The next day was a hot one in the Holy city.
We decided to relax and take advantage of the spa, which was highly recommended by our Lonely Travel guidebook. We got massages, which were really quite different to any other massage ever partaken in at home. We also swam and met other travellers. All around a good day. Until...
It was time to leave. We get to the train station, half an hour on time, because we're still silly and punctual, even though nothing is on time in this country. Our train was upwards of two hours late. We waited on the platform in the Varanasi heat for what seemed like forever, and then boarded the train. Everyone pushes! I yelled at a man for pushing me as I was waiting for a woman with two children to board. We then arrived (finally) at our seats. We were riding 3AC which seemed right away, to be a whole different world from the 2AC that we arrived in. We were lucky enough, however, to be sharing out section with 3 Sri Lankan religious pilgrams: a family of two sisters and a husband. One of the women lived in Melbourne.
This was all fine, and we were getting comfortable, until it came time for us to search for blankets. Jon and I went to the back of the train where there was some sort of strange and panicked money exchange occurring. It was really bizarre and we had no idea what to take of it. We decided that maybe they would drop blankets off to us? How wrong we were. Later that night, Cait and Jon went in search of the blankets, and found that they were all being hoarded by a group of Sikh men, who refused even Cait's offers of money for a few blankets. An hour or so later, when the conductor came to check our tickets, I enquired, and his response was, get this: "There are 85 blankets on this train, only." Why?! why in the world were there 85 blankets. Ridiculous. We were really cold that night, as we wrapped ourselves in scarves.
Jonathan, however, had a bunk buddy. The Sri Lankans decided that the top two berths should be occupied by their massive suitcases (they were only travelling for 2 weeks, but people in this part of the world, to generalize, do NOT seem to pack light, and are all amazed by our backpacks). That left 4 berths and 6 people. We were awoken in the middle of the night to "Nononono" as the Sri Lankan man refused Jon's request to move the suitcases and for Jon to sleep there himself. The man had woken Jon up by moving his feet over so that he could sleep on the same berth. Retrospectively, it was really quite funny.
The train was 4 hours late in arriving. We thought it would never get there. But then finally we arrived way north in Delhi. We took the metro and then an auto for the 1.5 hour trip home. The metro is a sight to be seen. It's so urban and cool. However, in typical Indian travelling style, people pile up against the doors, as if they will shut right away- the car of the metro isn't even half full, and they're all pushing against the doors and windows to get out!! As soon as the doors open, people fall and are sprawled across the platform, and basically walked over.
But we finally got home, hungry, tired, and probably smelling terrible. But it was a great experience of a weekend all in all, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything, I just never wish it upon anyone haha.
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