Magic Carpet Ride by Corinne Goertzen
Magic Carpet Ride
By Corinne Goertzen
“You’re going to need this at some point.” Attached to the e-mail was a discount voucher for SpiceJet and the somewhat ominous warning, “Make sure you make a train reservation out of Delhi online before you leave home. Trust me.”
A month later, and the night before my flight to India, I stumbled home from Halloween partying and tried to book my train ticket online. I was unable to connect.
I decided to try again when I reached Hong Kong but after befriending a stranded traveller, we toured the Peak and wandered the tantalizing night market with its astounding variety of food (live fish, pig’s heads and turtles) then trinkets, clothes and array of souvenirs (from mahogany chopsticks to turtle shell fans) and ticket booking did not make the itinerary.
Before you can say maderchod I found myself in Delhi without a train reservation.
“Where are you wanting to go?” asked the smiling owner of the room I was renting.
“Agra,” I answered.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“This is not likely. By which I mean,” he continued serenely, “impossible.”
Not possible? It’s not possible that it’s not possible, I thought with the naive hubris of a girl who fancies herself well travelled. I set out for downtown Delhi. Stepping out of the subway station I was immediately disarmed by the staggering heat and a mob of touts.
For three hours I was chased around the steaming concrete jungle by unsavoury men before I finally acquiesced and followed one into a travel agency. He assured me the agent would be the only one able to secure me a seat on the train.
After counting to ten I slipped back outside, determined to speak directly to a railway employee. But the tout lay in wait.
“Done already?” he asked accusingly.
“Yes,” I lied.
I started down the block while he dialled his cell. He chased after me.
“Wait! You didn’t get one, come back here!”
Every time I approached the train station I would be intercepted by a tout insisting I couldn’t get a train ticket at the station. Each, in turn, would lead me to a different travel agency where I was told the only way to get to Agra was on a USD $400 tour. I am an independent traveller. I don’t do tours and I definitely don’t pay a half month’s rent to be at the mercy of someone else's schedule.
Four hours later, succumbing to heat, dehydration, and jet lag I admitted defeat. I took the subway back to my lodgings and paid for another night.
I woke early the following morning and stubbornly headed back to the chaos of downtown Delhi. By early afternoon I’d made four attempts to breech the well guarded railway station. One attempt was successful but I was immediately pushed back outside by a tout I thought I’d outwitted two hours earlier. This time, when he insisted I go to his travel agent, I submitted.
“Chai, madam?”
I nodded and collapsed into the chair offered by the agent who looked like a Bollywood leading man. I needed to think and the fan in this dark room was the only relief I’d had all day from the tandoori oven heat of Delhi streets.
I told him I wanted a train ticket to Agra to see the Taj Mahal.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
He laughed. “This is not possible.” But he picked up his phone to make some calls.
“Ten days is the soonest.”
I shake my head. No good.
“Then I will sell you a tour.”
I shake my head again.
“Maybe you go to Rajasthan?” He suggests, piqued.
I sip my chai.
“Uttar Pradesh?”
Again I shake my head.
“What do you want lady? A magic carpet ride?” He’s exasperated.
I remember the e-mail with the coupon.
“Kashmir?” he sneers.
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“No thanks.” I stand up to go.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to take a magic carpet,” I say on my way out the door.
But there are no planes to Agra. My magic carpet took me to Nepal instead, where I was stranded for the remainder of Diwali. I’ve never seen the Taj Mahal.
Corinne is a Canadian born writer and educator who just completed a year of living abroad in Indonesia. When she's not in the classroom, she spends her time kayaking and plotting to conquer the world one country at a time -Singapore, Thailand and Vietnam are among her most recent forays- and writing about her misadventures along the way.
Corinne’s Tips: Book a train ticket out of Delhi before you leave home. http://www.indianrail.gov.in/
There are only, realistically two points of entry to India/Nepal by ground. One is Sunali. Make sure you time your crossing properly or you will be stranded in Sunali. There is nowhere clean or safe to sleep there. We slept outside between the borders but were eaten alive by mosquitoes. The other border crossing was flooded so I have no good information to share. If you are desperate to get back into India but all the flights are booked for Diwali, visit Nepal airlines in person. You can bribe your way onto business class.
http://www.nepalairlines.com.np/
http://www.spicejet.com/