Off the Bucket List- Area 51 and The Extraterrestrial Highway

Area 51. Ever heard of it? Several Hollywood science fiction movie plots have featured this apparently super-secret military installation where all sorts of, well, out-of-the-ordinary experiments are conducted. Because of the US government’s reluctance in providing any information about this facility, it has created numerous conspiracy theories, including some people believing that Area 51 is not just a military base, rather it is a research facility where aliens and extra terrestrial vehicles who happen to visit Earth are captured and researched. This belief further gathered steam with the release of the 1996 hit movie Independence Day. Since then thousands of curious visitors have traveled on the desolate road cutting across this region in the hopes of seeing something paranormal. That’s when the government of Nevada decided to play along and officially renamed the road as The Extraterrestrial Highway. 

Background aside, coming to the point. I have a bucket list of unusual places I want to visit in life, and somewhere at the top of this list was The Extraterrestrial Highway. Recently I had to move from Dallas to San Francisco and decided to detour off the normal route to tick this off my list, and it was so totally worth the extra day. The rugged beauty of this middle-of-nowhere route cannot be expressed in words so I will let the photos do the talking.

To get on to the Extraterrestrial Highway, drive 125 miles north from Las Vegas on US Highway 93 where you will be greeted, in the middle of nowhere, by a badly graffitied signboard signaling the start of the mythical road.

The first sign of something unusual going on at Area 51 is seen here. Driving through the desert on US 93, there is barely any cellphone coverage, with basic 2G data access. I take out my phone at this point and guess what- the great AT&T shows full signal strength with surprise, surprise- 4G data coverage! Unable to believe my eyes, I run a speed test right there, and yes, it’s true!

The first few miles of the highway descend through small hills into the never-ending vastness of Tikaboo Valley. To the left are high mountains behind which lies the elusive Area 51, or as the US Government likes to officially call it- Groom Lake Air Force Base. A few miles into the valley lies a rather strange, but well-known landmark called the Black Mailbox (which, as you can see, is actually white!)

This mailbox lies in absolute remoteness at the intersection of the highway and a dirt road. This dirt road heads straight into Area 51 and is patrolled 24/7 by Special Service agents in pick up trucks. Anyone attempting to drive towards the secret base is detained and the minimum penalty for doing so is a fine of $650. Maximum penalty is indefinite confinement in prison.

The dirt road from ‘Black Mailbox’ point heads straight into Area 51. Proceed on this and you are sure to bump into, what are locally known as the “Cammo Dudes” who’d have a question or two for you. My advice. Don’t go that way. Just don’t.

The only sign of life along the highway are cows. Lots of cows. (Hmm, I wonder if this is where aliens abduct cows?!)

Well, not just cows. There is some human presence too. The sole settlement along the highway is the tiny village of Rachel which has fully milked to its advantage its location and manages to attract thousands of UFO searchers, conspiracy theorists and curious tourists.

Yes, that population figure.

The most prominent landmark in Rachel, and all along the highway is the Little AleInn, a small restaurant that doubles up as a UFO and alien conspiracy theory museum, gift shop and even a small motel for enthusiastic campers who want to scan the night skies for traces of extraterrestrial phenomenon. To complete the experience, there is also a tow truck carrying a salvaged UFO.

Sorry, no valet parking for our inter-planetary guests.

Aliens have a message for dumb earthlings.

Beyond Rachel, its once again vast open plains for as far as the eyes can see, punctuated only by cattle roaming the open ranches. Driving through this landscape can be extremely boring or absolutely fascinating depending on your state of mind.

So during the drive, did I see any paranormal activities or sight any UFOs? Well, not really. Unless you count this-

What is that? I don’t know. The region around Area 51 is restricted airspace, so this can’t be a commercial airliner. Most likely some military planes on a test mission, but as long as we don’t know what it is, it remains an Unidentified Flying Object aka UFO!

Travel Tips: 

There are no fuel stations along the entire length of Extraterrestrial Highway and several miles before and after it, so make sure you fill up before hitting this road

Speed limit along this highway is 70 mph. Vast empty road may look too enticing  but don’t overspeed. Remember this route is constantly patrolled by cops.

In The Footsteps Of The Imperial Mail

It is a fine summer day in 1927. A Peninsular & Oriental Steam Navigation Company’s ship has just arrived at Ballard Pier in Bombay with passengers from England. They alight and ride a horse-drawn buggy to Victoria Terminus, a short distance away, where a cream and brown train of The Great Indian Peninsular Railway with a mighty maroon steam locomotive is ready to take its passengers on a 36 hour journey across the country to Calcutta. This is no ordinary train and these are no ordinary passengers. Each of them has paid eight times the standard rail fare to travel on this train complete with a fine dining restaurant and bedroom suites with individual bathrooms. This is the most luxurious train in the world of its times. This is The Imperial Indian Mail.

Cut to winter of 2012. The British have long disappeared from India. A much shorter and faster route from Mumbai to Kolkata cutting across the central plains has opened long back and almost all trains between the two metros now use that route. The most prestigious train between the two cities is now the newly started non-stop Duronto Express. The luxurious Imperial Indian Mail is long gone but as its last reminder, there still exists a train, nowhere as luxurious as its predecessor, which takes the long circuitous route from Kolkata to Mumbai as it originally existed during the British Raj, taking 37 hours to complete the 2177 km journey passing through six states, stopping at 48 stations along the way, and that’s the train I was going to board- train number 12321 Howrah-Mumbai Mail via Allahabad.

The Imperial Mail route

I arrived at the sprawling Howrah railway station around 20.00 with two friends- RR and VI who were also traveling by the same train but in different coach than me, a little too early for the scheduled 22.00 departure of the Mumbai Mail and one look at the indicator display board confused me. It was showing “12321 Mumbai Mail Dep 01:00 PF 00” At first we ignored it, thinking the indicator might be malfunctioning but a visit to the Enquiry counter revealed what I had feared. The train was indeed scheduled to depart three hours late, and considering we were at the station two hours early, this meant a long five hour wait! Now,Howrahis one humungous station with 23 platforms and hundreds of trains departing throughout the day, so it is always buzzing with activity, but still, five hours is a long time to wait for the journey to start. We found the air-conditioned waiting room on the second floor of the main station building with a giant terrace overlooking the majestic Howrah Bridge, which was good to kill an hour or so.

Yet another friend CG was going to take the Mumbai bound Jnaneshwari Express departing at 23.00 (but reaching seven hours before I reach owing to its routing via the conventional shorter route) so once he arrived at the station, we headed to the big cafeteria in the concourse to grab dinner. Chaos ruled the place. It has a huge variety of food items displayed on the menu but on enquiry it was revealed that only dinner thali and biryani would be available, and for that too one would have to stand in a serpentine queue to first get a coupon and another one to get the actual food. Thankfully a Monginis outlet within the cafeteria serving mini veg pizza and spring rolls came to our rescue.

It was past 22.00 by the time we got our tummy full. CG’s train was to depart from Platform 21 in the so-called New Complex which is an extension of the originalHowrahstation built by the British and lies a long walk away from the main concourse. Having plenty time to kill, we walked all the way to see of CG, our luggage in tow, and back to the main concourse once his train had departed. Now it was time to wait for any announcement for our train. A large part of concourse floor was by now filled with poor passengers taking trains next morning but having no other place to spend the night. Once the last scheduled departure for the night was gone around midnight, the cleaning crews came out for their duty, while we waited, still clueless about the train’s departure time or platform. By 00.30 passengers started getting restless and some of them, including yours truly, started wandering around anxiously. Someone mentioned that the train always departs from Platform 9, and sure enough I saw enormous quantities of parcels and luggage being brought at the end of that platform to load into the Parcel Vans at the end of the train, so we decided to wait there, in anticipation.

At 01.00, the supposed-to-be departure time, an announcement was made in true Indian Railways’ ambiguous style “Mumbai Mail will depart from Platform 9 shortly”. No mention when it will arrive, no mention when it will depart. “Shortly” is all we need to know. By now we had figured out that the incoming train had arrived at 16.45, six hours late, and around 18.00 it had gone for primary maintenance, which takes about seven to eight hours. This means, even if the yard staff worked real hard, the train might be just about getting ready for its journey. In the next half hour, the same announcement as earlier was made about ten times. Still “arriving shortly”. Still no time of departure given. Finally around 01.35 the train was shunted back into the platform and the impatient crowd took no time to board the train. I had a AC 2 tier seat in a composite First AC + AC 2 Tier coach, numbered HA-1. RR and VI had AC 3 tier seats in B-2, two coaches away from me. My coach was a 1997 make vintage which had probably not undergone any overhaul ever since. Since I had booked my favorite Side Lower berth, I would have two windows to myself, out of which one was discolored and dirty. Thankfully the other window was relatively better off. Since this was such an old coach, there were no plug points, so I had to run to RR and VI to grab an empty power outlet in their coach to charge my dying cellphone overnight, before heading back to my seat, making the “bed” and lying down to sleep even before the train can depart. In my semi-sleep state I noticed we pulling out ofHowrahat 01.55am, almost four hours behind schedule.

I had a comfortable night’s sleep thanks to nice thick blankets and a good soft pillow provided and when I woke up we were at what is today probably the weirdest named station in India- Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Gomoh Junction. It was called a decent “Gomoh Junction” named after the town but then a certain influential politician decided to append the freedom fighter’s name to the station while keeping the town’s name intact too. One of the best parts about travel on Indian Railways is the feeling of waking up in a completely unknown place and finding a chai vendor to start off the day.

A quick look at my copy of The Great Indian Railway Atlas revealed the delayed departure was going to be a blessing in disguise for me- instead of crossing it in darkness, the run through Gurpa-Gujhandi ghat (mountain pass) section would now be in soft morning light, so while all other passengers in the coach were still fast asleep, I opened the door and stood braving the cold winter morning wind blowing into my face. Soon the coach attendant came and asked “Kya janaab! Yahaan bahar kyun jhool rahe ho?” (Young man, why are you swinging at the door here?) I told him my desire to photograph the scenic run and that convinced him. He just smiled and went away.

A look inside the coach revealed all other passengers still fast asleep, curtains drawn, so I walked across two coaches to B-2 where RR and VI were already out at the door, occupying the coach attendant’s seat, and I joined them. A vendor from the Pantry car selling breakfast was stopped in his path and we ordered (and ate) our breakfast sitting at the coach attendant’s fold-down berth next to the door (and that means, next to the toilets too!). Others would cringe at this idea, but for us, it was fun, to have breakfast enjoying the cold morning breeze and the run through ruralBiharinto Uttar Pradesh awaiting the next major halt- Gaya Jn. At Gaya, an elderly Buddhist lady alighted from our coach, probably heading to Bodh Gaya where Gautam Buddha attained nirvana, and as soon as she was seen on the platform, a frail and elderly porter (coolie) walked up to her and to our surprise, asked in English “Where you go? Any more luggage inside?” Yes,IndiaShining!

The run after Gaya was smooth and the coach attendant had by now resigned to the fact that these three crazy guys are not going anywhere and made himself comfortable some other place, leaving the door and his fold-down berth for our use. An hour later, we slowed down for the long crawl across the Upper Sone bridge at Dehri-on-Sone. This 3.2 km long bridge, built in 1900 was the longest railway bridge inIndiafor 110 years before the bridge toKochi’s International Container Terminal took over the crown. Even today, the Upper Sone bridge is the longest bridge one can cross as a passenger in a train inIndia, since the other bridge is for freight trains only. The section from Dehri-on-Sone to Mughal Sarai is triple tracked and we had a good run since the slow freight trains were happy to be on their own different track. I peeped into my coach once and in spite of it being close to noon, even now everyone else was sleeping or lying down with all curtains closed. Don’t these people ever feel claustrophobic? So I decided to head back to the door and awaited the sight I badly wanted to see, one of the prime reasons why I took this train- the run through the gigantic Mughal Sarai yard that seems to go on and on for several kilometers. It is said to be the largest railway yard inAsia, and after looking at its expanse, I don’t doubt this claim.

Mughal Sarai, for those who don’t know, is the major railhead for the city of Varanasi, located a few kilometers away on the opposite bank of the Ganga; the famous Dufferin bridge (rechristened Malviya bridge now) that has formed the backdrop for several photos and movies shot in Varanasi connects the two towns. I was hoping to find some delicious authentic food to grab for lunch here but being at the 21^st coach of the train put us way too back from all the food stalls, so I had to settle for the drab and boring lunch provided by the Pantry car. Post lunch I was feeling drowsy so I finally made some good use of the quiet environs of my coach to catch some sleep once we were out of Mughal Sarai, still maintaining the four hour delay we had started off with. At one point I woke up, saw we were crossing Mirzapur, and slept off again. When I woke up we were stationary in the middle of nowhere. A little enquiry revealed we were few kilometers out ofAllahabad and it was 4.30pm, which means the section controllers royally screwed up the once-prestigious Mail’s run between Mughal Sarai and here, adding almost two hours of delay in less than 150 km. Damn!

A couple of more unscheduled halts, a slow crawl over the kilometer long rail-cum-road double decker bridge over the Yamuna and a short parallel race with a freight train later, we pulled in to Allahabad at 17.15, a little over six hours behind schedule. To add to it, I spotted a sparkling new WDP-4B class EMD diesel locomotive standing ready for duty, spoiling my mood further. How? One of the prime reasons I wanted to take the Mail was because it used to be hauled by a pair of classic Alco WDM class diesel locomotives between Allahabad and Itarsi but off late they had instead started assigning it a single “modern” EMD diesel locomotive. I did not like this for two reasons- one, this “upgrade” was actually a downgrade for the Mail, reducing the total hauling power available from 6200hp (2x3100hp) to 4500hp, and two, I get to see truckloads of similar EMD locomotives in the United States, the fun of Indian train journeys is behind classic chugging Alco locos. Anyways, as they say, change is the way of life. The Mail reverses its directions at Allahabad, so the diesel loco was attached behind the last coach (which now became the first coach), the electric loco was detached from the other end, crew changed, train watered and we were out at 17.45, still over six hours behind schedule.

Pulling out ofAllahabad, we crossed the same Yamuna bridge once more, diverted from the line we had just come from, and stopped on a curve at Naini Junction. This station is crossed twice by the Mail, once before going toAllahabadand once after leavingAllahabadbut it stops there only once. Darkness fell little after we left from Naini, so I could not see anything in the entire non-electrified section betweenAllahabadto Itarsi. It was dark but the three of us continued to stay near the open door in B-3. I decided to sit on a small staff seat near the door and my posterior accidentally touched a fire extinguisher cylinder sitting in the corner and activated it. We tried plugging it but it was too late. Within a minute the entire corridor between B-3 and A-1 was filled with foamy white smoke. I ran across the coach and woke up the attendant happily sleeping in his cabinet and informed him about the “accident” and opened all the doors which quickly allowed the smoke to disperse, but the incident left a thin white layer over the floor in the corridor, a tell-tale sign of what had just conspired!

