Epilogue

Anyone who has kept up with this blog might be wondering why it came to such an abrupt halt on 19th March. We had one further day with Tim and Shelagh in Dubai which was mainly spent packing, although we did manage lunch out at a restaurant on the Jumeirah Beach Walk. By the evening both of us were feeling a little under the weather and, as we had a 5.00 a.m. pick-up for the airport, we had an early night.
The car turned up promptly and everything went very well at the airport and on the flight home, although neither of us did full justice to the on-board catering. At Glasgow our luggage appeared to be last off the plane but we were soon on the road. Back in Linlithgow Alex and Craig were there to welcome us home.
The final outcome was that D felt unwell enough to visit the doctor on Tuesday and, after submitting a sample, was diagnosed as being infected by the Giardia parasite. This is now being treated with a drastic regime of 500mg antibiotic tablets and strictly no alcohol :-(. We are now waiting for R's test results.
Do not let this minor setback put you off visiting India. We had a tremendous time. There is so much to see, do and experience.

Saturday 19th March - A busy day.

Today we planned out a busy itinerary starting with a return visit to the flamingo hide at the bird sanctuary. This was busier than it had been through the week but we were able to watch a bit more activity on the part of the flamingoes than we had seen before, as well as spotting a few other species lurking around. It is to be hoped that this reserve manages to survive the relentless development going on all around it.
After the birds we drove for an hour and a half north out of Dubai and through some of the smaller Emirates, to the Wadi Bih. This is a dry watercourse (for most of the time) but obviously sees torrents of water when heavy rains fall in the mountains. We found a shady thorn tree where we set up the folding chairs and got stuck in to our sandwiches and ginger beer. There were intersting rocks and birds to look at as well as a few fossils.
Next on the agenda was the Dubail Mall for a return visit to the Aquarium, an ice cream and to pick up our tickets for a trip to the observation platform on the Burj Khalifa, the world's tallest freestanding building. THe aquarium was especially good as a couple of frogmen appeared and started feeding some of the fish which provoked a stampede (or whatever the fish equivalent is). The ice creams were pretty good too, as was the fountain display outside the mall, even if the music was Celene Dion.
The trip up the tower took quite a while, as everybody else seemed to be in the mood to dawdle. When we got up to the viewing deck it was quite crowded and the view seemed surprisingly limited. It didn't stretch as far as the Marina area and the main visible features were motorway intersections and a few brightly lit buildings. There was a much longer queue to get down than there had been to get up but eventually it was our turn to descend.
Meeting the Jordans at the bottom we headed home via the shwarma shop where we picked up supper. Shelagh made the mistake of asking to see our Indian photos. After two and a half hours we had got to the end of week two and nobody could stay awake any longer.

Friday 18th March - Picnic at the Polo

Friday is Sunday in Dubai so Tim wasn't working and we all had a lie in. Shelagh had goodies to prepare for this afternoon's picnic so we slackers went swimming while Tim went for a unicycle ride round the Marina. It was soon time to go so we loaded up the car and set off to the Polo field where various friends were already busy setting up gazebos, chairs and a bar. The entertainment kicked off with Camel Polo - chaotic as the camels were lead around by grooms and the players were clearly not used to either camels or the longer sticks required. It doesn't seem likely to catch on as a mass entertainment.
Following the comedy turn it was time for a rather splendid picnic lunch featuring a delicious salmon and Shelagh's undoubtedly excellent apple tart. As the drinks continued to circulate the conviviality level soared and people started to kick their shoes off and party. Meanwhile various polo matches were taking place, with the standard apparently improving as the the afternoon progressed. During the interval between matches a hoopoe appeared on the playing area. This rather amazing bird was top of R's wish list and she was absolutely thrilled to see one. The last match was between the British Army and the Habtoor team, local bigwigs. The standard of play was impressive and for quite a while the game very exciting until the Habtoors stretched out a four goal lead. By this time it was just starting to get dark so we packed everything up and returned home, exhausted from a hard day's spectating.

Thursday 17th March - Public Transport in Dubai

A lazy start to the day. Tim needs the car so we plan to travel up to Dubai Creek and the Old Souk by bus, metro and waterbus. Part one of the plan falls over when the bus to the metro station flies by several minutes early while we are still on the wrong side of the road. No a/c bus stop here so we decide to fritter away £2 on a taxi for this bit of the journey. The metro is still clean, efficient and air conditioned providing splendid views of the city landmarks as we head north. The line dives underground to cross the creek and we alighted at Union station, from whence it was a short walk to the water-bus stop.
A brisk cruise down river brought us to the Old Souk, where there is a rather nice waterfront restaurant. A splendid mezze lunch was followed up with a bout of light middleweight haggling and the wonderful spectacle of Shelagh putting the pashmina salesmen in their place. The return trip worked flawlessly and we even saw signs that the second metro line is progreessing well. We were told that it is due to open in August.
The plan for the evening was to take a dinner cruise around Dubai Marina, close to where Tim and Shelagh live. This included collection so we were able to enjoy the cocktail hour before we set off - tonight's special being Saffron Gin. Dinner was not quite of the superb quality that we usually enjoy in Dubai and, judging by the red wine, it had been a good idea to sink a couple of tinctures pre-departure. After dinner we were entertained(?) by a belly dancer and the breathtaking night skyline of the Marina District.

