India and Nepal 1987

Darjeeling

Five weeks have flown past, and we're now in Darjeeling, our last port of call in India. Our train trip to Varanasi was uneventful, and Varanasi itself I can dispose of in a few words, mainly derogatory.

We arrived to worse than usual hassle from cycle rickshaw men - one even implied nastily that I expected everything in India to be cheap. We eventually found two auto-rickshaw drivers who said they would take us to Tandon Lodge. Well, they didn't. They took us to a poxy hotel where they would get commission. When we objected, the manager claimed it was the Tandon Lodge, but had just changed its name. We told them what we thought, and that they weren't being paid. We finally walked to the Tandon Lodge, getting there at 5pm, and it was as the girl in Goa had said, quiet with a view over the river. Our double was Rs50; the girls' was Rs30. We had mashed potato and fried egg for tea, and homemade tomato soup, and this is just about all I can find to praise in Varanasi.

Our boat trip up the river at 6am the next day (the 6th) was relaxing, but disappointing because the day was completely overcast, so the light was flat and unsuitable for photographs. We passed all the ghats, and saw people bathing, drinking the water (ech!) and collecting it in little brass pots to take it home. On the way back there was a body at the burning ghats. The cost of the boat was Rs15 each. The boatman, having already doubled his price, asked for baksheesh - we told him to get stuffed.

After breakfast I crashed out, having a relapse of the bug, while the girls set off to Moghulserai, 18km away, to book our tickets to New Jagalpaiguri. They returned hours later in a bad frame of mind, having been told there was no tourist quota, they couldn't reserve seats, and if we wanted to turn up at 6am the next morning we might get seats.

So at 4.30am the next day we crawled out of bed. I had a quick shower, only momentarily interrupted by a rat which zipped out of a hole in the wall, up a pipe and out another hole into the room next door. This was probably the same rat that had been trying to gnaw its way through the brick covering the mousehole next to my bed all night.

We got to the station in the nick of time. It was a steam train to Moghulserai (Rs1) and the trip was quite scenic - with the engine and black smoke silhouetted against the blue dawn. We did get seats, but the train was late and we eventually got into New Jagalpaiguri at 4am yesterday. The journey was made unforgettable for me by a nighttime crossing of the Ganges. The bridge was above a barrier consisting of many gates, and I was blearily looking down from my bunk at the water swirling around, and the flotsam and jetsam, when suddenly I saw a big, pale figure in a froglike pose, and realised with horror that it was a human figure floating face down, turning slowly in the eddy.

At New J.P. we had the bad news that the Toy Train no longer ran to Darjeeling, only to Siliguri Junction, a few minutes away. I believe the problem is a landslip. We took it to Siliguri, which gave us a tantalising glimpse of how lovely the whole trip would have been, and were then fleeced by paying Rs30 each for the bus, the long way round (6 hours) whereas it should have been Rs13 and 3½ hours by following the route of the railway. It also rained on our packs.

The scenery was spectacular though, especially once we were out of the jungle and into the more open tea plantations. The perspectives were dizzying, both up and down. We stopped at 11am for coffee at a place on the India-Nepalese border (no photographs allowed). We eventually got into Darjeeling at 1pm. The last stretch from Ghoom was along the railway route - it's curious the way the line winds backwards and forwards across the road. What a shame it's not running.

Darjeeling Station looks something like this:

The actual terminus runs along a row of tiny shops (presumably just to allow the locomotive to get back to the front of the train). It's all a masterpiece of miniaturisation.

We slogged up to the Youth Hostel where the warden was kind enough to let us use the sitting room since the dorms were full. Rs6 per night so can't complain. And HOT WATER for showers and shaving. Lovely. Afterwards we wandered down to the Himalaya restaurant and had chow mein or fried rice, coffee and toast. After a cosy night tucked up in a Y.H. sleeping bag that might have seen active service on Everest I woke up to Cathy declaring that the view was tremendous and we'd regret it if we didn't wake up. She was right - Kanchenjunga loomed above us, snow-covered and very impressive - far closer and larger than I'd have thought. I'm glad we saw it when we did before the sun drove huge clouds of vapour out of the valleys, which obscured everything.