The dinner provided by Pantry Car was again insipid and tasteless and I ended up throwing away half of it. I tried my luck to get something to eat at Shankargarh and Manikpur but both being small-ish stations and my coach now being third from the loco meant we were too far from the food stalls, so I just gave up and decided to sleep, but not before wondering how stark contrast this is from the Imperial Mail of the past that had a well-appointed restaurant car for onboard meals! This night I broke my personal record for longest uninterrupted sleep on a train and woke up directly after ten straight hours of sleep when we were just departing from Khandwa Jn. At around 07.00, means we had maintained our six hour delay through the night. My first instinct was to go to the door and check out who is hauling us now, since we would have had our second loco change at Itarsi sometime in the night, and as expected, an old workhorse WAM-4 from class electric from Itarsi shed was now effortlessly pulling the 24 coach load. Soon we came to an unscheduled stop at a wayside station and the lowly Chhapra-LTT Express overtook us, no respect for the Mail anymore!

We pulled into Bhusaval Jn around 09.30 and the long halt was used to pay a visit to the locomotive and stretch out. In the meantime I realized my cellphone had ran out of juice completely, so I went to RR and VI but the charging point near their seat was being used by other passengers. So now I had to start the treasure hunt in search of an elusive available plug-point! All points in all the AC coaches were occupied, so I walked further ahead into the non-AC section. The non-AC Sleeper coaches have two charging points at one end of the coach, near the door, if present at all. First coach, no plug-points. Next coach, two plug points, both empty, so I happily plug in the phone, but no response. Both were faulty! Walk further ahead. At the next coach finally I found working plug-point, and not just that, also an empty door next to it and enjoy the breeze! I was impressed at the near-absence of any unreserved/ticketless passengers in the non-AC Sleeper coaches. I stood at the door, cellphone in one hand, holding it upright in a way that the charging cable reaches upto the plug point mounted high up, upto Jalgaon and then decided enough of this exercise, back to the confines of AC coach.

The run from Jalgaon to Manmad was through familiar farmlands ofMaharashtraso I decided to join RR and VI inside their coach and indulge in what is also an important part of Indian Railways travels- small talk with fellow travelers about anything and everything. Instead of reaching at teatime, we reached Manmad at lunchtime and not wanting to experiment with Pantry food once more, I grabbed a veg sandwich and mango juice from the station. Since RR and VI were getting off atNasik Roadto take a bus to Pune, all three of us decided to spend the last hour together at the attendant’s berth outside. We pulled intoNasik Roadat 13.45 and RR and VI made their way out as soon as possible to catch their bus while I returned to my original berth, only to realize that my phone had not charged enough in the morning and I need a plug point again! This time luckily in the 3A coach I found one entire bay of six berths empty with a plug point so I decided to make full use of it upto Igatpuri. At Igatpuri it was time for the third loco change of the journey, now the good old WAM-4 giving way to an AC/DC dual power WCAM-3 class electric loco for the last leg into Mumbai.

The halt at Igatpuri was quite long and the passengers were getting impatient by now. I wanted to be at the door for the run through the mountains of Thull Ghat so I waited outside until everyone else had re-boarded. Soon after the train started the coach attendant came to the door, saw me there, I just looked at him and said “Photos”, he probably remembered something from 24 hours ago, smiled and let me stand at the door, even suggesting that there is a “nice bridge ahead”, which I obviously knew! After two fairly long mandatory brake-testing halts we were at Kasara at 15.40 and I told a curious co-passenger that we would be at Kalyan in an hour which he refused to believe. The loco pilot lived up to my expectation and we were at Kalyan’s outer signal at 16.45, but then had to wait fifteen minutes for a platform assignment. I had tickets upto Mumbai CST but I decided to end my journey at this distant suburb of Mumbai and use suburban transport for the remaining journey home, bidding farewell to the train that had been my home for 40 amazing hours.

Plane, Train, Bus, Cab and Walk!

This travelogue traces my journey from Mumbai, India to Blacksburg, Virginia, USA. Date: 25th to 27th Jan, 2011.

The route taken was-

Flight #1: Kuwait Airways flight KU 301 from Mumbai (BOM) to Kuwait (KWI)

Flight #2: Kuwait Airways flight KU 101 from Kuwait (KWI) to New York (JFK) via London Heathrow (LHR)

Plus, New York to Blacksburg, VA by a combination of several means of transport!

* * * * *

As I entered the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport by car, the scene left me stunned- the entire area around airport resembled a huge war zone, buzzing with construction activity even at 2.30am. One look around and you know something really big is going on- the Mumbai airport renovation and upgradation project is under progress on a mammoth scale. With 26th January just around the corner, security was high and the visitor’s lounge at Gate D of International Departures Terminal 2 was closed, so hundreds of passengers and their family and friends had no option but to sit down on the footpaths. Only this time I noticed Mumbai airport, knowingly or unknowingly, has flights to different parts of the world clustered together, and so around my flight to Kuwait, there were flights to Abu Dhabi, Riyadh, Bahrain, Dubai and every possible Gulf city that you can name. As a result, the overall crowd at the airport was also very different than what it is around midnight when the Europe bound flights are clustered. As we waited for check-in to begin, the crowd profile made the airport look like a ST bus depot- one reason why I would not prefer flight via Gulf next time!

I was travelling with my classmate Bharat. After waiting for half an hour on the footpath, we decided it would be better off waiting inside so left for check-in at 3.30am. The check-in was smooth but Immigration had a serpentine queue, which took an hour. The security check was quite chaotic. Having got used to the US system of removing shoes, jackets, belt, mobile phone and putting everything through the X-ray scanner, I was preparing for the same but was stopped. Apperently the Indian system is different- you send your bag and laptop through X-ray scanner but keep wallet, belt and watch on and pass through a metal detector! Duh! Obvious enough, the metal detector beeps for every single passenger! Then a CISF constable manually frisks you and asks to remove all metal objects aside! No idea what the logic behind this is! Completing this rather comical procedure, we were into the gate area by  4:45am for our 6:00am departure. There were boards all around advertising “Free Wi-Fi at CSIA”. I decided to try if this was true. Took out my laptop and connected to CSIA Wi-Fi and then came to know the farce- in order to use the Wi-Fi, you need to SMS a code shown on the screen to some Indian number! What the hell! So, if you are travelling abroad and not carrying your Indian cellphone (true for most passengers), you cannot access Wi-Fi! Dumb!

As we waited at Gate 10, there were announcements of a Nas Air (first time in my life I heard this name!) flight to Riyadh from Gate 14 and some missing passengers. Even after repeated announcements, the missing man was not found and as a result half a dozen CSIA staff ran all around the gate areas, looking at ‘suspicious’ (read: illiterate) passengers and asking them individually which flight they were headed to. As I said, the crowd at this hour consisted of semi-literate labourers flying to Gulf countries to work at construction sites, most of them not knowing English, making life difficult for the airport staff. When the missing passenger was not found even after an hour, two Nas Air air hostesses and stewards also joined the wild goosechase all over the terminal! In the meantime our flight was ready for boarding and the staff announced that only passengers with pink Priority Boarding stickers should come to the gate to board, but who cares! The entire crowd sitting around got up at once and formed a big queue to board! Total ST bus depot environment! The crowd filled in quite quickly and we had a pushback at precisely 06.00am scheduled time.

The plane was a fairly old Airbus A320 with 3-3 seat configuration and no in-flight entertainment, not even the big screens at the center of the cabin! Around an hour after departure, dinner/breakfast whatever you call it was served and after that there was no option but to try and sleep until we reach Kuwait. We started our descend into Kuwait around 7:45am local time and for as far as the eyes could see there was sand and more sand with roads criss-crossing the desert. We landed at Kuwait International Airport at 8:00am and once out of the plane we immediately went to the Kuwait Airways Transit Helpdesk to enquire about our connecting flight. The lady at the counter was talking to a passenger whose flight was delayed and gave him a food coupon and busy in her own world, unknowingly handed over one coupon to me too although my flight was scheduled on time! Bharat suggested we go back to her and ask for one more coupon since we were two passengers but I insisted not to be greedy and enjoy one free coupon! Quickly grabbing sandwich and a cake with the free coupon we went to the gate where the Kuwait-London-New York flight was scheduled. On my previous flight I had noticed that there was hardly any security check at Kuwait airport but this time it was different. The previous day a suicide bomber had attacked Moscow airport so security was extra tightened. Security and boarding took an inordinately long time and just before departure the captain announced what I had already guessed- “I apologise for the delay in boarding. This is due to extra security checks requested by US and UK authorities!”

The Boeing 777-200 for this leg of the flight had individual TV screens for all passengers but how many of those worked, only time would tell. The take-off was over the main city of Kuwait giving some stunning views of the rather large city located with desert on one side and sea coast on the other. The plane had a 3-4-3 seat arrangement. Bharat occupied the window seat, I had the middle seat while a middle-aged Arabic man occupied the aisle seat. An hour into the flight the Arabic man got up and went somewhere, never to return, thus giving us one extra seat to spread out on! By now everyone had tried fiddling with their TV screens and 90% of them did not work. In our row, the screen for window seat worked for some time, the middle screen’s menu was controlled by aisle seat’s control panel (which I realised after an hour!) and vice versa. The middle screen worked but its sound did not, the aisle seat’s sound worked but screen did not! I gave up and rather spend time reading Kuwait Times newspaper which provided entertainment for a couple of hours. After the food was served, which was rather delicious Indian cuisine, I spent the remaining flight figuring out all sorts of different sitting/sleeping/crouching poses possible with two seats at my disposal but found none comfortable. The arrival into Heathrow was through rain clouds, spoiling any chances of seeing London city from air. We were given one hour to get out, pass security and come back to the same plane. From my previous experience at Heathrow I knew the security guys specifically tend to choose brown skinned (Asian) passengers for “random” checks so we ran through the overbridge to be ahead in queue giving enough time to go through the normal security and enhanced security. Luckily this time we were not asked to step aside for extra checks but after completing the security when we went back to our scheduled gate, there was a second security layer to be passed by all passengers. Not just us, our plane, coming from ‘suspicious location’ (Kuwait) was thoroughly frisked, delaying boarding by 20 minutes. Finally we departed at 11.35am local time, 35 minutes behind schedule.

This leg of the flight was also spent in fiddling with non-working TV screen and trying in vain to make the best use of two seats left to myself, but this time for entertainment I had a couple of free magazines and a free copy of The Daily Mail (which is a gossip newspaper like India TV!) which kept me occupied for quite a long time. The food this time had British taste samosas and Arabic taste falafel and dinner later was again pure Indian- paneer mutter, pulao, dal etc with mocha coffee cake. The food was so delicious on all legs it made up for the lacklusture in-flight entertainment. By some stroke of luck, we managed to cut one full hour from the 7 hours flying time and landed at JFK International Airport at 5.25pm local time, 35 minutes before time in spite of starting 35 minutes late!  After experiencing nice weather for a month, it was back to Ice Age with snow scattered all over the airport, but this was just the beginning. More snow adventure was yet to come. The customs, baggage claim and immigration ended swiftly in under an hour. As we were exiting from the terminal, a hefty African-American taxi driver shouted in Hindi- “Sir, gaadi chahiye kya?” What all one has to do to stay ahead of the competition! We went straight to the AirTrain station and took the train to Jamaica station from where we transferred to the Long Island Rail Road (LIRR) train to New York’s Penn station. This gigantic station with tracks spread over three underground levels and dozens of platforms is quite a task to negotiate, especially in evening peak hours. We were to take the 7:35pm NJ Transit train but in spite of it already being 7:25pm, it was not announced which platform it would depart from. Finally the announcement was made at 7:30pm, after which we had to quickly locate the elevator to go down to platform with our luggage and enter the train before the office crowd fills it up. Fortunately it turned out to be an Express service halting only at Secacaus Junction, Newark and New Brunswick, thereby keeping out a lot of daily commuters who alight at other stations, especially Metro Park. Bharat got off at New Brunswick and headed home while I continued upto Trenton from where I changed over to a SEPTA train to reach Philadelphia’s beautiful 30th Street Station at 10:30pm and was picked up by a relative to spend the night at their place.

The next morning, there was unexpected snow and my aunt who was to drop me back to 30th Street station so that I could take a bus to Blacksburg, Virginia, had a hard time driving her car in untreated roads made slippery by rain and snow. What would have otherwise taken 15 minutes took us an hour and as a result the Megabus in which I had my ticket booked left before I could reach its stop! Aunt dropped me at the station and left for work, and I was left to figure out alternatives to head home. Thankfully the station has a huge beautiful concourse to sit and more importantly, Amtrak provides free Wi-fi in the station building without the need to register or have Amtrak tickets! Delta had already cancelled my New York-Roanoke flight due to bad weather and were offering me a flight from New York next day. The sole bus with connection to Blacksburg had also left so it was clear I would have to spend the day in Philadelphia, and more snow was predicted for the night and next day. My aunt, scared from skidding her car thrice earlier in the day told me it would not be possible to drive me back to station next morning if I stay at her place. Just then I realized one of my friend- Sriram stays in Philadelphia quite close to the station. I called him up and he gave me directions to come to his home by taxi, and I reached there while it was still snowing but no so much as to close roads. By evening the snow had stopped and things looked good, but it was the calm before the storm, quite literally. By 6.00pm it started snowing and got heavier by the hour and by midnight, 16 inches of snow had ravaged Philadelphia!

Next morning, Sriram had called for a taxi at 6:45am to take me to the station but with so much snow, no taxi was operating. The city transit buses had also ceased operations. Now there was only one option left- walk! So here we were, out on the snowed out streets of Philadelphia, making our way to the station trudging two bags along. It took us 30 minutes and was quite an exercise. Once at the station, I realised the Megabus service from Philadelphia was cancelled! And now enters the saviour- the huge Schedules indicator of Amtrak at the station concourse showed all services running and ‘On Time’! Immediately I bought a ticket from the counter for the 7.43am Northeast Regional service to Washington DC and waited in peace for its arrival. At 7.50am passengers were asked to go down to the platform and after ten minutes of wait, a 6 coach train completely covered in snow as if it had just played snowfight came in led by a shiny modern HHP-8 engine, with the ting..ting..ting sound of ringing bells. For some reason, even today, even the most modern high speed American trains always enter the station with a constant ringing of a bell on the engine, a practice from the 19th century! I found a window seat next to the empty luggage space, effectively giving me infinite legroom to stretch out and immediately after departure, the train speeded up to over 100 miles per hour, blowing snow from the tracks all around, almost like a mini snowstorm following the train all along!