Wednesday 16th March - Pretty Flamingoes

Another sunny day here in Dubai. After an early breakfast (9 a.m.) we go for a swim in the pool. No rest for the wicked. Shelagh drives us out to the Flamingo hide on the bird reserve and we are not disappointed. There are a couple of wardens who set up a high powered telescope and occasionally point out birds of interest. Please could any experts looking in identify the brown bird at the front - is it a Whimbrel or a Eurasian Curlew? R thinks the latter, but is prepared to be wrong! We became aware that it had been a long time since beakfast,the flamingoes were walking off into the middle distance, lunch beckoned. Shelagh decided to take us to one of her favourite luncheries, Limetree Cafe, where we had lovely sandwiches made with local breads and Zen Chai Punch to drink.
Next up was a supermarket run to Geant at Ibn-Batutta. What great fun after 4 weeks without seeing hide nor hair of one. R went mad buying spices etc and had to be prevented from buying a kilo of dried chillies. Back home for tea and then time to get glammed up for a visit to Trader Vic's for cocktails and supper. The cocktails were excellent and the views of the Dubail skyline something else.

Tuesday 15th March - Au revoir India

Not a lot to say today and it will only make you envious if we post more pictures of champagne and luxury dining Emirates style. All went according to plan apart from a dodgy half hour where we waited inside the hotel and the driver waited outside. The useless Ramada Plaza had given hime the wrong room number. The traffic was very sedate by Delhi standards and the airport was very quiet. The flight was on time but disappointingly Indian regulations do not permit the service of alcohol while on the ground so no champagne. We won't be coming back.
Seriously, we have had a great time and probably will return but to see other places, things and railways. Once we were airborne the champagne did arrive along with a very nice lunch and our three hour flight to Dubai flew by. Our car was waiting and we were whisked down the freeway to JBR (Jumeirah Beach Residences) where we checked in to the Hotel Shelagh. As always the welcome was wonderful, the service superb and the food exquisite.

Monday 14th March - A Henna Party

R gets up at about 7 in time to meet the bed tea delivery man and we get ours. We tiptoe around for a while until the other occupants wake up and then dismantle the bunk and revert to day seating. It is a bright sunny day on the North Indian plain and we watch the bird life and the passing scenery until breakfast arrives. This is vegetable cutlets, chips and peas with bread and butter. We are short of photo's of this morning so here is one from yesterday of R throwing a sulk on being told that we need to move to a different coach. This morning the MP decides to be chatty and tells us about all of the interesting places in India that we have failed to get to. He also tells us what a beautiful country Scotland is. He must have been asleep when they visited Whitburn.
New Delhi statiuon, where we arrive a mere 10 minutes late, is its usual chaos. We batter the porters down from 500 to 300 which is still a lot more than the locals pay and they take our luggage out to a spot on the pavement next to a dodgy taxi wallah who wants to charge us well over double the rate. We agree on 400 just to get out of the heat. Our cabby, who looks about 15, has to ask directions. It's a good job that we know where we are going. Although it is only 11 a.m they have a room ready for us - just as tiny as last time we were here - but it has a/c and a shower and that is all we want at the moment.
By the time we are refreshed and repacked it has cooled down a little and we head out on the metro to Khan Market, allegedly the trendiest place in Delhi, and therefore just the place for us. In ten minutes we see more westerners than we have seen in the previous four weeks put together. After all of our travels R almost literally trips over a man offering hand painting. After a bit of a haggle a price is agreed for two backs of hands. A second artist appears and they sit on the step leading up to the Citibank ATM and plonk a tiny plastic stool in the middle of the pavement for R. They set too with a will and quite a crowd gathers to watch the entertainment. At the end R is advised to let it dry for an hour then polish with oil. What on earth could we do for an hour? Fortunately there was a trendy bar handy. Unfortunately their Kingfishers were very small so we had to move on to the next bar, not very trendy at all but bigger beers. When we had finished they arrived with a repeat order, apparently because it was Happy Hour. What a shame. By this time R's hands were cured (or whatever the term is) so we headed for the SideWok restaurant so she could oil her hands in the loo and incidentally have some food. This was of the Thai variety, very tasty and in huge portions. Luckily for our livers there was no licence so we drank water.
For a final holiday thrill we took a tuk-tuk ride back to the Ramada Plaza and had a nightcap in the bar.

Sunday 13th March - We meet an Indian Politician.

