is perfect and we walk straight onto a train. It is remarkably empty and R gets a seat. Presumably people have gone home early for Holi parties. One of the Bungalow's neighbours is having quite a noisy one but it doesn't keep us awake.

Wednesday 4th - Back at Lutyens Bungalow

 Less than 20km outside Delhi our train is on time. We arrive two hours later. We are staying at Lutyens Bungalow again and they have arranged a car for us. The traffic is the usual mess as we leave Old Delhi station but eventually we are free of it and cruising past the familiar landmarks of Lutyens' Delhi. As usual we are made most welcome by Shukla and are soon installed in our room showering off the grime of the train. Not too much seems to have changed apart from the big tree in the garden which has been mainly felled in a storm. The parakeets and squirrels are still around and there was no damage done.

 Our plan today is a bit of shopping, but first lunch at the eminently trendy Sodabottleopenerwalla restaurant at Khan Market. We are allowed lunch as it was biscuits for breakfast today.We find this and as we climb the stairs we both get a familiar feeling. Upstairs we recognise it as a former Tex Mex place where we once had a beer. The place is a kind of good natured pastiche of the Britannia in Mumbai and offers Parsi dishes on the menu. R settles for Aloo Parantha, not very Parsi, but D goes for Baked Eggs with potatoes and spicy tomato sauce. Lunch done the next stop is the bookshop but they don't have what we are looking for. Clothes etc are top dollar here so our next stop is Lajpat Nagar market, a couple of stops along the metro.

R is in the market for churidar trousers to go with her kurti tops and D has a hankering for a new kurta. The market is not too busy and there a lot of sale signs around. We have a good look around and find a kurta shop where we have bought before. There is a very smart one on display but sad to say the biggest size is just not quite big enough. The man climbs a lader and fetches down his stock of larger size kurtas and we find quite a nice one at a very nice 500 rupees. By now it is time to return to base for supper which is two metro rides and a pleasant walk in the evening sunshine.

Supper is a convivial affair. Shukla joins us and around the table  we are joined by a French couple, an Australian lady and her grand daughter and a solo lady traveller,  originally from Australia but now living in Perth, Scotland. One of the topics of conversation is about where to find a good bookshop. Apparently there is one at Jor Bagh, just a few minutes walk from where we are staying. One to check out tomorrow. 

Tuesday 3rd - Sun and Sleet

When we wake up it is rather quiet.  It has stopped raining!  On the downside there is no power so we hide under the blankets to avoid getting up in the chill. Eventually the lure of breakfast drags us out of bed. The portions are huge and the curd with bananas is absolutely delicious. By the time brekker is done the power is restored so we can shower and pack our bags. Check out is noon so we make the most of the dry weather and go to visit the Tibetan Coop which carpet factory. R was very taken with this yesterday and it is well worth a visit. There is no selling pressure at all and we were free to walk around watching the ladies at work on the handlooms and then finishing off the carpets with combs and very sharp shears.

By now it is almost sunny and the streets are drying out. We manage to find a lady that R wants to buy earrings from. She is just setting up her stall. As it is approaching noon we walk back up to the hotel, check out and put our bags in the lock up. This evening we will be travelling to the main line station to catch the train to Delhi. Every day that we have been here the shoeshine man near the hotel has been after D's business. Today he gets it and does an excellent job. The narrow street outside the hotel has quite a lot of traffic so we decide to see where it goes to. Unlike most of the roads in these parts it is fairly level and winds around the hills rather than climbing up them. We spend a while looking down on kites soaring in the valley below, and even further down we are looking at the top of clouds. Mcleodganj really does seem to defy gravity, perched as it is on the steep sides of the mountains.

Our walk takes us to Baghsu which is the starting point for some treks into the mountains.  We don't really have the time or the kit for serious walking and we definitely don't trust the weather. Our friend V did  one of the treks around here called the Triund Trek on which a dog acts as a guide. We pass a place called Triund View from where we can see a steep path leading up into the clouds. We start to think about lunch but Baghsu is suffering a power cut so we take a fifty rupee auto ride back to Main Square in McL and head back to the Tibetan Kitchen. R has Silky Noodle Veg soup while D goes for Veg Mukthuk, a soup with green veg (pak choi?) and momo like pasta parcels in it. There is a long wait but it is worth it.

Our plan for the afternoon is to visit the Tibetan Museum and the big temple before taking coffee and cake. This cold weather has certainly upped our calorie intake. We get to the museum just as the rain starts. The museum is basically an exhibition of photographs and highlights the plight of the Tibetan people and their culture. From here it is just a few steps on to the temple which is packed with chanting monks. There are people busily decorating the place with flower garlands as there is a big event tomorrow in honour of the Dalai Lama. Inside the temple is shoes off, no photos which means we cannot post a picture of the shrines with the offerings of packets of biscuits and breakfast cereals.