We had a clinically perfect run until Baltimore and a few minutes after departure from BWI Airport station, the train came to a sudden halt in the middle of nowhere. First I thought it must be a red signal ahead, nothing unusual. But five minutes later, the conductor announced over the speakers in the coach- “Sorry folks. One of the pantographs of our engine has broken and we have lost power. Since the engine has two of those, we will now try getting the other one up and restart the train!” Damn! The most powerful, hi-tech and modern railway engine in America is also not immune to failure! This could not have come at a worse time. The train was scheduled to reach Washington DC at 9:45am and I had an 11:45am bus to take from DC. if I miss that connection I stay stranded in DC for one full day! 15 minutes passed, no luck. Meanwhile a DC bound Acela Express sped past us on the adjacent track, without stopping to help us. Another 20 minutes passed by and another Amtrak train came on the adjacent track, but this one slowed down and stopped right next to our train. The conductor announced after ten minutes- “We are evacuating this train and everyone will transfer to the adjacent train. All passengers are requested to come to the Cafe Car for evacuation!” I picked up my bags and rushed to the Cafe Car which was right next to my coach. They had put two small tables on the snow covered ground and all passengers were to climb down stairs, onto the two small tables and climb up into the Cafe Car of adjacent train. Our rescuer was the Carolinian, heading to Charlotte and had quite a few empty seats to every passenger from our train managed to find one in the new train.

The whole procedure took half an hour and we departed at 10.35am. Now every minute was crucial if I was to make the connection. The conductor announced we would be reaching DC at 11.05am and that made me feel a bit better. After a brief halt at Carrilton, we slowed down and the conductor announced- “We are reaching Washington Union Station. We will have a crew change here. Also, we will change from electric power to diesel power.” The rail-fan in me wanted to wait and see this power change procedure but there was no time. I ran up the concourse and straight to the taxi stand and asked the first available cab to take me to the Megabus bus stop. The driver dropped me there at 11.30am and a long queue of passengers waiting to board the bus to Christiansburg was a happy sight to see! At 12.00pm the hefty African American driver announced- our arrival time in Christiansburg is 4.20pm but I will make sure we are there by 4.00pm latest! Downtown DC to Christiansburg by car takes 4 and half hours without traffic, so I thought the driver was just being overconfident, but it was not to be. In spite of snow-induced traffic on I-66, he cruised through and stopped the bus directly at the stop in Christiansburg at sharp 4.00pm! A friend had come to pick me up from there by car and by 4.30pm I was finally home, after one heck of an adventurous journey!

Delays, Tension and Surprises!

Warning: Long post of a long journey. Impatient souls beware!

This travelogue traces my journey back to Virginia Tech, USA after a three month stay in Mumbai. Date: 12th Aug, 2010.

The route taken was-

Flight #1: Jet Airways Flight 9W228 to Brussels (BRU) from Mumbai (BOM)

Flight #2: Jet Airways Flight 9W228 to Newark (EWR) from Brussels (BRU)

Flight #3: US Airways Flight 4181 to Roanoke (ROA) from New York (LGA)

* * * * *

When I started from home, I was mentally preparing myself for a long boring journey, firstly because I was travelling alone and secondly, because unlike my previous journey where the thought of “Back to Aamchi Mumbai” had kept me excited throughout, this time there was nothing exciting to look forward to. But, destiny had other plans!

At 11.00pm, the Departure area of Mumbai’s Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport was teeming with crowd, as usual. August being the annual “student export” time of the year,  it looked more like a college campus than an airport. The display screens were already showing “Security Started” against Jet Airways flight 9W 228 to Newark/Brussels but I decided to spend some time with the family and waited outside till 11.30pm. As a result, when I eventually entered the check-in gates, there was a serpentine queue of more than 100 passengers ahead of me at the four Jet Airways counters that were catering to all their night departures simultaneously- London, Hong Kong, Johannesburg and my flight, while also dealing with double reservations on overbooked flights! Quite a mess! After a tiring wait of 75 minutes, I managed to check-in my bags at 12.45am. I requested that my carry-on baggage also be checked in and they readily agreed.

The immigration formalities took just 15 minutes but then it was time for another gigantic queue- this time for security. The exercise took 30 minutes and I was finally down in the departure gates area by 1.30am, less than an hour to departure. As I walked the long way towards Gate 15, the signs against my fight changed from “Security” to “Now Boarding” and for the first time, without waiting a single minute at the gate area, I got to walk straight into the aerobridge and I was inside the Airbus A330-200 by 1.45am. I have always got boring co-passengers and was prepared for the same, but this time I was in for a pleasant surprise. A young girl, roughly my age, came searching for seat 29C and before I could react, she asked me if I would exchange my seat to a middle seat in the center four rows ahead so that her male friend could accompany her. I refused to give up my hard-earned window seat and I was almost sure I had pissed her off even before the flight takes off! I tried to save the situation by telling her about my interest in aviation photography and hence the interest in the window seat and some small talk about the destination university, course etc. and hoped it would help ease the tension!

At exactly 2.18am, as scheduled, the captain announced that we had clearance for pushback and after a long taxi to the Kurla end of the main runway, we had a smooth takeoff at 2.25am. I could spot the Western Express Highway, Santa Cruz and Khar stations, S.V. Road and a brief glimpse of the shimmering Bandra-Worli Sea Link before the rain clouds consumed us and it was darkness all around. The dinner (or whatever that can be called) was served around 3.30am and the vegetarian option had chhole with what can be best described as a puri-idli fusion! Taste was delicious, living up to the Jet Airways standards. Finishing the dinner, I browsed the in-flight entertainment and happened to stumble upon an episode of popular Hindi comedy of 1990s – Zabaan Sambhal Ke! I was surprised that I still could sing along the title track even after so many years! After that, I don’t know what came to my mind that I decided to watch the recently released not-so-famous Hindi movie Atithi Tum Kab Jaaoge. The comedy was watchable yet midway through it I slept off, only to wake up and finish it before morning breakfast was served. The vegetarian option had a small masala dosa, upma with sambhar and red chutney alongwith a croissant. The non-veg option with egg omelet and chicken cutlet looked very uninteresting and soggy.  As we had just finished eating, the captain announced commencement of landing procedures for Brussels. I fished out my camera to capture European countryside and my co-passenger Akshata commented, “Hey, that’s a nice camera!” End of a prolonged uncomfortable silence since takeoff!

We landed at Brussels with a loud jerk at 7.29am local time and the captain happily announced his achievement of arriving 21 minutes before schedule! As it always happens in predominantly Indian flights, scores of restless passengers were up and blocking the aisle even before we could taxi our way to the aerobridge! A very long walk through the terminal and a longer queue at the end of it for mandatory security check took 45 minutes and I was back in the gate area of Terminal B by 8.30am. At security I realized I had left my jacket in the plane, so I quickly walked along the moving walkways towards Gate 38 at the extreme end of the terminal where our plane was parked and requested the staff to retrieve it, which they did promptly. Having 40 minutes to boarding, I walked back a long way (moving walkways are uni-directional) to the souvenir shop to buy a few fine Belgian chocolates. Long walk back to Gate 38 and I was told the departure is delayed and would start only by 10.15am. Meanwhile I met a couple of students joining Virginia Tech this Fall and they insisted on taking a walk around the terminal. Long Walk #2! When we returned, we were told that the plane had developed a technical snag and departure was pushed back to 1.00pm!

A few passengers were getting restless and immediately Jet Airways staff, once again proving their excellent customer service, announced that they had meal coupons for everyone which could be used anywhere in the airport terminal to have lunch while the plane is repaired. By now, I had reached a friendly comfort level with Akshata and her male friend, so the five of us decided to go together to explore the food options at the terminal and spend our coupons worth 18 Euros each on some sumptuous meals! Long Walk #3!  As we reached halfway across the terminal, it was announced “Jet Airways passengers for Flight 9W 228 to Newark start boarding immediately!” The prospect of not being able to use the free food coupons left us disappointed for a while but then we realized most of the passengers were anyways busy buying food and would not board the plane anytime soon, so we decided to join the crowd and rushed to a nearby grab and go outlet to make the most of the 18 Euros we had! A long queue meant we could not try the Pizza counter. I just asked a waitress if we were allowed to buy chocolates with the food coupon. She replied, “Yeah take anything, just spare our beer glasses!” and all hell broke loose! More than a dozen passengers attacked the fridge holding a variety of chocolates and picked up all they could in the stipulated amount. The lady at the billing counter happily added muffins and cupcakes worth the amount remaining after the chocolates were billed to complete the 18 Euro limit! Meanwhile Jet Airways representatives kept pleading the passengers to rush back to the aircraft! The scene at the boarding aerobridge was amusing with passengers with plastic bags filled with chocolates and some even with pizza in hand boarding the plane in a hurry!

As everyone settled down, the staff realized we were one passenger short! A series of announcements asking Rucha Sharma to board immediately did not yield any results. The pilot announced with regret that he had ATC clearance for 12.00pm takeoff but that was now gone thanks to the missing passenger! Finally at 12.30pm, Miss Rucha Sharma arrived and got a rousing welcome with the passengers breaking into a spontaneous round of applause and cheering! By now, me and Akshata, who studied at the college opposite mine in Mumbai, started chatting about nostalgia-inducing places in Matunga and in the process, didn’t realize our takeoff was bang over downtown Brussels and missed taking photos of the beautiful city! No regrets though, the sights are all saved in my mental memory! After some time, we tried playing the Multiplayer games on the In-flight entertainment but they were not fun enough. By this time lunch was served, comprising of Veg Jalfrezy, jeera rice, dal tadka, salad, curd and pickle. Post lunch, all cabin lights were turned off and all window shutters closed, creating a very sleep inducing atmosphere. After a long discussion over available movies, Akshata and I narrowed down on Delhi-6 as the choice to watch next. The movie, and the sleepy atmosphere helped pass the next four hours when the airhostesses came out with the snacks. Piping hot Ragda Pattice was exactly what was needed to freshen up now! This was followed by Belgian chocolate ice cream.

By 2.00pm local US time, we were in the airspace around New York and our approach into Newark was such that it gave us a beautiful view of Manhattan skyscrapers and the vast industrial areas on New Jersey side, and this being my third ‘darshan’ of New York city in eight months, I was playing guide to Akshata showing her NYC landmarks from the air. All was going well until we reached an altitude of 400 feet and Expected Time to Landing 00:02 minutes when the pilot suddenly applied full throttle and pulled the aircraft up steeply, gaining altitude and stabilizing it around 3000 feet mark and announced, “Guys, if you were wondering what’s going on, there was a plane on the runway and hence ATC asked us for a go-around!” Tragedy averted! This gave us a second chance to see New York City all over again and Akshata, who had missed the Statue of Liberty the first time, managed to spot it this time, with some help from me. We finally landed safely at 2.45pm local time, 2 hours 15 minutes behind schedule!

The disembarking took 15 minutes and the long queue at the Immigration counters ate up another 30 minutes. Now I was counting every minute as I had a connecting flight to take from LaGuardia, after negotiating peak hour New York traffic to reach there! While we were in the queue, an elderly gentleman from our flight, not knowing English at all, kept walking to wrong areas and after a couple of shouts of “Sir, please wait” yielded no result, the African-American security lady shouted in Hindi- “Kaka, yahaan!” and it worked! Things you need to learn when managing an airport in New Jersey! As I walked down to Baggage Claim after the immigration formalities, I was stopped by a sign that read- “Baggage Carts cost $5” Yes sir, Welcome to USA- the free country where nothing is free!

The baggage had arrived before me so it was a breeze collecting it and walking out to the terminal but a long queue wasted 10 precious minutes in boarding the elevator to go to the ground level for Ground Transportation to LaGuardia. The shuttle arrived at 4.00pm, four passengers including me boarded, and just when I thought we were on our way to LGA, the driver took the shuttle to Terminal A to pick up one more passenger. Out from there he drove back to Terminal B where I had boarded, and picked up one more passenger. By now it was already 4.35pm and I was getting nervous. Finally we took the Pulaski Skyway and into the Holland Tunnel, which surprisingly had very little traffic for that time of the day, and out into downtown Manhattan. The driver knew bylanes across Chinatown and he avoided major traffic to get onto Manhattan Bridge and out into Brooklyn, and there the sprint stopped. He had promised us that we would take the Queens Expressway and not face any more traffic lights but as my luck would have it, an accident had blocked two lanes of the highway and traffic crawled at a snail’s pace. Although my flight was at 7.25pm, I had told the driver it is at 6.30pm and I need to be there by 6.00pm by hook or by crook! A little rash driving in the hopes of a good tip and we did manage to reach US Airways terminal of LaGuardia airport at 5.45pm local time. The check-in counter was empty and I explained to a lady there about me coming from an international flight and hence being allowed two free checked bags and she was extremely co-operative. The process took less than 10 minutes.

I had purchased a can of apple juice from my “free food coupon” at Brussels and I was asked to drink it right there or throw it (I chose the former!) before going into Security. The X-ray scanners showed two strange circular objects in my carry-on baggage and I was asked to step aside for extra scrutiny. The lady inspecting my bags got chatty after I told him about my 24 hour flight and studying at Virginia Tech and the security drill ended up being just a formality with the lady just smiled seeing the two strange objects which were nothing but steel “dabbas” filled with ‘thepla’! Time now- 6:30pm. Knowing it would get late reaching home I decided to grab a pizza from Joey’s and the extremely slow attendant wasted my 20 precious minutes in getting the order done. Time now- 6:50pm.Quickly finishing the dinner, I rushed to Gate 4 for boarding only to be told the flight US 4181 to Roanoke, VA is indefinitely delayed! At 7:15pm, we were asked to move to Gate 2 for boarding. I looked out, there was no plane there! Something fishy! The lady at the gate shooed everyone back to Gate 4! Finally at 7.30pm, we were allowed to step on to the tarmac and board the tiny turboprop DHC Dash-8 plane.

On all my domestic flights by US carriers, I had seen only aged, grumpy females as air-hostesses but Surprise! Surprise! This flight had an extremely cute looking young blonde air-hostess- the types seen only in movies! My co-passenger was a US Airways pilot just relieved off duty and he explained me the orientation of the runways at LGA before dozing off to a much needed sleep. At 7.50pm, our captain announced “Currently we are lined up 14th for takeoff so we are gonna sit here for quite a long time” and as an afterthought added, “Yes, I know Engine Number 1 is not turned on, but I promise I will turn it on before we take off!” Thank you very much! He kept his promise and we took off at 8.15pm making our way across the beautiful gleaming lights of New York City stretching for as far as the eyes could see! An unforgettable sight! The beautiful spectacle was seen for 15 minutes before rain clouds played spoilsport. The “beverage service” in the domestic flight consisted of one glass of either cranberry juice or Coke or Sprite, served free. No other choice, no second servings. Have it or leave it. The toilet in this plane was the smallest I ever saw, measuring no more than 3 feet x 3 feet. No kidding!

Once above the clouds, the entire journey presented a beautiful view of dusk sky lit up in orange, green (yes, first time saw green color of sky!) and deep blue. After an eventful noisy flying of 1 hour or so, we started the descent towards Roanoke and the cabin air pressure was not maintained properly causing severe discomfort and pain in my ears. We landed at a completely deserted Roanoke airport at 10.00pm and the pilot, taking the most advantage of this situation, taxied the plane at full speed across the runway, onto the taxiways, across another runway and a sharp turn onto the tarmac, reminding me of those “F-1” rickshaw drivers in India! The passengers alighted in two minutes flat; I walked up to the terminal and out into the Baggage Claim area where my bags arrived in less than one minute and bingo! From the plane to out of the airport terminal in less than 10 minutes! That was the fastest I have ever been out of any airport! What an end to a long exciting journey!