We walked down the hill and had breakfast in the "Washington" - the best porridge in India, two poached eggs on toast (with chips, gratis), coffee and tea. Then we meandered slowly along to the zoo and Mountaineering Institute (where Cathy and I emulated Seymour and Doreen 22 years ago, posing under the name and the two climbers). The exhibitions were fascinating - photographs of the big names in mountaineering's history, the equipment used, the mountains, a relief map of the Himalayas, stories of the attempts on Everest. A tough breed of men (and women). The Institute seems to be similar to Outward Bound type courses, but running all the way to full Himalayan mountaineering with oxygen, porters, ropes, yaks, you name it.

At the zoo we saw tigers, leopards, a panther, leopard cats, bears and a deer, but unfortunately most had been locked up for the night in tiny cages, and were pacing back and forth looking trapped, and completely unnatural. But nothing can stop a tiger from looking big, powerful and fearsome.

So, here we are, back in the Youth Hostel common room, a big, empty room totally devoid of any atmosphere. Or at least it was, till the lads from Calcutta came in. The atmosphere is now thick with the smell of cheap Indian slop, which gets right up my nose and makes me want to gag. It smells just like the lunch on the Bombay-Agra train. It will be a long time till I have Indian food again.

I've left until last the description of our dinner, so that hopefully I'll go to bed remembering it. Tomato soup, chips, eggs, fluffy pancakes and jam, Chinese tea and surprise, surprise, two glasses of perfect Ovaltine.

6.40am. Up at 5.15 this morning to see the sunrise on Kanchenjunga. Beautiful. It will probably become cloudy again later in the day.

I'm reading "The Statesman" dated 8th October. What a lot we haven't been aware of: India and Pakistan fighting on Sept 23-25 in the Siachen glacier; Pakistan offensives in the area; more people killed in the Punjab; people dying by floods and by terrorist action in the south; China supporting insurgents in the north-east; demonstrations in Llasa. No peace and quiet here. Also something about entry of foreigners to Indian territory, and exit, being via Raxaul in Bihar, Sonauli in U.P. and Raniganj in West Bengal (to/from Nepal?).

On the bus to Siliguri, following the route of the Toy Train. Rs120 Darjeeling-Kathmandu, covering this bus, jeep from Siliguri to the border, then night bus to Kathmandu, E.T.A. 8.30am tomorrow. The Y.H. was only Rs18 for 3 nights, and I got a Darjeeling stamp in my book (first outside Scotland).

Yesterday was a full day - up at 5.15am (as already mentioned) to see dawn on Kanchenjunga, then down to the "Himalaya" for breakfast - porridge, Tibetan bread and honey, coffee and hot lemon. The Tibetan bread was a huge, fluffy lump of batter, like a doughnut, the size of a dinner plate, and an inch thick, smothered in honey - lakes and rivers of honey, with honeyfalls pouring off its flanks. After eating it I could hardly move.

We walked to the Tibetan Refugee Self-Help Centre, then to the chairlift which (you've guessed it) wasn't working. Then on to the Happy Valley Tea Plantation where we saw women picking the leaves, and all the stages of drying, fermenting, grading and packing. The views over the hills were tremendous - hills, then clouds, more hills and so on into the distance.

4pm. At Indian "port of disembarkation" Raniganj. Got here by jeep - Willys, but modified somewhat with a plastic jerrycan at the driver's feet for the fuel tank (much to our alarm, the driver smoked), and a welded steel tube roof. 15 people - 4 in front, 4 in the back seat (us) and 4 behind, plus 2 kids, and the 15th up on the roof together with 6 packs, suitcase, trunk and bags. It's quite peaceful here - out in the country, the sun still warm, birds singing, insects buzzing and a low natter of voices at the checkpoint. The Indian fellow doesn't seem at all worried about currency exchange forms or any of that bumph, so carefully collected and stored.

5pm. We're in a bus at Kakarvita in Nepal, but not the bus. Much confusion over tickets. Anyway, the seats are comfortable, and there's no video, so I think we'll be OK. We leave at 5.30. First happy sight across the border was a Coca-Cola sign, and I had a lovely bottle of Fanta Orange, for Rs2.50 Indian.