The weather has become more threatening and we take shelter in a cafe as there is a thunderstorm followed by a shower of sleet. Our taxi driver, Tensing, phones to ask that we leave earlier because of the weather so we go back to pick up our bags. When Tensing arrives it is with another guy and we are told this is a friend who will drive us, same price. Eventually we work it out. The friend has Punjab plates on his car and must have had a fare earlier in the day in the opposite direction.  He now gets paid something for his return trip and T gets something for doing not much. The short road down to Dharamsala is jammed solid so after about 45 minutes of not much progress our chap turns around and takes the long route.  He drives like a maniac but obviously knows the road well and it is not very busy. We stop for supper and still get to Pathankot ststion in good time.

Train 14036 is at the platform waiting and we can board right away.  The 1AC coach is the most dilapidated that we have seen. It can't have had a thorough clean since Nehru was Prime Minister. We have the coupe. In fact there are no other paying passengers in 1AC so the cabins are occupied by various members of the train crew.  We leave on time at 23.20.

Monday 2nd Pt 2 - D's other day out.

A taxi is booked for 5 a.m so it's a 4.40 alarm for D. The cab is booked to take him to the nearest station on the Kangra Valley NG line and then pick him up from the terminus. The weather is still filthy but the taxi is there so no backing down. A quick check that the driver has the correct brief and we are off through the wet, deserted streets. With no traffic progress is good and the roads don't seem quite so bad. The driver is originally from Nepal, is called Tensing and is keen to practice his English which is pretty good. He is of the view that the weather down below will be better.

T is a better driver than weather forecaster. We arrive well before the train is due and T explains that the booking clerks are not drivers and always allow too much time. We sit in the car listening to the rain and discuss NG railways. He is surprised to learn that there are different gauges and that the Darjeeling railway has even narrower track than this one. About twenty minutes before train time we set out down a track, across a rickety suspension bridge that is lit only by one dim lamp at the far end and then up another track to Kangra Mandir station. We enter via a waiting hall that is deserted apart from a few sleeping dogs. The booking window is firmly shut but the chai stall on the platform is manned and a glass of hot drink is most welcome. At least there is a roof over this part of the platform to keep the rain off. Tensing goes back to the car to make sure that he does not get blocked in and D will phone him when the train leaves.

It slowly gets lighter and a couple of other passengers arrive. Train time comes and goes and the ticket window stays shut. About twenty minutes after train time a man appears and unlocks the station master's office. D enquires about tickets and is told that there is a line block, train ended at last station. His English is almost as bad as D's Hindi. Quick rethink.  Perhaps take a short trip in the opposite direction instead. D phones T to announce the change of plan. No problem. By now it is fully light and D can see the bridge that he crossed in darkness. Nothing for it but back across.

T knows the roads and gets us to the main Kangra station. This time he comes to the booking office to act as translator. Here the story is that the train is running but is late so a ticket is bought. A few minutes later a hooter sounds and the train arrives, about 45 minutes late. D picks a coach near the back where there is an empty seating bay. The rain is still heavy so door riding is out and opening a window soon results in a wet arm. A couple of people speak English and ask D what he is doing. They obviously don't think much of the idea of photographing railways in the rain but are too polite to say so.

The scenery is interesting rather than spectacular and at times the countryside is quite flat, although we keep returning to hilly sections. At one wayside station there is a very long wait for an inbound train to cross.  Not every station has a passing loop on this line and our late running has thrown the scheduled crossings out of the window. By the time that we get going again we are an hour and forty minutes late. There is one more major halt,  Baijnath Paprola, before the terminus at Joginder Nagar. Here the train undergoes some unusual shunting movements,  involving a second loco and all but three of the train's coaches being left on a siding over an inspection pit. The few remaining local pasengers seem to view this as routine. D finds the idea of shunting coaches containing pasengers rather novel. Whatever would the board of trade say.  D gets thoroughly soaked trying to photograph all of this.

At this point Tensing appears and it is decided to skip the last section and instead head for the large viaduct south of Kangra and with luck get a shot of a train crossing. On the way there are stops for a few shots of interesting bridges and at  roadside dhaba for aloo parathas and chai, very warming. At the big bridge we wait an hour but see no train so we pack up and drive back up the hill to McL. Not a totally successful outing but at least D got one train ride.

Back in Mcleodganj the streets are running with water. R is relaxing over a cup of tea, having had a day out shopping and sightseeing in the rain. D has a hot shower and a change of  clothes before we head out to eat. We opt for The Tibetan Kitchen where we ask our waiter for recommendations that are not momos. We have Lamb Alu Phingsha, Dry Fried Beans and Tingmo, which is steamed bread. The food is delicious and we forget to take photos as we are so hungry. Two Austrian ladies, mother and daughter, are seated at our table and so like the look of our food that they order the same. On tomorrow's shopping list a Tibetan cookbook. They are good company and we chat about Indian experiences until the next restaurant need our table.

Outside it is still raining but not so hard. We treat ourselves to a nightcap before turning in.