SAILing Through Ugly Views

This is the first (or rather last in chronological order) in a series of four trip reports covering my four long journeys across India in the Summer of 2010.

Part 1: SAILing Through Ugly Views

(New Delhi to Mumbai by 2952 Up Rajdhani Express)

As we climbed out of the Metro station, one change I observed from my last visit to New Delhi fourteen months ago was that a new station building had come up on Ajmeri Gate side. A little better than boxy looking station structures built these days, it still leaves a lot to be desired from a station building of a country’s capital. A board says there is a “Chalaaymaan Seedhi” (Escalator) but I could not find where it is hidden so we took one of the two Foot Over Bridges that start from the new station building. It was a long walk from Platform-16 to Platform-3 made longer by the fact that the bridge we took terminated at Platform-5 and was connected to another bridge to move to other platforms.

It was at 15.45, 45 minutes prior to its scheduled departure time, that a engine painted in maniac Mamata’s “Duronto” color scheme that she claims to represent her “Maa Maati Maanush” ideology but actually looks as if a dinosaur puked all over it, appeared at a distance bringing in the gleaming red-and-silver LHB rake of the Mumbai Rajdhani Express from the stabling lines to the north of the station. As the engine neared, my dad had a look at it, and commented “Oh God! What happened to this engine?” I just told him, “It has received the blessings of Mamata!” As is the usual custom at New Delhi, (or so I believe since it happened with me on four different occasions at four different platforms and four different trains) the train was brought to an abrupt stop way off the mark from the coach numbers displayed on the indicators. It immediately brought back memories of 4th June 2009, when a similar blunder with Swaraj Express had caught me and my friends in a mini stampede with the girls being groped and one of the team leader’s wallet with the journey tickets being picked in the process. This time it was not that bad since the train was fully reserved and crowd was minimal as no train was scheduled on adjacent platform. The entire crowd on the platform walked back around six coaches and within no time the train was packed to capacity. I walked fast across the coach and planted myself and my backpack on the Side Lower berth before someone else occupies it and asks me to “adjust a bit”. I soon realised it wouldn’t have made a difference since the huge window was covered with ugly SAIL advertisements that made a mess of the view outside. I seriously wonder who was the babu who thought this was a great idea.

Our co-passengers in the berth were two Punjabi families and in true Indian style, relatives numbering twice the travelling passengers had occupied the seats until departure time. At 16.30 without any audible horn or announcement, we slowly pulled out and simultaneously the Ranchi Rajdhani started its journey. We had a parallel run till Tilak Bridge after which the Ranchi Rajdhani veered off to the left. I tried to capture this race on video but thanks to the SAIL ads, it is nothing worth seeing! As we crossed Nizamuddin, a pantry guy came dragging a huge plastic garbage bin filled with bottles of ‘Rail Neer’ and handed one bottle each to the passengers. Soon, evening snacks were served consisting of one half cheese sandwich, a samosa, an incredibly tasty ‘anjeer barfi’ from Haldirams and two toffees with a packed mango drink. As we were having the snacks, a pantry guy handed paper cups to every passenger and another fellow came with thermos flasks of hot water announcing “Ek me se do ban jaaega” and placing them between two seats. The run upto Mathura was not great with many temporary speed restrictions imposed and a couple of unscheduled stops between stations. We took 2 hours and 5 minutes to reach Mathura which I am sure is much more than dictated in the Working Time Table.

After Mathura as darkness fell, there was nothing to look out for. In the meantime, I spotted a ticketless passenger- a medium sized rat running across the aisle and shouted out its presence. This alarmed the passengers and what followed was a ten minute entertainment show of screaming ladies, overenthusiastic uncles trying to catch the rodent and a bunch of passengers cheering them! Nothing materialized out of this exercise and the little fellow disappeared, probably into the AC Hot Buffet Car next door for dinner! During train travels I usually dont engage in much small talk with fellow passengers but with nothing visible outside, I decided to focus on the talks inside. The co-passengers in my bay resembled the typical characters seen in every masala Hindi movie- a bubbly talkative “heroine ki behen/saheli”, a healthy daughter-praising “heroine ki maa”, a “heroine ki mausiji” who agrees to everything the “maa” says and a stern military-disciplined “heroine ke papa” (no, there was no heroine or hero!) who gave a long lecture on the need for military action against Naxalites on the lines of Operation Blue Star, without bothering if anyone is interested in listening to it or not! It turns out the talkative girl at the window seat was a rich Delhi girl used to car travel only, recently married in Mumbai and scared of stepping into the Mumbai locals. The other passengers, including us, managed to convince her that if she has to live in Mumbai, she has to learn local train travel. There is no alternative.

Around 7.30pm, I fell asleep on my Side Lower Berth out of sheer boredom and was woken up an hour later by the Pantry guy with dinner plate in his hands. The vegetarian dinner had a surprisingly edible paneer sabzi with lots of paneer pieces and little else alongwith a watery dal and dry rice that is the epitome of IRCTC’s nationwide consistency. The rotis were hot, and hence edible, thanks to the fact that my coach was right next to the AC Hot Buffet Car. Immediately after dinner, a small cup of icecream (Vanilla and Strawberry mixed) was served and the moment that was consumed, I declared my desire to go off to sleep. The co-passengers agreed unanimously. Nothing brings out the friendly adjusting nature of Indians more than 3 tier sleeper coaches. The Punjabi bride and her mother who had aggresively declared their rights on the Lower Berths when the train departed from Delhi were now ready to take up any berths. The bride gave up her lower berth to the military uncle, I gave my Side Lower to my dad since he hardly sleeps during train journeys and perched myself on to the Upper berth and a few such adjustments later, everyone was off to sleep by 9.30pm, even before the train reached its first scheduled stop- Kota.

When I woke up, we were already around Navsari, so I have no clue what happened in the night. My dad had seen us departing from Surat at 5.40am, which meant we were running around 30 minutes late now. The morning tea with two Marie biscuits was served after Vapi and there was no signs of breakfast till we crossed Dahanu Road. The public address system came to life and played the morning news in Hindi and English followed by an announcement that breakfast will be served soon. Around Boisar we were given plates with two veg cutlets, two slices of bread, butter, jam and packed mango drink. On enquiry, it was revealed that passengers who ask for it can get poha (a Maharashtrian dish) for breakfast instead of cutlets and we immediately asked for a change of packets. As we finished breakfast we were nearing Virar and the passengers were already wondering if the train would halt at Borivali. My dad enquired and found out that out of 72, more than 50 passengers lived in suburbs and wanted to get off at Borivali if possible! I jokingly suggested that everyone contribute Rs 20 each to pay for the Rs 1000 fine and we pull the Emergency Chain at Borivali! Hopes of a Borivali stop were renewed when we crawled down to 10 km/hr at Borivali outer but eventually managed to cross the station at 20 km/hr. We did not pick up speed and came to a complete halt at Kandivali. Our coach being 9th from the loco was partially within platform limits. I peeped out and saw the Malad-Churchgate local was crawling out of Kandivali carshed ahead of us. So, making the most of this opportunity, mom, dad and myself quickly picked up all our luggage, went to the door ahead and got off the train at Kandivali itself, thereby saving ourself the trouble, time and money of going all the way to Mumbai Central in heavy rains and taking a cab all the way back to Malad!

Swades Yatra on a Jet Plane

Warning: Long post of a long journey. Impatient souls beware!

This travelogue traces my first journey back to India after nine months at Virginia Tech, USA. The route taken was-
Flight #1: US Airways Flight 4148 from Roanoke (ROA) to New York (LGA)
Flight #2: Jet Airways Flight 9W227 from Newark (EWR) to Brussels (BRU)
Flight #3: Jet Airways Flight 9W227 from Brussels (BRU) to Mumbai (BOM)

* * * * *

As luck would have it, after 15 days of bright sunshine, it was raining in Blacksburg the morning I woke up to start my journey to India. My roommates were still half asleep when Tracy Kimzey from my International Friendship Host family in Blacksburg came at 8:15am, along with her six children in a Toyota station wagon to drive me down to Roanoke Regional Airport, 40 miles away. The journey along Interstate 81 took approximately 45 minutes and we were at the airport at 9.00am. Tracy’s children wanted to come inside the terminal to see me off, so instead of just dropping me off, she went ahead to find a parking spot as I took my two big bags to the check-in counter.

A huge dark man, like the typical cops we see in Hollywood movies, was behind the counter. I had not weighed my bags before packing and as I put the first bag on the weighing scale, I was praying that it should not exceed the stipulated 50 pounds. By some incredible luck, my bags weighed 46 pounds and 52 pounds, which after a quick shuffling of some chocolates came to 48.5 and 49.5 pounds! Phew! Too close! The guy at the counter, going by the routine rules, told me I have to pay $60 for the two checked-in bags (yes, domestic flights in US charge for first bag too!). After explaining him for 15 minutes that mine was an international ticket with a single PNR number, allowing me two checked bags free on all flights, he finally relented and let the bags in for free.

The terminal at Roanoke Regional Airport is smaller than a typical bus station in India and with just one flight schedules to depart in the next two hours, it was almost deserted. The kids were hoping to see some planes through the glass wall separating tarmac and the terminal building but their hopes were washed away since the only plane standing in the rain was a US Airways 37-seater DHC D-8 turboprop which was to take me to La Guardia airport, New York. The usual security drill- remove all metal articles, remove shoes, remove laptop from bag, put everything through scanner, walk through metal detector was completed in 10 minutes and I had 30 minutes to kill before boarding could begin. Thankfully the tiny airport has free Wi-Fi so the time was spent easily.

The boarding began at 9.45am and since I had the last row seat (9A), I was hoping to walk in first into the plane, but one passenger had a US Airways Privilege Card and he hopped in before me. I asked the airhostess if I could take a photo of the cabin before the crowd entered, and she agreed. The plane had a 2×2 seating with 5 seats on the last row, and I was the only passenger there, having all five seats to myself! This was my first flight in a turboprop plane and I was surprised to find that, contrary to what I had heard, the noise from the propellers was less than that from jet engines in a small regional jet. We were cleared for take-off at 10.05am, 12 minutes before scheduled departure and after a long crawl up to the end of the runway, we took up straight into the low rain clouds, depriving me of any views of the Roanoke valley.

The first one hour offered absolutely no view as we were cruising in zero visibility in the rain clouds (God bless the radar navigation systems!). Contrary to what I had expected from a no-frills domestic flight in USA, the sole aged airhostess announced that drinks will be on the house in the flight. She took out the drinks trolley, and surprisingly, started drinking the first drink herself! Talk of hospitality! I, by now, knew the trick they use of filling up 3/4th glass with ice and little drink, so I requested apple juice without ice. As a result she could not fill up my glass with one can of juice she had opened, and opened another one to fill the glass. Seeing that the can had lot of juice left, she asked me if I would like a second serving, and needless to say what my response was!

The size and quality of ride reminded me of being in a ST bus on a bumpy rural Indian road but an hour later the rain clouds dispersed giving a beautiful clear view of the populated northeast of USA, popularly known as the ‘I-95 corridor’. The first city I spotted from the air was Wilmington, Delaware, followed shortly by sweeping views of downtown Philadelphia and the Philadelphia International Airport. I had checked flight paths online and requested a left side window seat I figured out that the landing approach to La Guardia airport in New York would give a birds-eye view of Manhattan on the left, and I was not disappointed. As we started the descent, first we flew over the gigantic Verrazano Narrows bridge and then came into view, on my left, the oh-so-famous skyline of downtown Manhattan with the Empire State building rising above the other scores of skyscrapers. We had a smooth landing at La Guardia at 11.50am, 23 minutes before schedule.

I was the only one on the flight who had checked baggage, so the baggage claim took less than 15 minutes. The Ground Transportation helpdesk booked me a seat on the shuttle for transfer to Newark Liberty International Airport, and like everything else in New York City, this too is super expensive costing $32. The shuttle was to arrive at 12.45pm and I had 30 minutes to kill, alone, and with no Wi-Fi available. When the shuttle finally arrived, I was the only passenger to board it and the driver was a super-talkative Jamaican who demanded the fare “and whatever tip you may want to give” at the start itself. La Guardia has different terminals for different airlines and after starting from US Airways terminal, we picked up one passenger from Shuttle terminal and one more from Delta terminal. The drive took us through Williamsburg bridge into Manhattan’s (in)famous Chinatown and into Holland Tunnel, finally to the high-speed Pulaski Skyway, reaching Terminal B of Newark Liberty International at 1.50pm. Unlike La Guardia, this airport had free trolleys but the design of the airport is so bad that after loading bags on to the trolley from the car on the road, there is no ramp to take the trolley up onto the sidewalk and into the terminal. So, I had to remove all bags, take the trolley up the sidewalk and load all bags again. Design fail.

As expected, hordes of impatient New Jersey desis had already queued up in front of the Jet Airways check-in counter at 2.00pm itself for the 6.35pm flight! The counter was not even open yet! Instead of joining them, I went to the food court, had a spinach mushroom pizza and strawberry milkshake and went back to the check-in counter at 2.55pm. By this time the counter had opened and the queue had dispersed. I checked in my bags and I was assigned an aisle seat (preferred by most passengers) but I refused and asked for a window seat instead. The lady at the next counter made the change for me and I forgot my passport there. Realizing it in ten seconds helped and I ran back to the counter to collect it before I could get a heart-attack! The security procedure was exactly the same as in Roanoke and completed in 10 minutes, resulting in me walking into the waiting area at the boarding gate at 3.15pm itself, more than 3 hours before the flight!

The waiting area around Gate 54 was filled up quickly with impatient passengers of Jet Airways flight 9W 227 to Mumbai via Brussels. A majority of the passengers were New Jersey – Connecticut based Gujju families and around a dozen odd students travelling alone. Like La Guardia, even Newark Liberty International has no free Wi-Fi, so spending three hours was going to be tough! I looked around until I found a vantage point in the waiting area offering unobstructed view of the landings with a backdrop of Manhattan- perfect for plane photography and I spent around an hour doing that. Later I shifted back to the area where my fight-mates had gathered and found myself sitting among a Gujju family with kids, a Tamil family with kids, a Marathi family with kids and some female Indian students. (their grumpy I-don’t-wanna-talk-to-you attitude confirmed they were Indian!) Guess what’s worse than hearing a Gujju girl talking in English with a fake American accent? TWO Gujju girls talking to each other in fake American accents!

As happens in the case of all flights with sizeable Indian crowd, the impatient junta had already queued up in front of the boarding gate when Jet Airways ground staff came around 5.00pm and requested everyone to sit down. Twice in 10 minutes. At 5.25pm, they announced that passengers travelling with infants and small kids can now board, and almost half the waiting area was up in a long queue! Next was call for executive class passengers and only one American lady turned up. Since my seat was 34K towards the rear of the plane, I was among the first lot of economy class passengers to enter. I had scanned the waiting area and figured out that there were at least nine cute looking Indian girls (all students) on the flight, giving me a 9/216 or 4% probability of getting a nice co-passenger but that was not to be. The Airbus A-330 200 had a 2-4-2 seat configuration and my co-passenger turned out to be a middle-aged talkative Gujju uncle, Indian-born-NJ-settled, more stereotypical than a Karan Johar movie, who later in the flight gave a scare to everyone when he started feeling dizzy (not surprising, since he had downed two glasses of “free” wine) causing the captain to announce at 2.30am that “We have a medical emergency. Are there any doctors on board?”

