Travelling To McleodGanj

1.  

We left Goa early on Saturday morning dragging an exhausted Neptune out of bed (he's been playing host, packing Gypsy's stuff for her departure and preparation for monsoon and trying to keep up with his own things). We said our goodbyes to them both before we wound our way along the Anjuna paths out to the Curlies sign where Sebash, their preferred taxi driver, was waiting to take us to Madgaon. It was a couple of hours journey and we arrived in plenty of time to negotiate the ins and outs of catching trains in India without the 'freshmen' look. We boarded without incident and without being ripped off!! We found our seats (two at either end of the carriage) and quickly negotiated with fellow travellers and the train superintendent to swap and change until we had a compartment to ourselves. This compartment unfortunately had no power point and we quickly ran out of computer power which is why we are still behind in our catching you all up to date, but we made it our home for the day - only a 26 hour trip - and enjoyed the journey. It really is an engaging way to travel, snatching a snapshot of peoples lives as we hurtle through their back yards. I am captured by the question of why some people live poverty in one way and why others live it another. From the quaint little woven hut 

and the ornate cowpat stacks to the plastic tent hovels. Some families just slept out in the dry plains with no cover. One tarpaulin slumburb caught my eye with its apparent chaos regulated by rows of satelite dishes ensuring they all had TV to watch!

Once we arrived in Delhi we had to get from Nizamuddin railway station to Old Delhi station. Despite Gerard's total lack of faith in the man who was trying to organise us into our taxi and despite the fact Gerard checked and double checked all the information he tried to tell us we took the ride and ended up at New Delhi station... to be fair to the guy I don't think Gerard in his suspicion showed him our ticket and we certainly couldnt read the difference between the old and new stations but anyhow it was only another twenty minutes in another taxi to get there.

Once there we met up with Nina (whom I havent seen for some thirty odd years) and her friend Judy. We left our bags in the cloak room and went off for lunch. How fortunate we have been on this trip that where ever we go we have an amazing guide.

Nina got us around Delhi in and out of taxis, rickshaws, very snazzy modern subway trains to lunch and then back to her hotel in the Tibetan quarters for a shower and relax. It was great to see Nina after all these years. I used to be good friends with her daughter Joanne (Hi Joanne!!) way back in primary school in Scotland. Once we get to UK we will see Joanne and Nina and maybe even Judy again.

We easily managed the return journey to the station by ourselves, the late night bustle of the train station and the near pick pocketing. We boarded the train to Pathankot, negotiated with fellow passengers until we were all in the same compartment again and then, because we were disembarking early, we went to sleep without unpacking.

Mom's taxi driver picked us up and we began the ascent to the top of the world, leaving the dry plains of India far behind. It is a steep winding climb, green and beautiful with vastly different vegetation from Goa, almost looking like Tasmania. The roads were wider and there seemed to be less rubbish. It took a couple of hours to reach Mcleodganj. Sabu took us as far as a car can drive then grabbed our bags and sprinted up the narrow winding paths to Mom's rooms. Lovely rooms with a beautiful view of Dharamsala, so far below its hard to believe that that is itself high above the rest of India! It was Monday lunchtime and Antionette was arriving to give us our tour of Mcleod.