Waiting room (Ladies only)

'Aaargh yoo aye lady?' one of the three girls who were all dressed in brown saris asked me when I walked into the waiting room at the station. I had just completed a five-hour train journey in an awful heat, from Abu Road (Mount Abu) to Ahmedabad. I was completely soaked and also shattered. I sat down on the first plastic chair I saw, had a giggle in spite of everything, stroke my hair, laughed very sweetly and replied, 'Yes, I am'. Don't drive me mad, I thought. I took my photo album from my rucksack and opened it on the page where I am dressed in my former 'career woman' outfit, with my rucksack, and look radiantly into the camera. I handed this photograph to the girls. I also made a few Betty Boop movements to convince everyone that I was telling the truth. (You can imagine what I looked like at that moment…). Everyone in the waiting room was then shown the photo album and I immediately made friends with all the women in there.

The next problem I had, was that I couldn't get hold of a ticket for the train from Ahmedabad to Mumbai/Bombay and I was desperate to get there (preferably before the dark, too, because this is how I'd planned it. I had even paid for the reservation! I will never make this mistake again, because what you buy is air. They sell it and hope you will still get on another train).

I had to do something. I walked from desk number one to desk number 19 and back. I had to listen to a complicated story about emergency beds, which sounded too much like the Red Cross and I kept thinking they were taking the mickey. In the end, someone offered to put me on a waiting list for the next train to Mumbai. This train would depart at 5 o'clock in the morning and at half past three I would have to collect my ticket. Goodbye, sweet sleep - but what other options did I have? I did cancel the other reservation and had to pay a 50 cent fine for this. (Wow!)

Disappointed, I walked back to the waiting room. A female student with whom I'd been chatting made a big fuss about this as she could not believe what I had been told. It was half past nine in the evening and the train would depart at ten minutes to ten. What happened next, was a little miracle. She ran off and managed to book a bed in this train for me. I had to pay an extra fee for this, but this is what is known as the 'emergency system': they hold back a few beds until the very last moment, which they then sell for a special price. This price was much lower than what they would have charged me initially, so my female intuition had rescued me once again. The clock kept ticking. I rushed to collect my rucksack from the left luggage depot and had to run to the train. At five past ten I was on it, but without any water. My 'organiser-friend' ran off and returned with two one-litre bottles of ice cold mineral water. I thanked her a hundred times. Then she jumped out of the train which slowly started moving…

How low can you go?

I'd managed to catch my train, but I did not sleep well. The air conditioning made the compartment too cold. When I had got on the train I'd been sweating, but I imagined that frost-flowers would now soon be printed all over my body. At around seven o'clock in the morning I arrived at Mumbai Central Station. I crawled out of the train, stooping because of the stomach and bowel cramps and worrying if this was Mumbai Central or Mumbai CST. I felt more dead than alive, so I didn't take any pictures of the station with its incredible activity of people, some of whom were carrying parcels the size of half a house. You do keep enjoying yourself, even if you don't feel too good physically. The price for using the loo was the equivalent of five guilders. Instead, I went to the waiting room. You are not really allowed in here if you do not have a valid ticket for your journey, but if you put on a few question marks on your forehead and a big smile, you do manage to get in. I had finally found a toilet!

Half an hour later I felt a little revived and went outside. I did not see any buses, so I had to get a taxi (for five guilders… exactly the amount I had just saved!). Of course, I was given the touristy route and had to pay the equivalent of seven guilders and fifty cents, but I didn't give the driver any more than five-fifty. (Come on! I had not asked for a sightseeing trip!). Now all I had to do was find a hotel and I'd be alright again. I walked into a restaurant and talked to two Irish girls there. I had a lovely breakfast (white bread with jam and a pot of tea) and went looking for a hotel. Afterwards, I kept wondering where I'd got the energy from at this stage to negotiate a price, but again I succeeded. An then… it was time for a shower!

Bollywood is the secret of my energy!!!

This is the header of the brochure with information about Bombay (which was officially renamed Mumbai in 1995). And it is true! This city is literally the gateway to India and everything that is western enters the country from here. It is great to be able to eat a sandwich with chicken and cheese again and drink a real orange juice in a quarter-litre pack. A good way to get some new energy. And… for the first time in my life I had lunch at 'The Golden Arch'. Which is really McDonalds. That was tasty again.

The neighbourhood of Colaba in the south of Mumbai is 'the place to be'. All designer shops like Benneton, Adidas, Nike etc. can be found here. It is a painful experience to be walking through this street, past the posh and glossy shop windows, while having to ignore three little beggar children who are walking next to you. It was the first time I got to see this contrast in the blink of an eye. Over here, children are sleeping (naked) between the dogs in the streets. When the shops open, they rise and try to earn a living by begging. The same goes for the adults. Life is tough here, so you walk on by. It is very strange how it does not affect me. I could not change anything about it, however much I'd want to. I am glad that they are not aware of the luxury life I lead in The Netherlands…

From Sunday till Wednesday I spent my time walking around the town, going into shops, markets and even a museum. The Victoria Terminus station is really amazing. That I love trains should be obvious by now, but I am sure everyone will find this beautiful. The architecture is magnificent; when you enter the station you are reminded of the Gare du Nord. For me, that has always been the start of a trip to Paris (and to me, Paris is synonymous with joy), so you can imagine I was enjoying this. I'm having a good time again and have enough new energy now to continue my travels!

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