Unlike my earlier experience on board Delta and US Airways, the Jet Airways air-hostesses were pretty young Indian girls, very friendly and always smiling. Welcome change! We were cleared for taxiing at 6.30pm and when we reached the end of the runway, we were fifth in line for takeoff. Newark Liberty has two parallel runways and one was continuously handling landings while the other was handling takeoffs in quick succession, one almost every 45 seconds. The takeoff finally happened at 6.35pm and a steep accent took us above low level clouds. We took a 180 degree turn over Newark and took a northward route. The captain announced what most passengers already knew- that we would be taking a very northerly route to avoid the ash cloud generated by the Iceland volcano (whose name I can neither pronounce nor spell), resulting in increase in flying time to Brussels from 7 hours 15 minutes to 8 hours 45 minutes.

One of the advantages of flying to India by Jet Airways is that you get a feeling of being in the motherland 18 hours before stepping on Indian soil. Contributing to this is not just the Indian crew and predominantly Indian passengers, but also the in-flight entertainment. Apart from Hindi movies and a huge collection of Hindi songs, there was also a choice to see Tamil and Telugu movies, Malayalam songs and Gujarati plays, not to mention popular Hindi sitcoms. Since we were cruising smoothly at 37,000 feet with nothing apart from the clouds to see, I switched to in-flight entertainment. First on my list was Amitabh Bachchan starrer Paa by the middle of which, dinner was served. The veg option was purely Indian consisting of one roti, plain rice, dal, mixed vegetables in red gravy, salad, pickle and pudding for dessert along with apple juice. The quantity was not that great but the taste was finger-licking delicious. After dinner, tea was served even as most of the passengers had dozed off.

I tried to make good use of the soft pillow and blanket provided to get some sleep but the little legroom of economy class had me trying all different positions (no pun intended) in an attempt to get some sleep. When I woke up from the semi-sleep state we were flying south over Sweden and into Germany, two hours from Brussels and the cabin crew changed the dark mood lighting in the cabin to normal lighting to start breakfast service. Waiting for my turn, I switched to Hindi sitcoms for entertainment, starting with Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai and then Office Office. The breakfast had an extra-large delicious muffin, fresh fruits and orange juice, with an option for tea or coffee to follow. The descent into Brussels was again marred by low level rain clouds giving me my first ever view of Europe only when we were around one minute away from landing, and the scene was as pretty as we have seen in scores of Yashraj movies- a cute little village with a beautiful church in the center and sprawling fields and flower beds. The landing was the smoothest ever I experienced on any flight with no bump or jerk. Two Jet Airways flights were already docked at the aerobridges. Jet Airways has a smart schedule with flights from Newark, JFK and Toronto from the west and Mumbai, Delhi and Madras from the east arriving at Brussels at the same time and departing for the same six cities in two hours, thereby giving passengers eighteen different mix-and-match route options with just six planes! We docked next to them at the huge terminal at 9.25am local time, 1 hour 35 minutes behind schedule.

The moment the plane stopped, everyone hurriedly got up from their seats and blocked the aisles. Discipline is something that never comes to us Indians. It took fifteen minutes for the mess to clear and the last passengers to walk out. We were taken into the transit area, having to cross an extremely long terminal building on a moving walkway and queue up for security check. The same drill performed at Roanoke and Newark was repeated again, with the addition being that we were asked to empty out the contents of hand bag and re-pack. Once this was done, we were asked to head straight to boarding area to take the connecting flight, leaving no time to explore the duty-free shopping at Brussels airport. The huge queue for boarding the Mumbai flight had almost the same passengers that were present at Newark, and naturally, equally impatient as they were earlier. The plane for Brussels-Mumbai leg was an identical Airbus A330-200 as earlier but with a new set of crew.

We were cleared for taxi at 11.15am and after a slow crawl across the tarmac and 15 minutes of agonizingly long wait at the end of the runway, we were cleared for takeoff at 11.35am, 1 hour 25 minutes behind schedule. My co-passenger was still the same New Jersey kaka but now in a much somber mood after the air-hostesses on the earlier flight forced him to eat breakfast and not ask for more wine! As we started heading eastwards over the clouds, I decided to watch a Gujarati play titled “Babo Aavyo Courier Maa” (Baby came by courier) which like most Gujarati plays was hilarious at the start and started getting serious later by the time I was sleepy. The dinner (rather lunch) had the same contents as the one served on the earlier flight but with the red gravy vegetable now replaced by paneer dish in green gravy and the instead of pudding in dessert was now cheesecake. After lunch and hot tea, I went off to sleep and surprisingly, in spite of uncomfortable positions, got a sound sleep for more than three hours.

When I woke up, it was around 9.00pm Indian time and we were flying over Iran, with estimated time of arrival at Mumbai shown as 11.24pm. I decided to end my last round of in-flight entertainment with one episode of our favorite Indian sitcom (which was surprisingly listed under ‘Drama’ instead of ‘Comedy’)- C.I.D.! It was as entertaining as ever but I was disappointed to see this time Daya open the door with a key instead of breaking it! The last meal of the flight was now served and, God bless Jet Airways for this, it was the eternal Mumbai favorite- steaming hot yummy Pav Bhaji with Belgian chocolate ice cream for dessert! What a way to end the flight! End? No wait. At around 10.20pm we crossed Karachi and thanks to clear skies, I got a spectacular view of the city shimmering in lights below and after passing over Bhuj and Bhavnagar, we were nearing Mumbai airspace at 10.50pm with the estimated time of arrival now shown as 11.43pm. This is when the frustration began. The pilots had already dimmed cabin lights in preparation for descent but we did not descend anywhere. Instead the map showed us taking a big round in the sky at 19,000 feet, followed by another and then yet another round at the same spot, awaiting our turn for landing.

At 11.30pm, we finally took eastward path towards Mumbai again but did not descent. After moving closer, we were made to go in circle once more, followed by closing in some more and then one more circle! We had spent 45 minutes hovering over the Arabian Sea before I could see the first view of shining glittering Aamchi Mumbai below. We entered Mumbai over Goregaon-Malad area from the west and instead of preparing for landing, crossed Mumbai city and headed east. We were made to continue until we almost reached Pune and then made to turn around for an east-to-west landing approach. After passing low over the eastern suburbs, we finally touched ground at Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, Mumbai at 12.01am IST, 1 hour 31 minutes delayed. All the aerobridges were occupied, midnight being peak hour at Mumbai airport, and we were berthed at one of the remote bays. After another 15 minutes of discipline-less chaos, I disembarked using a staircase, like we see in the old movies, on to the tarmac where a fleet of buses was waiting to transport us to the terminal.

In spite of the huge crowd, the immigration formalities took less than 10 minutes and it was time for baggage claim. The wait was long and frustrating, taking almost 40 minutes for my bags to appear. The next step was Customs clearance and I walked through Green Channel as I had nothing to declare, but the keen eyes of the person guarding the X-ray scanner fell on a wrist watch in my bag. He asked me “Kaunse brand ka watch hai?” to which I nonchalantly replied “Big Bazaar ka Rs 200 wala hai” and walked away. The arrival area of the newly renovated terminal has an overdose of grey but looked cool nevertheless. I waited to use the washroom where, surprisingly, there was an attendant stationed inside, “welcoming” the users and after they are done with the job, giving them paper napkins to wipe hands and open the dust bin to throw it- a job I think is quite embarrassing and unnecessary. I spotted my dad and mom in the horde of waiting relatives and made a dash to the exit, welcomed by hot humid air of Mumbai and the aroma of Pav Bhaji. Yes, for the benefit of Pav Bhaji craving Mumbaikars, Shiv Sagar has set up an outlet bang outside the arrival gate in the airport premises itself. This is what I call Location WIN!

The ‘Duronto’ Flight

This is the first-hand account of my first ever international flight. Though my journey took me to Roanoke, more interesting is the experience onboard the 17 hour trans-continental “Duronto” (non-stop) flight- Delta 185 from Mumbai, India to Atlanta, USA.

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Warning: The narration is extremely long. Not recommended for the impatient.

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The journey began at Terminal 2, Gate D of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport in Mumbai. The day I took the flight (3rd Aug 2009), there were no less than 50 students booked onboard, and so, another 500 relatives and friends to see them off. At 08:45pm, bidding adieu to the city I grew up in, I entered for my Check-in. The security woman asked me to remove the “belan” from my carry-on baggage and put it in the check-in baggage as they thought it was a “potential security threat” and then at the check in counter, I was asked to give my carry-on bag in check-in too since it was “too big to fit in the cabin”! Duh! What was the need to ask me to open all locks and transfer the poor “belan” from one bag to another if all of them were going in checked baggage! Anyways, happy to see all my 3 bags gone in check-in, I returned to the Waiting Area and spent almost an hour with family and friends. At 10:00pm, I proceeded for Immigration and the process was over in under 2 minutes. Next step- Security. As expected, the police constable there asked me to open my laptop bag (which had everything except a laptop), remove shoes and pretended to frisk me thoroughly. What he did not notice (or object to) was that I had my digital camera with batteries intact and cellphone on (rules do not allow either). While frisking, he asked me why I was going to US and on hearing my reply mumbled, “Yeh sab log MS..MS kehte rehte hai, pata nahi vahaan karne kya jaate hai!“

The escalator from Security leads to the swanky Duty Free area and the Lounges and I was impressed by the look of the entire area. Kudos, MIAL! It was 11:15pm by now and since my flight was re-scheduled for 01:15am, my Boarding would not begin before 12:30am by any chance. So, I waited around and slowly all the fellow Virginia-Tech students from Mumbai and my fellow VJTI buddies going to various universities joined in. The lounge around Gate 15 resembled a college canteen with students all over the place! In true Indian style, around 12am, one by one all DL-185 passengers (mostly students) started gathering near Gate 15 and formed a long queue, inspite of the LCD screen not showing “Boarding Now” sign! Finally a Delta official had to request everyone over the PAS to settle down!

At 12:45am, it was announced that passengers flying by Jet Airways flight to Heathrow can now board from Gate 15! This confused all of us. Eventually they were shifted to Gate 16 and without any announcements, Delta started Boarding for DL-185 from Gate 15! At 01:25am, the aerobridge was opened and after another round of bag-checking, I was finally inside the Boeing 777-200 LR, the aircraft holding the World Record of having flown 21,500km non-stop once, giving it the capability to travel between virtually ANY two cities in the world without a break!

When I entered almost the entire plane was full and all the overhead luggage racks were full. Though my seat was 46J, a right side window seat, I found place to keep my bag over 50F (4 rows behind me). The other two passengers sitting next to me were a Bengali lady and her teenager son and I had a hard time trying to enter my window seat using the tiny legroom in front of them. The air-hostesses looked as if they were out from an Old Age Home, almost the age of my grandma! I felt bad to see Delta making these old ladies work so hard!

After the mandatory security announcements in English and heavily accented Hindi, the two huge jet engines came to life at 01:55am with a loud sound and we slowly reversed out into the taxiway. Thankfully we were not made to wait and we slowly reached the end of Runway 09-27 and at took off at 02:05am IST taking a very steep ascent route, crossing the Western Express Highway at close to 200 feet height, SV Road even higher, Juhu Beach was crossed in seconds and then it was straight into rain clouds!

The touch-screen in front of my seat had a Moving Map options which traced the real-time flight path onto Google Earth type of satellite image. After take-off we headed straight west over Arabian Sea and eventually made a huge semi-circle avoiding Gujarat continuously and entered Pakistan just west ok Karachi at 03:26am IST. By now everyone, including me, was damn hungry and looking all around the plane to see if any food was being served. At 03:30am IST, dinner was served and the vegetarian option consisted of one small stuffed paratha divided neatly into two, raita, ice-cold salad of “chhole” beans, little rice, little dal, little aloo-bhindi subzee and three tiny papad alongwith a glass of apple juice.

Just as dinner was complete, at 03:50am IST, we hit turbulence for the first time. The plane started shaking as if it was suffering from high fever! I was inside the Washroom when this happened and a warning flashed inside “Return to seat now!” I wonder how! I mean, when you are in the washroom, how can you leave the “job” midway and return to your seat? Within few minutes, at 03:58am, we entered Iran. After this I tried sleeping for some time but inspite of having a soft pillow and a comfortable blanket, I just couldn’t, thanks to the cramped legroom that all airplanes have. I took rest for a couple of hours and at 06:15am IST, when I opened the window, a thin line of gold and orange was seen over the horizon. It was daybreak! We were over Caspian Sea that time. At 06:35am, we entered Russia and continued to fly north-west for long time. In a couple of hours almost all the students were up and awake and started roaming around the length of the plane. At 08:48am, we entered Latvia (yes, there is such a country!) from east and at 09:05am IST, entered the Baltic Sea which appeared as a huge blue carpet under a thin layer of clouds. I now moved out from my seat, walked the length of the aircraft, went upto the kitchen right at the back, picked up some Dairy Milk chocolates and a pathetic tasting coffee. I was joined by Srikrishna, Chayanika and Kunal and we were chatting away right in the middle of the Galley till the air-hostess shooed us away! The entire Economy Class cabin had only four toilets and understandably, the queue to use each of them was huge by now! At 09:45am, we entered Sweden and I was waiting patiently outside the toilet next to Emergency Exit with more people ahead and behind me, reminding me of the queue at public toilets in Dharavi! The person who entered the toilet at 09:45am came out only at 10:15am and by this time we were already over North Atlantic Ocean. I felt like telling him- “Dude, you were shitting over one entire country!”

When I entered the washroom, again we hit turbulence and once again the “Return to Seat now” sign started flashing (which I obviously ignored!) In the meantime breakfast was served and I got mine only when I returned to my seat. There was one veg roll with some crap tasting masala filled in it, one Cup Cake, a banana and a bottle of LMN Lemon Juice. At 11:56am, we entered the Strait of Denmark and the Information Screen was showing statistics which would scare out first-timers- Altitude: 34,002 feet. Speed: 967km/hr, Outside Air Temperature: -57 C, Tail Wind: 172km/hr! By now the sun was very bright and the air-hostess asked everyone to close the windows, apparently because some people were having problems in seeing their movies properly! Yet, me and Chayanika (sitting three rows behind me) kept on opening our windows every few minutes to peep out, getting irritated looks from the air-hostess! At 12:12pm IST, we entered Greenland and from between clouds, we could see sheets of ice spread all over the place. After an hour at 1:28pm IST, we exited Greenland. All this time I was forced to keep windows shut so I tried seeing all sorts of movies from Dostana to Golmaal Returns to Matrix to Madagascar but did not see any for more than 30 minutes, eventually changing over to Live Moving Map every time!

