Indian Trains, Planes and Automobiles

We have a dear friend who was travelling around India with two companions on a Golden Triangle tour. Knowing that she would be visiting one of our favourite places, Ranthambore, home to the famous tiger reserve, we casually suggested that we might pop across and join her for a drink.

The planning began!

The first thing we established was that Ranthambore was over 2,500 km from Kochi. We knew it was a long way, but what we hadn't appreciated was just how difficult it could be to get from one place to another in India. There were no direct flights that worked for us, so flying would mean changing planes along the way. Not quite the straightforward journey we'd imagined.

Then Lottie came up with a plan.

"Let's get the train," she said. "And, to add a little spice, let's get an overnight one!"

The route was decided. We'd take an overnight train from Kochi to Goa, spend a day relaxing on the beach, fly to Jaipur and then catch another train to Ranthambore. Simple enough. What could possibly go wrong?

The Great Indian Railway Challenge

Little did I know just how complicated train travel could be if you wanted a reserved berth and, ideally, a little comfort.

I managed to set up an account on the Indian Railways website. First hurdle overcome. Anyone who has tried to apply for an Indian e-visa will understand when I say that this was every bit as complicated and frustrating. And this was just the beginning!

Our research suggested that, for an overnight journey, we really needed to travel in an air-conditioned sleeper carriage, preferably AC1 or AC2. We identified the best train for us, departing Kochi at 6.30 pm and heading to Goa.

We logged on to the booking site, only to discover that there were no confirmed tickets available. We could join the waiting list, but that was it. AC1 had us at numbers 8 and 9, while AC2 had us at 19 and 20.

The only way forward was to book and pay in full. Fortunately, cancellation charges were only 60 rupees, so we booked three different tickets across the available classes in the hope that at least one would come through.

In fact, we were so determined to make this work that we also booked trains to Goa on two consecutive days, giving ourselves an extra chance of securing berths. The idea was to take whichever journey we managed to get confirmed.

A little more research suggested we had a reasonable chance, but there would be no guarantee until the final passenger list was published, around eight hours before departure. In the meantime, as other passengers cancelled, we should gradually move up the waiting list.

So began the daily checking. Unfortunately, there was no movement. The panic started to set in, and we began investigating alternative options. Flights were possible, of course, but that rather defeated the point of the adventure we'd planned.

I spoke to some Indian friends, who told me that additional last-minute tickets were sometimes released on the day before travel. The advice was simple: be at your computer at 10 am.

So, 10 am arrived, we logged on and... another failure! What I hadn't realised was that the tickets released at 10 am were for Indian passengers, with travel agents getting access at 10.30 am. Not quite the opportunity we'd been hoping for.

There was nothing left to do but wait and see what happened overnight.

The following morning, I was up early and, to our enormous relief, discovered that we'd made it onto the confirmed list in both AC1 and AC2. Success at last!

I quickly cancelled the AC2 booking, only to discover that we'd been even luckier than we thought. We'd been allocated a private two-berth compartment rather than a four-berth one. This meant we had the space to ourselves, with a door. Perfect.

All Aboard!

The train was on time, and we quickly found our carriage and settled in. Fresh pillows, sheets, towels and blankets were provided, and the carriage attendant came round to check that everything was OK.

Soon after departure, dinner was served in our compartment. It was actually quite tasty, and once we'd eaten, we settled down for the night. Lottie elected to take the top bunk.

I have to say, it wasn't the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in, but there was something rather satisfying about travelling this way. We woke to sunrise and some spectacular views as we approached Goa.

The train arrived around 40 minutes late, but that was no problem. This time we'd planned ahead and booked a car to take us to the beach resort we'd chosen in North Goa.

Goa is India's smallest state by area, but it has quite a distinct identity. It was under Portuguese rule for more than 450 years, until it was liberated in 1961. It then became a Union Territory, initially together with Daman and Diu, before gaining statehood in 1987. India currently has eight Union Territories, which are governed directly by the Central Government rather than having their own state governments.

Goa also has its own official language, Konkani. Yet another language to add to our ever-growing list! Between Malayalam, Hindi, Tamil and now Konkani, we're beginning to realise that we'll never manage more than a handful of words in each. Still, we keep trying!

Our driver, a local man, was very obliging and even suggested stopping along the way for breakfast at a roadside restaurant. A rather good start to our little Goa escape.

Goa: Beach Life and Unexpected Shopping

On arrival, we checked into the hotel and quickly realised that we'd picked a weekend when the place was full of Indian families. Both swimming pools were occupied, but we weren't going to let that spoil things. We changed and headed straight for the beach.

We found what looked like the perfect spot for a cool drink and a bit of peace and quiet.

Wrong again!

Every five minutes, another hawker would appear, offering everything from henna designs and bracelets to clothes and beachwear. They were persistent, persuasive and clearly very good at their jobs.

I, of course, resisted all temptation.

Lottie, on the other hand, was quickly transformed into their new best friend — and customer!

One hand now sported a beautiful henna design, two bracelets had been purchased as gifts and added to the collection. Then came the discovery that the money needed to pay for it all was safely tucked away in the hotel room safe.

I was duly despatched to retrieve the funds.

Fifteen minutes later, I returned to discover that both feet now had henna designs and a beach cover up had also found its way into the shopping bag.

So much for a quiet afternoon!

Eventually, we settled down to relax before heading back to the hotel to shower and find somewhere for dinner. The season was only just beginning, and quite a few of the beach restaurants were still being built, so there wasn't quite the choice we might have expected. We found one that had just reopened for the season; it was its first day open, and we enjoyed some lovely local food. It was good to see things slowly coming back to life along the beach.

A Rather Big Moment

When we woke the following morning, we had no idea that this was going to be a rather monumental day in Lottie's life.

