Emakulam to Goa

We were dropped at Emakulam train station and it was time to say goodbye to our brilliant driver and Hello to train travel!

We had a 10hr wait for our train so we decided to put our bags in the secure luggage room and have a wander around town.

The luggage stores are great, they are just a small room with shelves stacked with bags and a pasting table blocking the doorway with two women taking details and money and guarding your bags like their life depends upon it. As lovey as they were you wouldn't mess with them so we were happy knowing they were safe.

The station itself was an old building but a bit like a rabbit warren with corridors leading off the long platform with different rooms off them.There are two first class waiting rooms one for women and one for men, they are first class because they are a set back from the platform but all they are is a tiled square space with a few seats either side which leads to the washroom (toilet) at the rear. On the platform there is blocks of stadium seating and each seat was occupied with a queue of 30 deep waiting for a seat to become vacant. Definitely "you move, You lose rules applied". We pushed our way through the crowds and made our way into town.

It was a lively town with people milling everywhere. It was a mix of Old and new. Old colonial buildings mixed in amongst street shacks and stalls towered by modern glass fronted shops and offices. The modern looking buildings are actually old buildings that have been covered in scaffolding and a glass outer shell. Its genius and common in every city in India that we have visited.

Ok so we were hungry, boiling, tired and we'd got time to kill, where could we go?? After walking for what seemed like hours in the searing heat but in fact was about ten minutes we found our haven! It was sparkly clean, air conditioned and served food! Oh we love you ..... PIZZA HUT!? Oh alright not the traditional indian cuisine we had become accustomed to, but we had spicy chicken pizza with chilli flakes!! We happily chatted and ate and drank and ate some more as we tried to stretch out as much time as we could without getting thrown out. We managed about 3 hours pretty good going for fast food!

Eventually the others headed back to the train station and we went to explore. The streets are fascinating and it's much the same in most small towns we've visited. We haven't come across an actual pavement yet, just broken slabs, rubble or stretches of road you just hope for the best along.

Its along these stretches the shopkeeper heirachy begins. There are stalls laid out on the ground some on large clothes some just on tarpaulin each displaying jewellery, silks, scarves, bedspreads, pashmina's wood carvings etc, you name it you will find it on the street then you will also see them fold everything quickly up into the cloth and disapear if the police are coming. Next up are the shoe shines with just a stool and brushes, then it's the cobblers, knife sharpeners and metal workers (who you very often see welding in the street with no mask or gloves.) Higher up in the chain are the entrepreneurs who use an existing shop front that is no longer in use, cover it in bright, colourful fabric and hang bags, clothes and/or rows of flip-flops all around, some go one step further and get themselves a couple of rails, all with same same or variations of. The street food stalls and cigarette stands are next up. Street food is amazing if you choose carefully, there is no food safety or health and hygiene involved. They are perspex fronted carts of varying sizes displaying the "here's one i made earlier" selection. Behind this is a gas bottle and a large hotplate/wok style facility for cooking fresh. It may not sound great but it tastes amazing. We have quickly become addicted to the deep fried potato fritter with mushy peas and chilli sauce on a bap for 11p MMmmmm. The cigarette stalls are much the same as anywhere, a small booth stocked like a mini newsagents with cigarettes, lighters, sweets and bottled water that is sometimes original bottled water and other times recycled bottles filled with water from who knows where? Check the seals and avoid these at all costs!!

After browsing all these stalls and getting mithered, blagged and pitched too we rarely venture into an actual store, but there are the high end businesses with true designer goods and fabulous high priced jewellery. Gold is a massive thing in India!

We strolled along the jetty and through the municipal gardens (another common feaure in a lot of towns) well maintained floral borders lined with trees and seating and the odd homeless person and stray dog, its a country park in a squallid city centre and a nice place to take a breather from the constant hum drum and reflect a little.

Finally we found an internet cafe with air-con and caught up our messages back home before we headed back to the train station for our 6hr wait.

It wasn't hard to spot the gang in the crowds, they had managed to get seats so we each took turns at wandering, sitting, chatting, listening to ipod's, reading and our favourite people watching. Anything to pass the time and avert our eyes from the constant stares.

