Sunday 22nd -Train after train after train

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The alarm goes at 4.30. Whose idea was this. Quickly dress and pack the last odds and ends. Down three fights of stairs to the darkened, deserted lobby where we deposit our key. Luckily the night watchman is awake and he unlocks the gate to let us out. A brisk eight minute walk takes us back to the station and as we arrive we hear the unmistakable note of a narrow gauge loco hooter. Our first train of the day is just pulling into the NG platform and crowds are already forming around the Unreserved  coach doors.

This first trip of the day is a bit of a tiddler compared with the one that got us here - six hours and forty minutes and 187 km. Total cost for two Senior Citizens just over £6. The train number is 10002 and it is called the Satpura Express. We have reservations in First Class, the only reservable seats on this train. The coach layout is rather odd. We have seats 1 & 2 which are in a twelve seater saloon. There are a further 4 seats in a type of coupe behind a part screen at the other end of the coach. The seats are like settees down each side of the coach, each marked up to seat three people. There is also a space for luggage and a toilet compartment but no electrical sockets and the fans don't work. D fetches tea and bottled water and takes a few photos but it is still dark. The TTE checks our tickets. What a bobby's job his is. One coach to supervise and free rides on NG trains all day. D is contemplating applying.

We leave on time and the coach is only half full. This lasts as far as the first stop on the outskirts of Jabalpur when all of the rest of the seats get filled. D establishes himself at the open door and is able to switch freely from one side of the train to the other as everbody else seems content to sit. Quite quickly it got lighter and warmer, helped by cups of chai where we stopped to pass northbound trains. As befits an express we did not stop everywhere and there was some rather dextrous exchanging of the single line tokens, attached to big cane hoops, as we passed through some of the smaller stations. Again there have been a lot of major works done for the replacement BG line, including some major bridges and embankments.  At some points the new alignment takes a very separate route to the existing one.

After an hour or so we start to climb through forested hills, seeing some colourful birds such as Indian Rollers and parakeets as we go. At the top of the climb there is a level plateau and we race along at maybe 60km per hour. One northbound train is a bit late at the crossing point but the time is made up and we are soon at Nainpur Junction, the heart of the Satpura Lines system and an NG fan's heaven. Here the 2' 6" lines from Nagpur/Chhindwara, Jabalpur, Mandla Fort and Balaghat join together with not a yard of BG to be seen. We stop here for 10 minutes, time for chai and photos. D suggests that we change our plan, get off the train and spend a week here. R gives a very short answer. 

South of Nainpur we descend through some most attractive country until we arrive on a plain devoted mainly to rice growing. There are oxen ploughing some of fields and monkeys scamper away from the track as the train passes. All too soon we arrive at Balaghat Junction,  the end of the NG line. It used to continue on to Gondia, a further 40km but that section is now BG. D gets the tickets for the trip by multiple unit, 10 rupees each. There are two trains within an hour and quite a crowd waiting. The second train will start from here so we decide to wait rather than trying to get our luggage through the scrum.

Balaghat Station has resident goats and a chai stall so there is enough to amuse R, while D goes in search of photos.  The loco of the Satpura Express has been run round to the other end of the train for the return trip and the crew invite D on board for a look. Time is short as the train is about to leave but he does get a shot of the driver's view. The second local arrives in good time and we get our bags on the racks and secure seats. The seats fill but the train does not get overcrowded.  We are very quickly the centre of attention and it is photo time. What happens to all of these pictures of us? 

One young female feels brave enough to come and chat. She is at college studying maths and her English is not bad. She runs through the questions about where we are from,  what are we doing in India and about our family. In no time flat she is flicking through the photos on R's phone. When those run out she press gangs her sister into making a phone video of a repeat of the question and answer session. Everybody else in our half of the coach watches in breathless silence. She tries to tell R how easy it is to learn Hindi before she and her sister get off at the stop before ours.

The train terminates and R actually manages to persuade the ladies trying to board the train to desist until we have got off with our luggage. Gondia Junction is mainly famous for having the single letter 'G' as its station code. Otherwise it does not look too promising although we do find the Cloak Room which shares premises with the Parcels Office. This facility does not appear to be over used. The lock up cage marked Cloak Room is empty and the form that gets filled in is actually headed 'Way Bill for booking of animals and birds at other than parcel rates'. Paperwork complete, and thebags locked away the man gives us the reassuring news that it is a 24 hour facility. We have around four hours to kill and dragging our rucksacks with us does not appeal in the heat. 

A quick internet search of hotels in Gondia reveals that there is a Taj Gateway hotel on the outskirts of town. This has to be a safe, if pricey option, and we look for an auto. There are none in sight and the cycle rickshaw guys don't understand a word we are saying.  After a few minutes an auto drops somebody off and we go to talk to him. This is not going too well but it does attract a few onlookers who chip in freely. Eventually somebody works out what we want and the crowd turn their attention to negotiating the fare for us. One hundred rupees appears to be the concensus view so we agree. The rickshaw is the most beaten up and decrepit that we have travelled in but it gets us to the Gateway, a modern building in pleasant grounds.

Inside it looks to have been recently refurbished and when we say that we want to eat we are ushered through to the restaurant.  There is one other table which has about a dozen people including some noisy children. We are in no hurry and enjoy the air conditioning and lime sodas while we choose from the menu. The all day choices are not the most exciting but we are hungry and order kati rolls and veg pakora. When they come there are two enormous kati rolls each and we are not too disappointed that the pakora portion is on the mean side. The waiter apologises for the length of time it has taken because it was freshly cooked. We feel like telling him to take as long he likes. When we ask for the bill the manager comes to chat and invites us to sit in the lobby until we need to leave for the train. We take him up on the offer and they ask when we plan to leave so they can call us an auto. As far as we can see we are the only customers. All this with a decent meal for the price of a couple of pub sandwiches. As we leave the staff are preparing for a party.

The auto for the return trip is in slightly better shape and drops us at the foot of the main overbridge. We go to the refreshment stall to buy bottled water and as we watch the various insects on and in the food display cabinet we congratulate ourseves on our dining choice. At the Parcels Office the man tells us "Babu on platform 3. Wait." The Parcels Office appears insect free so we sit down. The man turns up with his keys a few minutes later and we head off for Platform 3 and our third train of the day, number 18237, Chattisgarh Express. Gondia Junction's other notable feature is the Digital Clock with blue figures on Platform 1. Every other platform clock that we have seen is red.

 It is anounced as 10 minutes late and arrives 15 behind time. There is an elderly chap asleep in Cabin B but we cannot manage to sort ourselves out without light. A couple of minutes later another man arrives so the cabin is full. We all fix our beds and our bodies for sleep, lock the door and get settled down when there is a banging at the door. Two of the catering team are demanding admission.  They have hidden their personal kit in the cupboard in our cabin and have come to retrieve it. Once they have gone we get our heads down.  It is about 8.30 pm.