So it was only as the train arrived in Calcutta that I realized just how little I actually knew about the place, apart from that Mother Teresa's a bit of a big deal. Technically I have no excuse after a billion hours we spent travelling there I could've done a bit of homework on the place but train travel makes me sleepy :) Anyway, I figured that with no real expectations there was no chance of being disappointed. And as soon as we pitched up in Calcutta we knew it'd be sweet.

Despite cockroaches, mosquitos and the occaisional rat, train travel has the undeniable asset that every glance out of window brings you a completely different scene so it's hard to get bored... even on a 19hour journey when both our mp3 players break and james decides to sing to keep us entertained. Still feeling disproportionately pleased with our 'achievement' of spending 196 hours in Indian public transport - especially those bad ass overnight trips where i'd spend hours looking ruminatively down from my bed and wondering how possible it would be that the chains would break, causing my bunker to slip and crush james sleeping in the bed below.


We stayed on Sudder Street at Hotel Diplomat in a room with no windows (making the stupid o'clock rises that little bit more of a challenge - as if it wasnt a struggle already) and with a curious 'funky' smell (which we found out on the last day of our stay was james' shirt absolutely covered in mould) - but hell, it cost a mere two quid a night each so mustn't grumble.

Working at Prem Dan was such a privilege and it goes without saying that we gained so much from the experience. We got up at 6 o'clock every morning and headed to the mother house for a cheeky bit of bread and bananas with the rest of the volunteers. Then we all bundled into a bus and headed off to work for the day. Got into a good routine of work so by a couple of days we felt pretty damn confident to guide the newbies and create the allusion that'd we'd been there for years and it was all a stroll in the park for us. James still managed to slice open his finger and lose a serious amount of blood whilst attempting to cut his own hair... I'd have some sympathy if it wasn't the hundredth time he'd managed to stab himself with one of these little knives. Though every day at work things like that were put royally into perspective - it's hard to feel sorry for yourself with a cut finger when you're bandaging an old man with no limbs.

I spent most of our spare time in the land of nod but we also managed to see some sites in the two weeks of our stay - we took a stroll around the Indian Museum for a couple hours one day to get a cheeky doese of culture. James took an interest in the remains of buddhist art from North East India whereas I spent most of the day pinned against a glass cabinet staring in awe at an 8 legged baby goat preserved in a big jam jar. Awesome!

I'm pretty sad to be leaving India because i just love the total crazyness of the place. Nowhere else would it be considered normal to be approached at a bus station by a man dressed only in a loin cloth and face paint, shove a 5foot pole down his throat then stand staring at you for 10minutes with his hand out waiting for some sort of appreciation.

So, despite the fact that he has developed an unhealthy obsession with getting The Perfect Tache which makes him look like a cross between basil fawlty and hitler and is partial to bursting into a chorus of a Sinatra classic at the most inappropriate of situations, i couldnt have asked for a better travel-buddy than James. My only concern is that im going to be lumped with some serious laughter lines in the years to come. But hell, I guess the main thing is that we havent had the urge to bludgeon each other to death with our Lonely Planet books after not being more than 2 metres apart for the past 10 weeks... but there's plenty time for that.

Well, I guess all that remains to say is... Bangkok here we come!

Joanne