This is our first experience of being on a sleeper train as we head down south (into the monsoon).We’ve already adopted a very nice Indian family who insisted on feeding Lyvette and had to tuck me up in bed (it is very difficult to put the sheet over you when you’re at the bottom of a 3 tier bunk because it’s impossible to sit up without a) decapitating yourself b) rolling off the bunk into the middle of the isle. I’m on the bottom, with my nose near all the shoes. The guy opposite me (we’re so close that when he yawns I can see his down this windpipe) just sprayed mine and Lyvette’s shoes with deodorant. I’m not sure this is a good sign.

Usually we’re not very good at trains. Last time, armed with our freshly printed tickets we tried chucking some people out of our seats – before we realised we were looking at our ages not our seat numbers. And the time before that we went in ‘general class’ which basically means the first people on get the seats, everyone else just  has to find a way of fitting in the carriage (sometimes people hang on the outside) and it can become a very crowded and uncomfortable affair. We sat outside the toilet on a carriage full of women. Which was fine (it was only a short trip) until the time came to disembark at the final destination. Then all hell broke loose. Basically the entire carriage had to get off the train but the women on the platform wanted to board the train immediately because they wanted the seats. They didn’t allow us off first but insisted on barging their way on instead. Naturally this created a wave of anger from the Exiters which resulted in a full on war between the Exiters and Enterers. The women turned into animals. Fists were flying, people were punching, saris were pulled and myself and Lyvette were white rag dolls in the middle, not quite sure whether we were supposed to be getting on or off the train or if we were expected to join the war and if so who the opposition would be. Should we be punching as well? And if so, who? Should I rip a sari? Maybe I could take somebody out with my backpack…but what if I accidently take out a newly acquired team mate, for example the woman who just taught me to count in Hindi?

Then the baby sailed in through the window holding a chapati.

That was the point at which someone shoved us from behind and we tumbled onto the platform with the 1200 other women who had been in the carriage meant for 16.

That day we were truly educated about general class trains in India.

Ranthambore

The last time we left you we were in the bustling town that is Ranthambore waiting for our tiger safari. Ranthambore did not get any more exciting. The most exciting that happened was that we wrote a blog. We were that excited by the place we even fell asleep on the tiger safari. Numerous times. Only to be woken by a surge of excitement throughout the jeep as the tigers sauntered past the truck posing for photos. This happened quite a few times. It was excellent and so exhilarating we fell asleep. Again*. Life in Ranthambore almost destroyed our souls.

*Note – the tiger safari was actually very good. But do not, I repeat DO NOT go to Ranthambore for any other reason.

Pushkar

It saved us. We loved this place, it was so chilled and had a hippie vibe. This was great as it meant our fringes were accepted (until it rained). Lyvette’s period wasn’t accepted though. She wasn’t allowed in the Brahma Temple because she was menstruating. They didn’t check though – this was reassuring. Our first afternoon in Pushkar there was a storm, which was lovely to watch. It wasn’t so lovely to wade through the aftermath. We’re not entirely sure what we were wading through. All we do know is that Pushkar has a lot of cows roaming the streets and the brown liquid came up to well over the ankles. Luckily we had our disgusting sandals on so people avoided looking at our feet. Plus our fringes drew the attention away from them.

Day 2 involved an overnight camel safari. So Lyvette bought a knife. Like you do.

My main concern (other than Lyvette accidently wielding her knife) was running low on water. We go through water like Indians go through chai, every stop involves buying more water. So we insisted that if we were heading into the desert we needed 10 bottles of water. For sure. The safari man told us we didn’t need that much, but we insisted and assured him we’d drink it all. He bought 2 litre bottles rather than 1 litre. 20 litres of water. That was double what we’d requested but the challenge was on. So off we set with a French friend from Jaipur on Baba, Jimmy and Jonny into the wilderness, waltzing through cricket matches, viewing the sunset and carrying 20 litres of water. I started the water drinking challenge well and had done a litre within half an hour. This didn’t bode well with my bladder. In fact it became quite emotional. So emotional we had to stop and find me a bush, which was great except I was on Jimmy and Jimmy did not like to lie down (which is essential when dismounting a camel) instead he insisted on lying down with his front end and standing up with his back end – not a great combo, especially for me stuck in limbo, bladder full to the brim and half up, half down on a camel that can’t make its mind up. It also made my knee hurt did hanging on to Jimmy, like really hurt. It seemed that this was a regular trick of Jimmy’s this half up half down thing. After that I decided to lay off the water a bit.