At 2:36pm, we entered Canada from the north at an altitude of 36,001 feet and the outside temperature was -59 C, the lowest I saw during the 17 hours. The Galley area had a tray full of snacks which included Haldiram’s namkeen, baked peanuts, Dairy Milk chocolates and Cookie-Man chocolate cookies out of which the last one got over within no time! After I played a game of Su-doku on the touchscreen, the system just hung up and never re-started till the end. This gave me a good excuse to open my window and start looking out! Finally at 5:10pm IST, we entered USA over Lake Eric. By now almost everyone was bored of watching movies and so many passengers opened their windows that the air-hostess gave up asking everyone to close them. Around 5:20pm IST, we were served the last meal of the trip consisting of steaming hot Upma, a small Masala Dosa, sambar and dahi alongwith a crossiant bread, butter, jam and orange juice. In additioa to this, we had an option of one drink. I chose Cranberry Juice but some students traveling without their parents for the first time took advantage of the liberty and asked for Carlsberg Beer!

At 6:12pm IST, the captain announced that we were beginning our final descent towards Atlanta and the “Seat Belt” sign turning on meant the end of on-board service. All over Atlanta, there were thick white clouds at very low altitude and by the time we crossed them and came below, we were within touching distance of the ground. This denied me the opportunity to see much of Atlanta. I could just see one 12-lane Expressway, one railway track with a freight train on it and before we knew it, we were into airport premises. Hartsfield-Jackson being the huge airport that it is, has four parallel runways that can be used simultaneously and while we were landing on the right-most runway, there was a parallel landing on the adjacent runway, making one amazing sight to see! We touched down at 09:12am Local Time and were made to wait for some 10 minutes for four take-offs to take place from the adjacent runway before we could cross it and enter the Concourse building. After Aerobridge was attached, it took almost 15 minutes for all the passengers to alight. I was under the impression that Atlanta being such a huge and busy airport, it would be crowded and chaotic but it was totally the opposite.

As we walked towards Passport Checking, it seemed as if ours was the only plane that had arrived in the city in hours! There were no other passengers in one entire portion of the terminal demarcated for our flight. At the counter a stern looking African-American officer (like the typical cop we see in Hollywood movies) checked my I-20, asked if I was carrying any food (which I denied), attached the I-94 form to my Visa page on the passport and directed me to Baggage Claims area. The entire process took just ten minutes.

At the Baggage Claim area, there were two carousels where bags from our flight were arriving and it was quite a pain to keep a lookout on both simultaneously. I found one of the big bags on one carousel and two minutes later, another ones on another carousel. Contrary to what we were told, trolleys were FREE at Atlanta so I just loaded all of it into one and took it for Check-In for connecting flight. Since my bags already had ROA as the destination, nothing was asked and the bags were dropped onto a conveyer randomly and we were just praying that they go to the right flight! At the Security Check, we were asked to remove shoes, mobile phone, digital camera, wallet, belt, loose coins (basically every metal) and put it all on X-ray machine. Even the passport was made to go through X-ray, I don’t know why! The entire process was over in ten minutes and relaxed on completing all formalities, we started our usual passtime- photography! First we asked a cop to take our group picture and then as we were proceeding to our terminal for the next flight, we took some more. Hartsfield-Jackson has six Concourses (terminals) and the airport is spread over such a huge area that there is a dedicated underground metro line serving just the airport. Our connecting flight was from Concourse D which was walking distance away and the Airport Metro did not go there. Yet, we decided to take a joyride in it upto the last Concourse!

The Concourse D was a crowded, somewhat cramped terminal with so little sitting space that people were sitting on the floors. I think the Mumbai airport was much better and well-equipped than this. Our flight was scheduled from Gate 27 and the Gate area for the small domestic flights look more like ST depot with one officer standing outside each Gate announcing when the plane would arrive and depart. We were told that our plane was going to arrive a little later than expected “due to heavy traffic” (this happens only in USA!) and so our departure would also be late. I found a payphone to call India but did not have any Quarters to put in it. Thankfully the staff at Starbucks Coffee gave us change (without insisting that we buy comething) and I called up home, costing $1 for a 2 minute call. That was my first dollar spent in USA! There were quite a few US Marines (soldiers) at the Terminal and we even took a few photos with one of them to kill time. Finally at 12:15pm, we were told that our plane has arrived and we can start boarding. We entered the Gate and the aerobridge, instead of taking us to the plane, deposite us on the tarmac and we had to walk down to the little 48-seater plane. The plane was so tiny that at first I thought we were entering some cave (like at Vaishnodevi!). It had a tiny cockpit for 2 pilots, 1 air hostess and 2-by-2 seating, but the seats were comfortable. We had heard that no refreshments are served on these small flights and hence asked the airhostess if we could get water, and she agreed to get some. Meanwhile the pilot announced- “We are a little late in departing but I will try to cover up as much as I can during the flight” (as if he was going to drive an ST bus on a rural highway!).

At 12:45pm, we started moving and slowly went upto the third runway. On the runway, as we were speeding up to take off, another plane just landed on yet another parallel runway (the fourth one!). In the meantime the two runways on other side were continously having simultaneous take-offs and landings. That’s how busy ATL airport is!

Immediately after takeoff we again crossed the layer of low clouds and above it was absolutely clear and sunny. Our route required us to take a complete 180 degree turn out of Atlanta but now nothing could be seen except the clouds. Around 15 minutes into the flight, the airhostess served a glass of Coke and 2 cookies (biscuits) for refreshments. BY the time we were done with it, the captain announced that we were begining our final descent into Roanoke. The weather was absolutely clear and I could see the beautiful Virginia countryside and the city of Roanoke spread all around us. The rate at which we were descending, I thought the runway would be right in front but then I spotted an airport with two runways to my left- at 90 degrees to our flight path! For once I thought it might be some other airport but then our pilot, as if playing a computer game, took a sharp 90 degree turn, with the aircraft inclined at 45 degrees to horizontal and brought it in line with the runway! With a small bump and jerk we landed at the Roanoke Regional Airport. The airport building is very tiny, almost like some small town railway station in India. There are no terminals- one just has to walk up from the tarmac, cross one metal detector and that’s it! The baggage carousels are right near the exit. Here, there was a $3 fee for using the trolleys, but being true Indians that we all are, we decided not to spend that money since the bags would come right at the exit and the bus stop for our bus to Blacksburg was just outside! The luggage came pretty soon and since we were 9 of us going to Virginia Tech, we took turns and dragged all the baggage to the bus stop, eventually saving many a precious dollars! With this ended my 24 hour air journey from Mumbai to Roanoke!

Awesome Threesome

PRELUDE:

This is a three part series of trip reports covering three memorable journeys on three special trains within a span of one week- the August Kranti Rajdhani, the New Delhi-Bhopal Shatabdi and Jaipur-Bandra Garib Rath as a part of my North India tour of December 2008.

Part I: Jerks, Fog and a Surprise!

(Mumbai Central to Nizamuddin by August Kranti Rajdhani Express on 8th Dec, 2008)

Being my first journey on a Rajdhani, I insisted on boarding the August Kranti Rajdhani from Mumbai Central, 30km away from home, inspite of it having a halt at Borivali, mere 5km away. We (mom, dad, uncle, aunt and myself) reached Mumbai Central an hour early at 1635, expecting heavy security check after the 26/11 attacks. But sadly, it was not to be. We alighted on Platform 4 on the Local station and took the Foot Overbridge to Platform 4 of Main station, crossing an unmanned metal detector serving as the sole “security check”. The ever-late Ajmer Express was occupying the platform meant for AK Rajdhani.

After a long wait, finally at 1705 the AK Rajdhani was slowly brought into the platform. Immediately, almost a dozen passengers jumped into the coaches, with baggage et al, even before the rake was brought to a standstill!  Mumbaikars being Mumbaikars, can’t seem to realise that Rajdhani is a fully reserved train and unlike the regular morning local, seats are not to be “caught” on first-come-first-serve basis!

After the “check-in” (finding seats, adjusting the luggage) before settling on my seat, I walked the length of the train to the First AC attached right at the back and requested the TTE at the door to allow me a peep inside which he gladly agreed to. The First AC, I must say looks impressive but only the lucky ones who have actually travelled by it would be able to give a correct picture. I also gave a quick visit to the Washroom which looked quite different from the ones seen on regular trains. I fiddled with all the buttons inside (there is one to pour the water into the container, another one to flush and so on), checked out the branded stainless steel Wash Basin taps, freshened up using the nice smelling liquid soap and returned to my seat, ready for the journey.

At exactly 1740, with a light jerk, we started and just outside the station, a Virar Fast waited for us to take the Down Fast line, with the passengers in the crowded local giving us disgruntled looks for making them wait! As we breezed past the suburban stations at decent speeds, evening snacks were served consisting of a half cheese sandwich, a samosa, a boondi laddoo and a packet of Appy apple juice. A little kiddo boarding from Borivali saw these items on my lap (I was on the very first Side Lower berth from the door) and with worried look, told his mother, “Mummy, sab log ne khana kha bhi liya!”. The mother consoled him with “Beta, humko bhi milega, chalo” and only then he proceeded to his seat.

By the time we departed from Borivali, it was already dark and there was little to see excpet the interiors of the coach reflected in the huge glass windows. It was great fun to see illuminated stations passing by in a jiffy at 120kmph! Dinner was served just before Surat. My dad, just to be a bit experimental, had asked for Veg Jain dinner and the bet paid off well. While all of us got watery Paneer and mixed vegetable gravy, he got a delicious Paneer Mutter! My allotted seat was Side Upper and the person with the Side Lower was going to board from Surat. To avoid “losing” the prized window seat, me and dad spread out our dinner on the Side Lower berth just before Surat and as expected, the young man boarding from Surat agreed to climb up to the Side Upper berth and nod off! By this time, my dad had decided to occupy my “captured” Side Lower berth and I was left with the Middle Berth in the inner bay. The best part about LHB coaches is that the windows are high enough for even the Middle Berth occupant to look out easily while sleeping!

The LHB coaches made sure nobody had a sound sleep. Every now and then, as the we accelerated or braked, there were terrible jerks awaking quite a few passengers every time. The run, I believe must have been good, for we reached Ratlam (again with a big jerk) a full 35 minutes before scheduled time! This meant a 45 minute halt for us with not a soul around on the platform. The departure from Ratlam was with a bigger jerk but I somehow managed to stay put on my berth. By the time we reached Kota, we were running 10 minutes behind schedule and the jerk as we halted at Kota was the biggest of the lot and almost the entire coach woke up from sleep by this. As dawn broke, all I could see around was fog and more fog. Nothing unusual for this time of the year, I thought. At sunrise we reached Sawai Madhopur and I ran out of my coach to get a couple of cups of chai for myself and mom who were tired of drinking the milk powder tea served inside.  The start from Sawai Madhopur was perfect and we soon hit 130kmph for a brief spell before heavy fog slowed us down. And this time, it lasted for long. Really long. Four and half hours to be precise. The visibility all this time was hardly two coaches and I wonder on what logic was the Loco Pilot driving through it! I enquired with the Coach Attendant about the fog situation only to be told- “Maine itna fog last ek saal me nahi dekha!”. What luck!

AK Rajdhani through heavy fog.

At Mathura, for the first time in the day, we got to see the sun and blue sky. The driver decided to make up on lost time and we crossed station after station at 130kmph raising a huge dust storm before we were made to halt for fifteen minutes at Okhla for unknown reasons. Quite a few passengers got down here while the others waited patiently for the last leg. The biggest shocker came at Nizamuddin station where we were put on an under-renovation platform 4 even as other (better) platforms lied vacant! The passengers juggled with their luggage to find a place to put their feet on the uneven platform surface with wet concrete making things worse. A couple of passengers toppled over, few choiciest Punjabi gaalis were blurted out and this marked the end of a rather eventful journey- my first Rajdhani ride!

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Part II: Sarson De Khet @ 150kmph!
(New Delhi to Agra by Bhopal Shatabdi Express on 11th Dec, 2008)

Excited like never before to board India’s fastest train, we started from Hotel Ginger (formerly Rail Yatri Niwas) in the station compound at 0545 to catch the Bhopal Shatabdi departing from New Delhi at 0615. As we climbed up the bridge from Ajmeri Gate (Platform 16) side, I heard the announcement- “Jammu se aanewali Rajdhani Express Platform number 1 par aa rahi hai” and immediately I felt something amiss. After all, Platform 1 is usual departing place for Bhopal Shatabdi. How can Jammu Rajdhani be arriving there? The suspense was broken in a minute as another announcement, this time by an announcer whose nasal voice would give tough competition to a popular Hindi singer, was made- “Bhopal ki aur jaane wali Bhopal Shatabdi Express aaj 6 bajkar 15 minute ki jagah 8 bajkar 15 minute ko ravana hogi”. With a collective sigh of “What the…”, we slowly got down on Platform 1.

The platform resembled the lounge of international airport (anyways the infrastructure at our airports is no better than railway stations) with dozens of foreigners strewn all over the place. More drama was going on inside the Station Manager’s office as a Japanese couple, an Israeli gentleman and two aged European tourists were simulatenously bombarding the Manager with questions on the delay. My dad got in between and asked the same, but in Hindi, and got an immediate answer. It turned out that the incoming Shatabdi had returned late the previous night and the rake was being washed currently. As a result it would depart two hours behind schedule.

Satisfied with the answer, the foreigners backed out and we made our way to Upper Class Waiting Room, overflowing with harried passengers. Not willing to remained confined within the boring Waiting Room, I went out on the pretext of buying newspaper and found that the Chinese/Japanese tourists were busy with their cameras capturing all and sundry, the Europeans were busy noting down the details in their trip diaries while the Americans had their faithful Lonely Planets for company. The Indians, meanwhile settled down on the platform making newspaper carpets. So far so good. But the scene I saw next really amused me- a family of four had settled down on newspapers and the head of the family carefully placed his laptop on the platform floor, started the animation movie Madagascar on it and made his two little kids sit in front of it, thereby ensuring peace for themselves and others for two hours! All this while there was absolutely no sign of any security personnel around. I could have well carried an Agni missile into the platforms and nobody would have bothered.

After the Jammu Rajdhani vacated Platform 1, Amritsar bound Swarna Shatabdi occupied the place. It was 0700 now and passengers of Bhopal Shatabdi were getting restless. A seemingly funny announcement was made then- “Platform number 1 pe khadi gaadi Amritsar Shatabdi hai. Bhopal Shatabdi ke yaatriyon se nivedan hai ki ve Amritsar Shatabdi me na chadhe!”. I returned to the Waiting Room, laughing all the way. After the Amritsar Shatabdi departed from PF 1, we made our way out on to the platform and most of the other passengers followed suit. However till 0745, there were no signs of Bhopal Shatabdi anywhere. The crowd on the platform was swelling and in the mini-chaos, somebody pushed a trolley containing the breakfast for Bhopal Shatabdi and around 50 packets of breakfast fell headfirst on the platform. I pity the passengers of C2- God only knows what in what condition must have they got their breakfast!

