“Chai! Chai!” an early morning tea-seller yelled as he walked through the coaches of the train, carrying a huge tin pot of hot tea and small plastic glasses. I turned around on my bunk, drew the sheet up to my nose and tried to get some more sleep. So far, I had slept surprisingly well during my first night in an Indian train: the steady rattling of the rails worked like a lullaby for me; the berth, though not very large, was comfortable. Unfortunately, about four more chai vendors kept me from dozing back to sleep, praising their tea in loud voices. With a sigh, I turned around again and tried to glimpse through the train window: the breaking dawn transformed the sky into a symphony of red and violet. Soon the sun would be out — and this meant that we would reach Agra shortly. The train was supposed to arrive at 6 o’clock and, as opposed to buses, it is likely to keep its timetable. I hence waked José, and we started to open the padlocks from our backpacks, put the few things we had needed for the night back into them, and shoulder their usual weight. Not too soon for, shortly after, the train slowed down and, together with all our belongings, dropped us at Agra Fort.

Travelling in Indian trains made a wonderful change from all the other transports we took during our trip. As you already know, buses — and of course airplanes, but those are mostly uneventful journeys and not worth writing about — were our favourite vehicles in Africa and Southeast Asia. In India, however, an incredibly extensive railway network awaited us and we enthusiastically opted for the rails to cover long distances. Similarly to the bus journeys, our train journeys were a wonderful way to observe the daily life in India and to get a glance at the landscape of the states we went through. I happily rediscovered the pleasures of this means of transport, as I had almost forgotten that travels could be smooth and easy instead of bumpy and uncomfortable. I could read again without getting sick, stand up and walk around if I felt bored of sitting, and even go to a toilet whenever I wanted.

 

At least, that was my first impression when we took the train from Varanasi to Agra. However, for this journey we had booked berths in 2AC class, or second tier air-conditioned sleeper compartment, which is the second best class you can get in an Indian train. (There are ten.) We had a reserved bed with blankets, a lot of space, and only a few — obviously rather rich Indian — passengers shared our coach. All of them were working on their laptops or quietly talking on their smartphones, speaking perfect English and helping us when we had questions. In this calm environment, it was not surprising that I slept quite well during this first night.

Subsequent journeys proved to be quite different, as we bought tickets in cheaper classes.

The most extreme counter-example to the first journey consisted in a (fortunately!) short distance of one hundred kilometers to Jaipur. As we boarded the train, the vehicle was already moving and, charged with all our belongings, we had to jump on the footboard and make our way inside the coach as the train left the station. Naturally, as we were the last ones to get in, all the seats were taken and people were already standing in the corridor. With our bulky backpacks, we tried to get out of the way, finding refuge between two cars… Actually we were standing next the toilets! Yep. You can imagine the smell of Indian train toilets. Luckily, the journey was short, only two hours — speaking in Indian terms, of course. For I think I should go mad if I had to stand all the way between Lausanne and Basel in a Swiss train.

Despite the unfortunate location, we had a good chance to observe life on an Indian train. Most passengers were male, as almost everywhere you go in India; but there were also a few women dressed in colourful sarees, and children playing together. Not only food and drink vendors, but also toy, hairbrush and shoe sellers made their way through the crowd. I first thought that they were mad — but then I saw people who actually bought those things! Crazy India. As the train moved on, we heard the sound of a drum and people singing, and we turned our heads to the surprising sight of a very young girl dancing in the narrow corridor of the train! Her performance was impressive; yet it made me very sad, for this is how the girl earned some money for herself and her family, instead of going to school and having a careless childhood.

By the end of the journey I was feeling sick, and not only because of the toilets’ very bad smell: after the young girl, beggars with amputated limbs passed on the dirty floor next to our feet, asking for rupees not only from us, but from Indians as well. They were mostly ignored. Their misery made my heart ache, and I will never get used to it; nevertheless, poverty is a day-to-day reality in India.

I was very relieved when we finally reached Jaipur and could get off the train. Yet the station, once again, reflected what we had seen in the train: crowds, garbage on the rails and the platforms, people yelling and selling goods. Additionally, cows would lie here and there on the floor and block the passage. This overwhelming chaos sometimes makes travelling in India a nerve-wrecking experience.

However, these were the two most opposite adventures I had in Indian trains. Between those we lived through many more, less extreme and more joyful ones. Chats with Indians or fellow travellers made other journeys companionable, some of the delicious samosas sold in the trains were among the best we tasted in the whole country, and we mostly arrived relaxed and on time at our next destination.

Bonus track