We slept in the open that night on beds in the sand, which was pretty cool. I sanitised my hand a lot, Lyvette didn’t use her knife or fly-fit and we fell asleep analysing the stars, before waking up the next day and heading back with 19 litres of water, an empty bladder and camel-riders knee.

After the excitement of the camel safari we went shopping and bought a few more pairs of £1.50 pants (they haven’t ripped at the crotch yet) and decided to head elsewhere.

Jodhpur

We didn’t really like it here. The only reason we went was to zip line off the fort but this was shut because it was too hot. The hostel air conditioning was great but that was about it. We also realised our fringes still hadn’t grown and my new pants had stained the back of my legs brown. This. Is never ideal. Especially combined with the walking action that stems from camel-riders knee.

Udaipur

To get here we took a 7 hour coach journey which wasn’t too bad. If you enjoy rollercoasters. Slightly bumpy but not bad at all really. We managed to sleep quite a lot on the bus. We only woke up every time the driver slammed his brakes on and our faces catapulted into the chairs in front, but apart from that it was uneventful.

Udaipur is supposedly the most romantic place in India. It wasn’t when we arrived. We turned up with burn marks on our foreheads, dodgy haircuts, stained brown legs, camel rides knee, a knife and enough water to quench a drought. We liked it here. We even stayed an extra night in our room that had a sink that smelt of cheese. We really have no idea what that smell was but it was so unbearable we had to brush our teeth in the shower.

One of the highlights in Udaipur was meeting ‘Hairs’ and his wife ‘Thumbs’*. Hairs had the most unbelievable hair sprouting from his ears. It didn’t even come from inside his ears it was from the top bit of cartilage on the outside. Thick, black jets of hair that tickled you whenever you spoke to him. They looked like someone had just stuck them on. He told us he liked it though, it was part of his identity. Obviously we liked him and decided to have a cooking lesson with his wife who had two thumbs. Two actual thumbs coming from one thumb. This is quite common in India. The extra thumb definitely aided her cooking though, she was brilliant and the lesson was great. When we arrived home to our room with the cheesy sink I discussed the evenings events with Lyvette to which she responded “I didn’t see any ear hair or an extra thumb?!” Then I realised: she was too busy fly-fitting to take the details in.

*I don’t think Hairs and Thumbs are their real names.

The following day we went for chai with Hairs and he painted our nail for us. Just one. I got an elephant to ‘wish me good luck and happiness’ and Lyvette got a peacock which symbolises beauty because she ’is beautiful’. I feel like he may have been suggesting that I am ugly and in need of some luck and happiness. My elephant fell off after an hour.
The highlight of this day for me was when we left Hairs to visit a musical fountain and Lyvette asked the guide, in all sincerity, “Does it play Sean Paul?”

So Udaipur was treating us nicely, we spent time chilling by Lake Pichola and meeting new people. Lyvette’s fly fits had become far less frequent, she hadn’t used her knife and our fringes may have grown ever so slightly, we were feeling content. That was until I came back from the ATM and a monkey s**t on my face. I definitely did not need that in my life (monkeys seemingly do not like me). It could have been a bird but I’m blaming the monkeys. I was concerned that I had picked up some sort of life threatening disease that even hand sanitiser couldn’t resolve and burst into the cheesy room begging Lyvette to get the baby wipes out. The following day, because she felt left out Lyvette let a monkey bird excrete on her leg. Out came the baby wipes and hand sanitiser. Our luck got worse as we then discovered that the bucket we had been using to wash our clothes in was the ‘bum bucket’ i.e. the bucket used for washing bums after using the loo.  This was when we realised we’d been in Udaipur too long so we booked our trains to head down to Goa.

That’s where we are now, on our train journey south and our newly adopted Indian family headed up by Pria (the mum) have just left us. There are storms in Mumbai (we have to swap trains there for Goa) so our new family have given us their details in case we get stranded. Lyvette must have mentioned she wanted some earrings as well because Pria decided to get out her suitcase and present Lyvette with some of her own earrings and insisted on putting them in for her. She then wept as we said our emotional goodbyes. I think she always wanted two white daughters who ride camels.

So we’re sat waiting for our stop still willing our fringes to grow, praying the sink in our next room doesn’t smell of cheese and in Lyvette’s case sporting some very snazzy dangly earrings. I am also hoping my legs won’t be dyed brown at our next location and my knees will have recovered from Jimmy’s antics.

Until next time!