The interiors of Bhopal Shatabdi

The first look inside the train left me speechless. Huge windows, swanky curtains, plush seats, individual reading lights and transparent fibre-glass luggage rakes- things that we only dream of or see in European trains were right before me! I settled on my window seat and started hearing the announcements being made inside the coach- “This is Bhopal bound Bhopal Shatabdi Express. Please do not hand over your tickets to any person till the train departs.” and then the same thing repeated in Hindi. I had a quick look around and found that we had more than two dozen foreigners in the coach. At exactly 0815, without any warning, we started crawling slowly out of New Delhi station. The run till Tughklaqabad was slow with brief spells of high speed. By this time, tea was served and I was pleasently surprised to see bags of Assam Tea instead of the usual Taj Mahal etc.

The real fun began after Palwal. It being winter season, the landscape on both sides was filled with bright yellow flowers of Sarson (Rapeseed/mustard) for as far as the eye could see and one couldn’t help but recollecte the famous scene involving SRK and Kajol from DDLJ! Crossing station after station at close to 150kmph is an experience that cannot be explained in words. Due to the rescheduling, we crossed the Mumbai Rajdhani at an effective speed of approx 280kmph (150+130) and the same spectacle was repeated with August Kranti Rajdhani! Soon after, breakfast was served and it took away my attention away from the window for brief intervals. The breakfast had an option of Bread Cutlets or Upma and Vada with Sambar. I chose the latter and it was finger-licking delicious. The usual Bread-butter-jam were present too. It was while having breakfast that I realised the amazingly smooth acceleration and braking of the LHB Shatabdi, a total contrast from the terrible jerks felt in LHB Rajdhani! Somewhere near Mathura, we were crawling at 20kmph and I diverted my attention away from the window towards applying jam on my bread and by the time I was done with it, in just two minutes or so, I looked out and whoa! We were cruising at 140+! I didn’t even realise when the acceleration happened!

The speakers in coach that were earlier giving out instructions now started dishing out music- instrumental versions of classic Hindi movie songs. Call it co-incidence or great choice by the authorities. the first song played was “Suhana Safar aur yeh mausam haseen!” How apt! The melody was broken only to announce the arrival of Mathura Junction. It was now that I realised that I had half of my breakfast to eat, and the mango juice to drink, all before reaching Agra, just 30 minutes away! We had a brief 2-minute halt at Mathura and the ride now was even more scenic- ‘the sarson de khet’ were omnipresent and the speed constantly hovering in three figure mark, whizzing past station after station raising a huge dust storm everytime! Just before Agra, the speakers came to life again with the announcement- “Agla station Agra hai. Yeh shahar Mughalo ki rajdhani thi. Vishwa prasiddh Taj Mahal is shahar me hai. Agra utarne wale yaatriyon ko hum vidaai dete hai.” indicating the end of an amazing run but not before the channel music played “Jeena Yahaan Marna Yahaan… Iske Siva Jaana Kahaan?” clearly echoing a true railfan’s feelings while onboard a train!

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Part III: Romancing the Desert!
(Jaipur to Borivali by Garib Rath Express on 15th Dec, 2008)

After travelling by Rajdhani and Shatabdi, this was the first journey of the trip where food was not included in the fare and as a result, we stopped by at the famous Rawat Kachoriwala enroute to Jaipur railway station and picked up 3 Onion Kachoris, 2 Mawa Kachoris and 3 glasses of Kesar Masala Milk, not having even the slightest clue about the taste of each of the items selected.

As we entered the station, Jaipur-Mumbai Central Superfast was waiting on Platform 1 while Garib Rath was scheduled to leave from Platform 3. We climbed the FOB but were unsure which side to get down. All I knew was that my coach G13 was going to be the last but one coach in the train. I had a quick glance at the train on Platform 1 and immediately announced to the family- get down on the right. Proud at having used my common sense, we alighted on the platform only to find G13 written on the electronic display board on the extreme left end of the platform. It was then that I realised my blunder-  Jaipur-Mumbai Central Superfast goes to Mumbai via Sawai Madhopur while Garib Rath takes the route via Ajmer. As a result both trains depart in opposite directions from Jaipur even though their destination is the same!

Immediately on the adjoining platform, Ajmer-Kishanganj Garib Nawaz Express arrived. I stopped by at a General coach to ask if the train had come from Ajmer or Kishanganj? After knowing it was from Ajmer, I once again stopped, this time at a window with an orange flag hoisted on it, and asked “Ye Kishanganj kahaan aata hai?”. The man at the seat replied sternly, “Bihar! Bihar!” and pointed towards a banner stuck on the coach which read “Akhil Bhartiya Vidyarthi Parishad- Bharat Ekta Rally to protest illegal migration of Bangladeshis into India”. I located Kishanganj right next to the India-Bangladesh border and immediately realised the reason for this group boarding this train. Meanwhile I saw the rake of Garib Rath being brought into the platform and immediately rushed to the end of the platform with the thought of having a quick chat with the Loco Pilot but his looks- long white hair, even longer white beard and a big tilak on the forehead making him resemble more like a sadhu at Kumbh Mela, made me change my plans and I started walking back when my eyes hit the digital clock showing 14:26- the train was brought on the platform with only 14 minutes to departure! I paced myself and crossed 19 coaches in 2 minutes and reached my coach at 14:28 with my family giving me that “Where the hell were you?” look.

As luck would have it, we were allotted berths number 79,80,81- the very last three berths in the very last passenger coach of the train with the loudly humming Generator Van as my immediate neighbour. The train departed exactly at 1440 and it turned out that a newly wed ‘dulhan’ going to her ‘sasural’ for the first time alongwith her husband were amongst our co-passengers and the dulhan’s family was at the door till the moment the train started giving teary-eyed ‘vidaai’ to her. Once the train started, the bride broke down crying with her husband giving her a long hug to console her- all this happening in the doorway. When this continued for close to five minutes one of the pantry staff decided it was enough and commented- “Bhaisaheb chalo, ab baaki andar jaake…”. The couple had no choice but to head back to their berths.

We opened our packets of snacks and found that the Onion Kachoris were delicious and were finished in no time but the Mawa Kachoris, considered a Jaipur speciality, were actually a sweet dish dipped generously in sugar syrup. After managing half of it, we decided it was no longer bearable and assigned it to the huge dustbin below the Wash Basin. By this time, the catering staff had started making rounds selling Bread Cutlets, noodles, Veg Burger and chips thereby assuring us that we won’t have to go hungry. The coaches of Jaipur Garib Rath have an electronic scrolling display above one of the doors which displays the name of next station, the remainig distance to that station and the current speed of the train, all updated in real time. This board was right above my seat and provided great entertainment. Soon after leaving the city, the display started showing speeds in the range of 104kmph to 108kmph tempting me to go to the door. I dared to open the door and stood for a few minutes before I realised that the afternoon sun and the tremendous amount of dust flying due to the train crossing arid terrain at 110kmph was too much to bear and I returned to my seat only to try my luck once again half an hour later.

Another half an hour into the run, we were put to wait at a tiny station and I excitedly jumped out of the train onto the tracks with my dad and uncle following me to the door. The signal on Main Line turned green and just then a shepherd decided to take his huge flock of goats across the tracks. Thankfully the goats were quick and I did not have to see a live mass murder of goats. Within few minutes, raising a huge dust storm, horns blaring, the Ajmer-Delhi Shatabdi blasted past at 110kmph leaving everyone speechless for a minute. I boarded the coach from the other door and as I crossed bay after bay of seats, I couldn’t help but notice that by sheer coincidence or luck, the newly-wed couple had an entire bay of seven seats to themselves and they were making the most of it, indulging in some really intimate Public Display of Affection (PDA in college-terms) providing free entertainment to the two passengers on side berths opposite them. This news somehow spread throughout the coach and every few minutes someone or the other would walk across the length of the coach, slowing down to peep inside the fourth bay and returning with a blush or a giggle.

Garib Rath glitters at Ajmer

Thankfully the attention of the coach was distracted soon as the attendant opened the huge “wardrobe” to rent out bedrolls and the first lady getting her set shouted out “Sirf 40 set hi aaye hai!” and all hell broke loose! Passengers from all corners of the coach rushed towards the attendant and formed a long queue to get their bedrolls. The arrangement of side berths in Garib Rath coaches is such that my berth was right opposite the “wardrobe” and there was no way I could reach there until the entire crowd returns to their seats. This commotion was absolutely unnecessary as there were enough bedrolls for all the 81 passengers, and then some more! I decided it was best to be at the door and positioned myself at one right upto Ajmer. Being at the fag-end of the train, at Ajmer I had to run three coaches ahead to fetch tea for mom, dad and myself. After Ajmer, the evening got cooler and standing at the door, more enjoyable with the blast of wind hitting in the face and the vast open plains of Rajasthan for as far as the eye could see. In the half hour that followed, I spotted a huge six-foot tall black and white deer/sambar/buck (whatever it is called), four white peacocks and around two dozen normal colored peacocks, including a pair standing sweetly right next to the flag-man at a tiny station as we whizzed past them at 105kmph.

As it got dark, I decided to check out the entire train- all 19 coaches of it and started the long walk. By the time I returned, it was a literal Bharat Darshan for me. I saw people playing cards, singing songs, reading books/novels/newspapers, sleeping, eating homemade food, chatting, children screaming, a sadhu praying sitting on his Side Lower berth, a Muslim devout offering namaaz in the doorway, families watching movies on laptops, even one gentleman who had typed one full page of text in Notepad on his laptop- in Telugu (quite an effort that would have been!). You name it and it was there. In the three Chair Car coaches (which are glorified detention camps) Ticket Checkers were busy selling off vacant Sleeper seats to passengers yearning for a bit of comfort. During my return walk, I lost count of the number of coaches crossed and overshot my own coach to land up in the pantry which is actually the Handicapped portion of Generator Van!

The pantry staff had assured us that dinner would be loaded at Falna and we were expecting hot food. But they couldn’t wait that long and started serving food when the electronic indicator was showing “Falna 10km”, thereby exposing their fraud- the food was loaded from Jaipur/Ajmer itself and was absolutely cold by now! Grudgingly we tucked into one dinner, two biryanis, two burgers and one noodles between the five of us and waited for Abu Road to arrive. Abu Road was reached at 2130  and once again I rushed out onto the platform, looked out for a stall three coaches ahead, got three packets of lassi and returned and commented that rabdi was available at the stall. Hearing this, my mom made me rush to the stall again and once more I successfully finished the sprint, this time with a ‘kulhad’ of rabdi in hand, in time before the train departed. After this I went off to sleep,  only to briefly wake up at Vadodara where we stopped for only four minutes and it was for the first time in years that I was seeing a train depart from Vadodara so soon! After this, my sleep was broken only at Surat.

Now desperate to reach on time, the drivers let loose and we started doing 114-115kmph for long stretches of time. I dared to open the doors and felt the early morning wind as we whizzed past Valsad at 106kmph and Vapi at 111kmph (all speeds courtesy the electronic indicator in the coach). After Vapi we hit 116kmph once and this was the highest speed I saw on the indicator during the journey. The almost 150km run from Surat to Dahanu was done in 90 minutes, giving an impressive average of 100kmph even while keeping maximum speed within the 115kmph limit! Finally we pulled into Platform 6 of Borivali at 0740, only 17 minutes behind schedule, doing the 233km run from Surat to Borivali in just 2 hours 35 minutes bringing a memorable end to a memorable journey!

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This ended a week of amazing trip and three journeys I will never forget!

Dudhsagar

PRELUDE:

The fateful day mentioned in the narration that follows was the culmination of a long standing desire of my friends- Akshay and Apoorva (and myself of course) to visit the Dudhsagar Waterfalls during the monsoons.

A warning: During the course of the story you may come across words or phrases which may sound like alien language. Do not worry. These are railway jargons and all of them have been duly explained in simple layman terms in the Glossary.

All characters mentioned here are purely real and any resemblance to any person or event living or dead is purely intentional. Some names have been changed to protect identities

The day started rather early, at 6am to be precise, with a heated argument between Apoorva and myself. While he was adamant that our passenger train for Kulem departs at 8.01am from Madgaon, I was sure that the time is 7.48am. Finally Akshay had to intervene and we decided to leave our hotel in Colva so as to reach Madgaon station before 7.45am.

We finished quickly with the daily chores and had a heavy breakfast because we were told by well-wishers that Braganza Ghats is a completely desolate part of the world and we would struggle to find even drinking water en route. Our taxi driver Mr. Menino (from his name, I doubt the Portuguese left him here when they left Goa for good) was ready with his Qualis at the hotel gate. We stuffed our luggage in the car and were dropped at the Madgaon Railway Station in around fifteen minutes giving us plenty of time to explore the place.

Before we go ahead, let’s go back in time and look at the events that laid the foundation for the adventurous day ahead. Our original plan was to take the Vasco-Howrah Express departing Madgaon at 8am to Castle Rock. The Braganza Ghats and the mighty Dudhsagar Falls were to be enjoyed from the comforts of the train. From Castle Rock, we were to take the Amravathi Express in the afternoon back to Madgaon, thereby enjoying the Ghats and the Falls once again while descending- again from the cozy comforts of the train. We had even booked confirmed tickets for the same a fortnight in advance. But fate had other plans for us. Ten days before our scheduled trip date of 3^rd July, torrential rains lashed Orissa and West Bengal and railway tracks were washed away at many places. As a result, the Vasco-Howrah Express and the Amravathi Express were both cancelled right upto 10^th July! This happens only in India- a natural calamity occurring two thousand kilometers away had put our trip in jeopardy!

Of course this could not dampen our spirits. After all we had come five hundred kilometers from our homes in Mumbai especially to enjoy Braganza Ghats and savor the Dudhsagar Falls in full glory. We were not the ones to give up easily. We got in touch with a local who suggested that we take the passenger train upto Kulem, which lies at the base of the Ghats and from there he would arrange a trip to the Waterfalls for us. So we bought unreserved tickets worth Rs.6 each for the Kulem Passenger when we already had confirmed e-tickets costing much more in our hands and entered a quiet Madgaon station with only a freight train standing on one of the lines and a little 3-coach DMU which had just returned from Karwar occupying the main platform. We walked upto the platform where the Kulem Passenger was to arrive and joined in the wait with other passengers- all of them locals and tribals. Only we- with our jeans and t-shirts were looking the odd-men out!

After a considerably long wait, it turned out that Apoorva was right about the timings. In fact, even he was wrong- for the passenger was due to arrive only at 8.20am, not even 8.01am as suggested by Apoorva a few hours back. During this one hour at the platform, a brief shower of rain dampened our spirits a bit. We did not want the Ghats lashed by heavy rains with visibility next to zero when we reach there. But our wish was granted soon and bright sunshine was out as the Vasco-Kulem passenger finally pulled into Platform 2, led by a bright looking WDG-3A locomotive from Gooty shed. We rushed and caught the very first coach after the loco. This passenger had an unusual arrangement of coaches- instead of having the SLR coach at both the ends, it had only one SLR coach right at the middle!