The weather was warm but overcast, so we decided to take a couple of sunbeds on the beach outside the restaurant where we'd eaten the previous evening. They had looked after us beautifully and, as the owner was Spanish, they had sparkling wine. Lottie doesn't refer to me as her "Prosecco Princess" for nothing!

As the temperature rose, I decided it was time to enjoy the warm waters of the Arabian Sea and suggested we go for a paddle.

Lottie politely declined. Well, what she actually said cannot be printed here.

So I headed in alone, jumping through the breakers and enjoying a swim in the warm sea, occasionally waving back to Lottie on the shore.

When I returned, I could see that something was bothering her, and we started talking.

It was then that she told me something I hadn't fully appreciated before. Since the age of five, she had been absolutely terrified of entering the sea because of her fear of fish. This was the same fear I’d discovered on our backwater trip.

She had never been in the sea. She couldn't eat a whole fish and, although she knew her fear was irrational, she'd never managed to overcome it, despite being well travelled and having visited some pretty exotic beach locations.

Think about that for a moment. She'd spent time on Caribbean beaches, visited Hawaii and enjoyed some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, but had never ventured into the water. Not once.

And it wasn't that she didn't want to. She had watched other people swimming, seen the beautiful clear water and wanted to experience it herself. But the fear was always stronger. Knowing that something is irrational doesn't make it disappear, and it certainly doesn't make it any easier to face.

Now, watching me enjoying myself, she found herself wanting to try. A huge part of her was always frustrated that something she'd wanted to do for so long and the fear was still holding her back.

I reassured her that there wouldn't be any fish close to the shore, but my assurances fell on deaf ears. Telling someone with a lifelong fear that there is nothing to be frightened of isn't particularly helpful when, to them, the fear feels very real.

So I came up with a plan. I'd go back into the water with my phone and film my feet as I paddled, proving that there was nothing lurking around them. The water really was clear enough to do this.

The video seemed to help, but it was still a huge step. Lottie slowly made her way to the water's edge. She stood there looking at the sea, searching for any sign of fish. Then she took a couple of tentative steps in.

I don't think anyone watching could have understood just how much courage that took. Every step meant confronting a fear she'd carried for most of her life. She wasn't simply deciding whether the water was warm enough or whether she fancied a swim. She was trying to do something that, for as long as she could remember, had felt impossible.

A couple more steps and the waves were washing against her knees. She paused, looked around again, and then went a little further.

And then it happened.

The fear began to give way to something else. The worried frown turned into a smile, then laughter. She was in the sea. Actually swimming!

I cannot begin to explain what that moment meant to her. Something she'd wanted to do for decades, something she'd watched other people enjoy all over the world, was finally happening. She had begun to face a fear that had stopped her for most of her life and discovered that she could do it after all.

And she didn't just go in once. She went back in twice more that afternoon.

It was a genuinely emotional moment, and one that deserved celebrating. An emotional phone call to her parents followed, then a glass (read 'bottle') of sparkling wine, before we headed off for dinner.

Sometimes the most memorable moments of a trip aren't the places you visit or the things you see. Sometimes they're the things you finally find the courage to do.

This was one of those moments.

Onwards to Ranthambore

Our Goa adventure, brief as it had been, was over. Early the following morning we were heading back to the airport, ready for our flight to Jaipur and the next leg of the journey: another Indian train, this time taking us towards Ranthambore.

We were getting quite good at this travelling business.

Or so we thought...

Back to Ranthambore Regency

Having stayed at the Ranthambore Regency many times with tour groups, I know how much everyone hopes to see tigers in their natural habitat. Often they do, although not always — apologies to those who haven't been lucky!

This visit was different. We had no safari booked and, with a day before our friend Chris arrived, planned to relax, swim and enjoy the hotel. The welcome here is always genuine and warm, very much like coming home.

I went to catch up with my friend Mukesh, the barman, over a cool beer, while Lottie headed for the hotel shop. It has a great selection of Pashminas, T-shirts and other items, and can make things to order within 24 hours. She soon had made-to-measure trousers and a bathrobe on order, along with another obligatory Pashmina, before joining us for a beer.

Although the hotel is three-star, and there are much larger international hotels in Ranthambore, including the Taj, ITC and Marriott, this place is hard to beat. The owner is on hand to greet guests, the attention to detail is excellent, the pool is lovely and the restaurant serves excellent food. There is also a spa, where I had my first — and so far only — massage. The staff have remained largely unchanged over the years, which says a lot about the place.

Chris arrived that evening as part of an organised tour, and we finally had the drink we'd travelled 2,500 km to share.

The following morning Chris and her group headed out on safari and returned having spotted tigers, result! We spent another relaxing afternoon at the hotel.

The next morning we said goodbye to Chris, but this isn’t the last we'd be seeing of her. More of Chris's adventures to come!

With our train not leaving until lunchtime, we hired a jeep to visit the ancient Ranthambore Fort and the Ganesh Temple at the top.

It was a Wednesday, the auspicious day for Ganesh, and we walked up alongside other visitors carrying offerings. Our driver was also heading up to make his own offering and came up with us, despite speaking very little English. At the temple, non-Hindus are often not allowed into the inner sanctum, but we were welcomed in. Lottie simply wrapped her ever-present Pashmina around her legs to cover her shorts — another justification for her growing collection!

We bought offerings and joined the ceremony, with bells ringing, priests chanting and fire rituals taking place. Holy water was sprinkled over the devotees and the offerings were accepted. My iPhone issued another warning about decibel levels!

We returned to the Ranthambore Regency, said our goodbyes and headed to the station for the train back to Jaipur. We had one night there before our straightforward flight back to Kochi.

How wrong one can be!!!