The station was a hive of activity with trains and crowds coming and going all in a rush to be somewhere. There were many different classes of people from street beggers in rags and bare feet to business people in sharp shirts and trousers using the trains to commute to and from work. There were families taking day trips or doing the school runs all with bags of food and picnic lunches which we were offered to share numerous times and hawkers selling there wares and trying to make enough money to feed their family.

The trains have normally got an engine at the front pulling what seems like a never ending row of carriages (on average around 30) that fill the entire length of the platform with another engine pushing and bringing up the rear, when the train pulls in it's all systems go!

All the passengers are lined up ready to pounce and we would say its harder to get off a train than on one but it's a close call. There is no politeness, no queue system its like a nest of wasps buzzing, pushing, shoving, elbowing focused on their target fighting to get aboard. As this is happening the beggars, chai men and hawkers grab the opportunity to exploit the passengers already on board through the windows. All this happens within a few minutes then the platform is cleared the whistle is blown and a sense of calm is restored! Another unbelievable thing that happens is no-one uses the bridges to cross to the other side and onto opposite platforms. People just jump down onto the tracks, bags in hand and make a run for it sometimes with seconds to spare. There are workers who sweep the tracks and collect all the recyclable materials. As there are no litter bins available rubbish is just dumped on the ground. The stray dogs follow the workers scavenging for food then the crows follow the dogs. It really is amazing to watch.

Under the cover of darkness the dynamic of the station changes, gone are the happy families replaced with unscrupulous characters, the interested stares turn into questioning intent stares. We had been hanging around the station too long not just because the toilet attendants knew us by name and started letting us in for free (yes you have to pay to pee!) but because we were being noticed, watched and even followed especially going outside the station.

We had collected our bags and were ready for action as our train came chugging in. We knew which carriage number was ours so we stood on the platform and counted as the crowds around us gathered, we were just carried along and onto the train it all happened so fast. Luckliy our seats were next to the door so as we extracted a leg from here and an arm from there we sat in our seats and waited for the scrum to clear, completely overwhelmed and looking at eachother in a mild state of shock.

The carriages were each split into compartments separated by a long walkway. On one side the compartments were large each containing six bunk beds in two stacks of three. The other side was two bunk beds. We had this side. The bottom bunk split and made two individual seats so we sat there and getting bumped and knocked. Being by the door wasn't such a god send after all as it was opened into us every ten seconds. Eventually things calmed down and we began to relax a little overcome with exhaustion and a sense of relief.

Each bunk was shut off with a thick blue curtain for privacy so we secured our bags as pillows, snuggled down in our sleeping bags and tried to get a few hours sleep.

Some time later we were woken by a frantic Dan, he had been robbed in his sleep, someone had taken his wallet from his pocket. It was horrible as we quickly realised he would not be getting it back, no-one even wanted to know or help. After much discussion and reassurance and phone calls to and from the bank and parents back home we tried once again to get some sleep but still reeling from it every little noise or murmour alerted us and we only managed to grab another couple of hours.

The train became alive again at around 7am. The staff started bringing breakfast and passengers are getting ready and brushing their teeth starting their daily routine. It was a bit like waking up at summer camp.

We had ordered an omelette for breakfast but we were given 2 veg cutlets, 2 pieces of bread and a pot of strawberry jam on a tray with a cup ready for them to bring the huge urn of tea around. We kept asking for coffee but the staff had such bad attitudes and kept ignoring us until Steve and Mansi kicked off and pointed out it was what we had paid for, we then got coffee and a large water each. Yeah Go team Bailey!!!

After breakfast we watched the world whizz by and tried to get some answers about the missing wallet, Mansi was great she interogated the whole carriage and then made another one of the staff take all the details and search the carriages himself unfortunately it was to no avail. We gathered our things together and prepared for the onslaught of pandemonium as we prepared to disembark.

We pulled into Margao station and pushed and fought our way off the train with a bit of shouting by Steve and an act of kindness from a few locals who held the crowd back long enough for us to get off in one piece.

We stood on the platform Drained, relieved and disheartened but not beaten. We'd done it we survived our first 13 hr train journey and lived to tell the tale.