The coach was pretty empty and as we started getting trigger-happy clicking greenery all around us, the locals first eyed us with amusement but soon turned away in disinterest. Myself, Akshay and Apoorva had settled on consecutive windows on one side while Mom and Dad occupied two windows on the other side thereby ensuring we do not miss any action on either side of the tracks. At a small station called Sanvordem, five school children and their equally stupid mother decided to show off their bravery (read: stupidity) and crossed the tracks with our train only around fifty feet away from them. A loud hoot of horn from the terrified Loco Pilot probably provided the catalyst and they somehow managed to clear their way out on the other side just a second before the loco crossed them. This entire scene was captured by Dad since it happened on “his” side of the train. The entire run from Madgaon to Kulem which took around fifty minutes had the loco providing constant background score of chugging and honking.

At Kulem, everybody got off and left for their respective destinations except the five of us and another three youngsters who were also dressed in our kind of attire and could be clearly distinguished as tourists. As we wandered around the quaint little station for a while, we saw that the three youngsters were hurrying towards the station building. I decided to go faster then them and reached the Station Master’s Office first. Our local contact (referred to Mr. X henceforth) was to meet us here. It turned out that he had very good relations with the Station Master of Kulem and he used to spend a lot of time with them. I enquired with the Station Master about Mr. X but he said he had no information about his whereabouts. Just as I came out of his office, I saw a man asking the other three youngsters, “Are you Mr. X’s guests?’ Dad immediately intervened- “Sir, not them, WE are Mr. X’s guests.”

All this time, I was trying to reach Mr. X on phone. Mobile network at Kulem, we were told, was very unpredictable and I was hoping to get through atleast once. I connected to Mr. X’s landline number at Castle Rock and was told from the other end that Mr. X had left from Castle Rock for Kulem to meet us. The gentleman introduced himself as Mr. Y, a friend of Mr. X. It turned out that since Mr. X was going to be late, he had sent in his friend Mr. Y to receive us at Kulem station. Sensing that there was no means to go to Dudhsagar Falls from Kulem station, soon, the other three youths decided to walk all the way to the Falls from Kulem along the railway tracks- a trek of around 13km!

After a brief talk, Mr. Y got busy in his work and we, in getting our stomachs full. Kulem is a quaint little station with just one platform with old covered sheds retained from the MG-era. The lone platform is dotted with half a dozen huge rain trees giving the entire place a very serene look. Besides the platform, lies a track used as a siding by idle locos, followed by a single Main Line track beyond which lies four or five siding lines used to accommodate freight trains as and when they arrive from Vasco side or Castle Rock side. On the other side of the platform lies a terminating loop line on which now the Kulem Passenger was resting peacefully, its loco reversed and neatly attached at the far end.

We found a decent cement structure on the platform to serve as makeshift breakfast table. The platform had a solitary tea-stall which in its heyday used to make brisk business but now lying devoid of all its saleable commodities. Looking at the empty shelves we never expected to get anything from there but a young man came out on the platform and asked us if we would like to have some snacks and offered to look after our baggage in return. We ordered tea and decided to have the breakfast we had brought with us to reduce the burden in our bags! We promised the tea-vendor to have samosas from him in the evening and this got him excited. When he came to know that we were Mr. X’s guests, he exclaimed- “Yeah! I know him! Whenever he is here, he has tea from my stall only!” Yeah right! As if he had a choice!

Finishing the breakfast, we set out to explore the station and the surroundings. First, did a thorough study of a pair of Gooty WDG-3A bankers basking in the sun, followed by a trip onto the Foot Over Bridge which probably saw first human footsteps in months when we climbed onto it, took some photos of anything and everything that caught our eye and returned back to the platform. By this time, the tea-vendor had started distributing his knowledge. He was telling Dad. “These engines here are kept running since 5 in the morning. They will be attached to Chennai Express in the evening” pointing to a pair of WDG-3A bankers idling away on the first line. He continued, “Earlier, these goods trains used to get seven engines attached here to climb the ghat, but now that the American engines have come, only five are enough.” Sadly, there was not a single freight train today since morning to substantiate his claims.

We decided to check out the Station Master’s office. A very rude man in his fifties, he flatly refused to entertain any queries. When asked as to when was the first downhill freight train expected, he just replied with “I can’t say anything as of now. It has not left from Castle Rock” Just when he was done, a phone call brought more bad news- a loco had derailed inside Marmagao Port and as a result all freight trains leaving Marmagao towards Kulem were held up! Great! As if to add salt to our wounds, the Station Master commented- “Yesterday, by this time, we had sent four freight trains up the Ghats!” Dejected, we walked out. Now we had to make a choice- either take the Kulem-Vasco Passenger leaving at 12.20pm and head back safely to Madgaon or wait for a freight train (and Mr. X) to arrive. The tea-vendor, who was the only other human present at the platform besides the half dozen odd Loco Pilots all waiting for their duty, came up with a new idea- he suggested that we wait till evening, and if it got too late, he would arrange for a jeep to take us back to Madgaon. Knowing that there is atleast some transport available, we decided to wait and watch.

Sensing a good business opportunity, the tea-vendor came up to us with a new plan- he was to take each of us on bikes upto a place called Sonaulim from where the waterfalls were a 20-minute walk away. The price he quoted was astronomical but that was not the main deterrent. The main problem was that if Mr. X was arriving, we had to wait for him. So, we enquired with the Station Master if any freight train had left from Castle Rock. His answer, again- “I don’t know anything yet.” I decided to take matters in my own hands now and called up Mr. X’s landline. The person on the line informed that a freight train had departed from Castle Rock fifteen minutes back with Mr. X onboard it and would reach Kulem in an hour and half. I purposely announced this news loudly and the Station Manager, now probably realizing that we were well-informed nuts and not “just another irritating tourists”, quietly turned his back and hurried off into his cabin.

In the meantime, Dad heard the first good news of the day from a Loco Pilot- a loaded freight train was arriving at Kulem from Madgaon side soon. This lit up our faces- we would soon have atleast some train to go up the ghats. How do we travel in a freight train was ofcourse another matter! Me, Akshay and Apoorva rushed to a scenic spot outside the station to get some snaps of the arriving freight.

After a fifteen minute wait, from behind the curve, came two WDG-4 locomotives, roaring at full power, hauling a long cement-filled BCNA freight train. Even before we could adjust ourselves, came the most awaited moment of the day- from the other side of the station, one…two…three…four…five WDG-4 locomotives entered with a thunderous roar, with a long iron-ore filled BOXN freight train in tow. For a couple of minutes, we stood still enjoying the sight and sounds but soon realized that we had a job at hand- we needed to look out for Mr. X who was to arrive by this freight train. We looked at the five locomotives- one by one dozens of people emerged from the driver’s cabins of each of the five locomotives. Apparently the locals use these locomotives as their “local trains” for travel up and down the ghats!

We scanned the crowd for Mr.X, whom we had never seen or met before. Thankfully, Mr. Y came to our rescue and introduced us to a young well-built man- Mr. X. He assured us that he would take us up the ghats in one of the locomotives of the freight train- just like how the locals travel. Out of the five locomotives that brought the iron-ore freight down the ghats, the first three were to be detached at Kulem and attached at the rear end of the cement freight as bankers to assist it in climbing up the steep ghats. This process was to take an hour according to Mr. X and in the meantime we freshened up and decided to inform the Station Manager about our further plan. He was a bit shocked on hearing the plan and even tried to frighten us with a “But, how can you go up the ghats in a freight train?” and a stern look. We simply walked out, leaving Mr.X to do the needful. After all, he was the local guy. He signaled us to start walking towards the locomotives of the freight train which were way ahead of the platform due to the huge length of the train.

As we were walking along the tracks, a downhill freight train came screaming down the ghats with five powerful WDG4s at its helm and had I not ducked at the right moment, I would have been upstairs by now! Once at the lead locomotive, Mr.X talked to the Loco Pilots in their native tongue (I did not understand a word of it) and asked all five of us to board the driver’s cabin. The cabin already had the Loco Pilot and his assistant and a couple of locals inside. It was impossible that with this crowd already inside, six more of us could fit it. So, Mom, Dad and a local were asked to move to the second locomotive while the remaining made place for ourselves in the cabin of the lead loco. Just as we were about to leave, the LP got some message on the Walkie-Talkie and he and his assistant started packing off their belongings and soon got off the loco and walked away! For a minute, I felt as if my dream of going to Dudhsagar would remain just that- a dream. But soon, a new set of LP and his Assistant came and took charge.

Fifteen minutes later, we were given the green signal and the two WDG4s started with a deafening roar of their 8000hp worth of combined might, slowly pulling the 5000 tonnes of cement loaded in the wagons behind. Just out of the station, we encountered those three teenagers who had decided to walk upto the falls returning tired as hell. Within a few minutes, the Assistant Loco Pilot and Mr. X doubled up as our “tourist guides” and directed us to move out of the cabin onto the catwalk of the loco to get a good view of Dudhsagar Falls. And the first view that we got- it just can’t be explained in words. You gotta see it to believe it. Amidst the ear-splitting sound of the motors, we managed to stand on the catwalk for five minutes- just enough time to take a few pics. Immediately we were called in by Mr.X for further instructions. The route on the ghats is such that after the first view of the waterfalls, the tracks take a complete 180 degree turn along the hillside and finally pass right through the waterfalls! We were instructed to move out on the catwalk on the other side and we managed to do that just in time to witness the most spectacular natural beauty I have ever seen in my life! The mighty Dudhsagar Falls- up, close and personal!

After crossing the falls, we decided to be inside the safe confines of the loco cabin. At Caranzol station, we found a penta-WDG4 headed downhill freight waiting in the sidings. After the initial excitement died down, it dawned on me that this is the freight we were supposed to take from Castle Rock! But, it is already on its way and there is nothing we can do about it! Half an hour of tedious effort by the twin WDG4s upfront and three more bankers assisting from behind and a lot of sanding later, we finally arrived at Castle Rock- a quaint little station which once served as the gateway into Portuguese-controlled Goa from British-controlled India.

We got off at Castle Rock to find a totally deserted station with a huge empty freight yard. Just as we were worrying about how to go back to Madgaon, a fully loaded freight train entered Castle Rock from Hubli side. Wow! This is called luck! That was such a huge relief! We were wondering what we would do if no freight train came into Castle Rock for a couple of hours or more since it was already close to 4pm and there was no passenger train to Madgaon that day! Mr. X assured us that he would talk to the Loco Pilots of the freight train and ensure that we get a ride back home- not to Kulem, but right upto Madgaon! We spent an hour at the platform filling our tummy while the freight underwent mandatory checking before starting its downhill journey. Mr. X accompanied us upto the five WDG4s at the far end of the yard, talked to the Loco Pilots and announced- “Select which loco you guys want to sit in!”

This was like showing a child five chocolates and asking which one he wants! We admired the five huge beasts for a minute and thought- the first three locomotives are the bankers (or rather brakers for the downhill run) and would be detached at Kulem.So, no use sitting in them. The fourth loco would be the leading loco from Kulem to Madgaon and have the LP and his Assistant in it leaving no place for all of us. So, we finally decide to get into the fifth loco- where we would have the entire cabin to ourselves! The Assistant LP came and turned on the lights and fans inside the cabin and said with a warm smile “Please make yourselves comfortable in here.”

We perched ourselves at various vantage points inside the cabin and within no time, we were given the starter. With an even more deafening roar than the one in the afternoon, all five WDG4s sprang to life at the push of one button by the LP. The 20,000hp of effort started the huge freight train with 58 BOXN wagons filled with iron-ore with a jerk and immediately the last two locos were turned off. Taking a freight train downhill is challenging because the steep slope of the ghats ensures that the train keeps moving downwards even without applying any effort from the engines. The brakers have to ensure all the time that the speed does not cross 30kmph and the entire downhill journey was to be done only on dynamic brakes with zero tractive effort required!

The entire downhill journey was spent in admiring the figures popping up on the digital display inside the cabin of the loco. To our good luck, it was not cloudy and there was no rain so we could admire the Dudhsagar Falls once again on the way back and this time since the heavy train was moving at a restricted speed of 30kmph, we could admire the beauty for a much longer time! Even when the falls had disappeared from view, we kept on looking back- the sight is such that you can never get enough of it! After a clinically perfect run by the experienced ghat pilots, we entered a totally blacked-out Kulem station. There was a power failure and not a single light- not even the signals could be seen. This was as scary as it could get! Thankfully the backup generators could provide enough power to start the signals and we got the permission to go ahead soon.

The run from Kulem onwards was through flat terrain and the Loco Pilot unleashed the full 8000hp of raw power from the twin WDG4s and we were blasting through Goan countryside at 60kmph! And remember- this was not your ordinary passenger train- this was a freight train with 6,000 tonnes of iron ore filled in it! An open Level Crossing gate at a wayside station made us wait for a good twenty minutes. This probably irked the Loco Pilot a lot and the moment he got the green, he accelerated the train at full throttle, going into 5^th notch right from the start! This is something we least expected- a fully loaded freight train is started carefully in the 1^st notch and slowly taken to further notches.

Finally as we entered Madgaon station, the LP, as a kind gesture made the freight train stop at the platform first so that we could get off comfortably before taking it into the darkness of the yard ahead. Even before we could thank the Loco Pilots for their kind gesture, they notched up the monster again and the Good Samaritans roared away into the darkness, never to be met again!

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GLOSSARY:

• Freight: Technically correct term for a goods train (Hindi: maal gaadi)
• Locomotive / Loco: Technically correct term for “engine” of the train.
• DMU: Diesel Multiple Unit- a small train with no separate locomotives, looking somewhat like the local trains of Mumbai
• WDG-3A: A class of 3100hp diesel-powered locomotive, mainly used for goods trains and sometimes for short distance passenger trains.
• SLR: Railway jargon for that coach of the train which has a Guard’s cabin and Luggage compartment. Usually connected as the first and the last coach of a train.
• Loco Pilot / LP: Technically correct term for a “Engine Driver”
• MG: Metre Gauge. Tracks which are narrower than the usual tracks that we see around. Used widely in the British era, slowly disappearing now.
• Siding: An extra railway track at a station or a yard used for resting trains.
• Loop Line: An extra railway line, usually at stations, used to keep a train waiting when another train wants to overtake.
• Bankers: Extra locomotives attached at the rear of a train to help in climbing steep ghat sections. Can be single, twins or triplets depending on the train load.
• WDG-4: A class of 4000hp diesel-powered microprocessor-controlled modern locomotives imported from General Motors, USA.
• BCNA: Railway jargon for fully covered freight wagons used to transport cement, foodgrains etc.
• BOXN: Railway jargon for freight wagons open from the top used to transport coal and mineral ores.
• Catwalk: A narrow passage along the length of the locomotive
• Penta-WDG4: A configuration wherein a total of five WDG4 locomotives collectively pull a heavy freight trains on steep ghat sections. Seen very rarely.
• Sanding: An operation involving spraying sand on the tracks to prevent the wheels of the train from slipping in wet conditions.
• Brakers: Extra locomotives attached at the front of a heavy train going downhill to provide extra braking power.
• Starter: The signal just outside the station.
• Notch: The train locomotive’s equivalent of a “gear” in cars. Just as car at higher speeds is taken in higher gear, trains at higher speeds are taken in higher notches.

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