By the time we
arrive in Jaisalmer, we have spent the night illegally remaining on a train,
refusing to vacate the train, and top-and-tailing in one tiny berth when the
ticket master finally gives in. Persistence is key ladies and gentlemen.
We arrive with
a few objectives - find a hotel in which to sleep for a few hours, have long,
hot showers and find a camel safari tour for the night. We decide to spend our
one night sleeping in the desert under the stars before re-boarding another
overnight train to Delhi.
Checking out
of the hotel a few hours after check in proves an unpleasant experience - the
manager refuses to keep our bags overnight whilst we safari as we had not
chosen to travel with his less than professionally run camel tours. We part
ways in a less than amicable fashion.
We get to town
to find that the jeep for our tour has arrived, and two other people will be
joining us for the night. Kate and Brooke, two Melbournians travelling together
prove to be fantastic camel companions. We drive an hour out of Jaisalmer
towards the Thar Desert, which forms a natural boundary running along the
border between India and Pakistan. We arrive to find another two groups will be
accompanying us – three Australians and a large group of French exchange students.
We sit out in the desert whilst our tour guides walk off to begin dinner.
Carrying a hessian bag, they pull out a lamb and begin cutting and pulling. I decide
on vegetarian food for the night.
Dinner arrives
five hours later - the small flames and large group resulting in seriously slow
cooking. We sit around a bonfire, eating and talking whilst our beds are set
up. They consist of thin mattresses applied directly to the sand, covered with
two large heavy blankets to fend off the bitter cold of the desert.
The large
blankets, however, prove useless in fending off stray dogs. I find myself
swallowing my rapid breathing, awoken by a sniffing at our heads. This sort of
experience makes one realize the safety sleeping indoors, or even off the floor
provides.
Awakening in
the desert is a strange and breathtaking experience. Opening eyes to blue skies
and fluffy white clouds whilst the morning breeze caresses your face is a
wonderful thing. Not awakening to stray dogs is also a plus. Breakfast consists
of chai, boiled eggs and bread whilst all the bedding is packed up and reloaded
onto camels for the journey home.
We explore the
Jaisalmer fort back in town, killing time before our train departure to Delhi. This
fort is slightly less impressive than those previous, allowing stalls and
market people to pollute the grounds with mass consumerism. Colorful turbans,
tacky t-shirts and large decorated blankets litter the area. After a saunter
around we return to the safari office to collect our luggage and make our
journey onwards to the station.
In Mt. Abu we
are told whilst booking that we are spot 8 and 9 on the wait list to Delhi and
that with so many days before departure the list will easily clear. Following
events in Jodhpur we are not quite as optimistic. Sure enough, we check the
list to realize we are in fact spot 26 and 27 and everyone up to number 25
cleared and got tickets. So close, yet so far. We decide to repeat the Jodhpur
train, and climb aboard to stand by the piss-covered toilets and await our
fate. Through the door of the cabin we are spotted by two tall Indian men who
converse sternly, nod to one another and move towards us.
“Hi. We are traveling with a group and we bought extra tickets. Do you have tickets?”. Oh yes yes, we just lovveee the smell in
here, you know? Thought we might stand here and just soak it in.
“No, we were
on the wait list and didn’t clear. We really need to get to Delhi”
“Well, we can
sell you our extra tickets. They are Tak Tal so they will cost you a little
more but you wont have to stand here or go fight for space in the luggage carriage”
After some
deliberation we accept the tickets. We spend the night sleeping well, with
space and the knowledge that this train has cost us time, stress and a lot of money.
We decide to give the wait lists a miss for the rest of our travels throughout India.
We never do see the refund on our wait list tickets, despite insistent anger fueled arguments with the ticket office. One must merely take these things as
learning experiences. And one will learn very quickly when the alternative is
standing in urine.
