HILL STATION OR BUST

The heat had become too oppressive. Although I knew it was time for monsoon, it has been mild so far here, and offering little relief from the heat. Oppressive heat and humidity are more than I am physically up for. So, I do what any able resident does this time of year, I head for the hills. The "Hill Stations" offer a somewhat cooler climate and are a common destination for travellers and Indians at this time of year. Even a few days respite feels essential. I'm climbing cliffs, feeding dogs, and feeling dizzy. Plus, I enlisted the aid of a few of the sadhus to continue feeding the dogs, especially the puppies. We'll see how well that works. A few obviously care for them, and already do what they can.

Reports of Dharamsala-McLeod Ganj from fellow travelers are encouraging, and the Dalai Lama may still be there giving public teachings. Plan, done. Actualizing, not so simple. I hear of local buses from Dehra Dun to Dharamsala, totalling about 17 hours of bus rides in oppressive heat on bumpy roads and hard seats; not so appealing. So, I go to a travel agent who tells me there is a train from Rishikesh close to Dharamsala, with a short, convenient bus ride from the train station, with buses waiting at the station. Sounds great.

I arrive at the Rishikesh train station in plenty of time, and ask which platform. Why, the furthest one, of course. I haul my bags up a high flight of stairs to a bridge crossing the train tracks ... (just how high did they think these trains would be I can't help wonder as I keep climbing). I check for my car number and, it's next to the last, all the way down the platform, of course.

I've taken Indian trains before and had quite enjoyable rides. But this one, ... my oh my. The car reeked of urine, among other scents, further enhanced by the heat and humidity. The fan didn't work, and there we were. Me, the only westerner, and one of two women on this car. Finally we take off, close to on time, inching along the tracks, and in two hours we arrive in Haridwar. As Haridwar is about 20 minutes by auto, this gives you an idea of the pace. Lovely sights, including a goat that may have tried his escape along the tracks, and a rescue/ reclamation team in earnest efforts to get him off the tracks. He was happy grazing; he was fine.

At Haridwar, more men board the train. These guys like to stare. It was a long ride, I'm in a sleeper car, with lots of local stops. It only got worse, with one stop for colorfully dressed prostitutes as it soon became obvious, to board for about 10 minutes, a bathroom pit stop for one of my fellow travellers who couldn't make it to the toilet so the floor worked just fine for him, (it did smell like urine, anyway - perhaps in the middle of the night in a dark car he was confused), and an announcement from the conductor that my stop would be at 2:30 a.m., in the middle of nowhere, as it turned out. Huh? Where's my "right by the bus stop, lots of people, buses straight to McLeod Ganj" the travel agent promised me? After a rickshaw ride through dark alleys and bumpy dirt roads the rickshaw driver took me to ... another train station, even smaller than the first. The dark sky was now becoming illuminated by a lightning show. Even the dogs went into hiding. "Bus stop, bus stop" I repeated. "Bus stop, bus stop" he replied. The gentleman that he was, he took my bags out of the rickshaw even though I kept trying to keep them in, and he took off... I looked around, and well, technically, there was one bus, and the guy near it looked Tibetan. My spirits raised -- I must be close!

Undaunted I wheeled my bag over and asked "McLeod Ganj?" "NO! No McLeod!" Ah.
Well, long story short, I eventually made it to Mcleod. The Tibetans are a lovely people, and the dogs here look great compared to Rishikesh. More later, I sense a power outage coming ... as it's started raining. One learns to sense these things...