Amazing. Our Indian holiday is almost over and we seem to have been here hardly any time at all. After breakfast we pack our bags and take a wander round the local area. On a whim we decide to take a tram trip, getting on the first tram we see, signed only in Hindi (or is it Bangla?). As D is paying for this trip we opt for second class tickets to the terminus which cost a massive 3.5 rupees each (about 6p). For this we get a half hour ride out into the suburbs ending up at a tram depot. For some reason the return costs an extra half rupee each and we are cheated as halfway back into town we catch up with the previous tram which has demolished part of the overhead wire and is therefore stuck. We are decanted into the middle of a busy junction without a refund. D plans to write to the council. We have no difficulty finding a taxi which takes us back to the hotel for 60 rupees.
We check our bags with the porter and stroll down the street to R's favourite pub in all of Kolkata - the New cathay. We have been beaten to it by Ray who has ordered lunch. We join him and spend a convivial hour chatting , drinking and eating. One more trawl round the local streets, where we discovered a department store that makes TK Maxx look like Harrods, then it was time to take a taxi to Sealdah station. We get there an hour and a half before the train is due to leave and wonder what we are going to do with our time. After a brief negotiation an elderly coolie barrows our luggage to the platform but we don't know which coach or compartment we are in. AS D walks back towards enquiries the train pulls in and the coolie thinks he knows which coach we are but there are no charts posted. These guys know everything so we go for it.
When the charts are posted we are in the wrong coach and have to move. We are listed to be sharing with an Indian MP who turns up with retinue a few minutes before departure. In the meantime we have had our luggage sniffed by a bored looking black labrador. Our travelling companion turns out to be a genuine farting, burping, slurping, phone shouting anti-social. The Rajdanhi express is too smart to permit hawkers (or passengers hanging out of the doors) but there is an endless stream of catering persons delivering roses, fruit juice, welcome tea with samosa, soup and eventually a fairly ordinary "Meals on Wheels" dinner. So much for this train having the best food on all of Indian Railways. Finally, after the man has converted the seats into bunks, the ice cream arrives. Yummy!
As we turn in another Indian man appears to occupy the fourth bunk but he causes no bother. The MP's sleeping habits are relatively silent and we get a decent night's sleep.

Saturday 12th March

Regular readers of Radinblogs will be aware that no visit to any city is complete without an excursion to the Botanic gardens. Therefore, after breakfast, we took a car out via the new suspension bridge over the Hooghly to the Kolkata version. Our driver was obviously unused to travel west of the river and had to stop to ask directions a couple of times. The Botanic Garden is set back off the road so it was easy to see why it would be hard to find if you were not a local. The gardens are not at their best at this time of year but the wide variety of trees and plant life was impressive. We spent over two happy hours wandering round enjoying the peace and looking at a wide variety of bird life as well. We were very impressed by the Great Banyan Tree with it's circunference of over a kilometer and it's reported 2,800 arial roots.
Our plan was then to visit the Howrah Railway Museum but we got there two hours too early and the sun was absolutley scorching, so we contented ourselves with a visit to the station and a SevenUp. We beat a reatreat to our air-conditioned room at the Peerless and had a siesta. When it had cooled down a bit we ventured out to do a bit of shopping which was good fun and mainly successful. R found a top that she liked but it was sleeveless. No problem. Within 10 minutes our man returned with the top including sleeves at no extra charge.
In the evening we strolled round to the nearby Fairlawn Hotel which has a beer garden described in the Lonely Planet as a cross between a rainforest and Santa's grotto which can happily confirm. Ray from the D@L tour was celebrating his birthday and we had a quick beer with him before moving on to our chosen restaurant. This was highly recommended in LP but turned out to be invisible so we finished up having pasta in an alleged Italian restaurant. Not our finest hour!

Friday 11th March - The Party's Over

A lie in this morning followed by a relaxed breakfast. Today is the last day of the D@L tour so most people are busy packing and checking out. We go for a stroll around the local market and find an off licence where beers are less than £1 each. Even at 10 a.m. it is very humid as the sun tries and fails to burn off the haze. When we get back to the hotel a man appears to lock the mini-bar and informs us that we are checking out today. Down to reception who say that they have no record that we are staying a further two nights. Our guide sorts it out and we don't have to do a panic flit.
We climb onto the coach, most of the party with their luggage, and take a short drive down to one of the jetties on the Hooghly River. We are taking a cruise on a rather odd double decker barge but at least it looks quite smart and has paint on it unlike the general passenger ferries. Today's paper has a front page story about how most of the Hooghly ferries are operating on forged safety certificates, as well as one about scarily high numbers of Indian airline pilots reporting for duty while drunk. We sit on the top deck at the front as we take a leisurely sail up river passing verious refuse yards, water treatment facilities and derelict warehouses. There are also more interesting sights such as Howrah Station, various fishermen, holy statues on some of the funeral ghats and a rather splendid Kali temple (which possibly gave Kolkota it's name).
The inevitable curry buffet lunch is served although we are warned off the salad as its provenance is considered unreliable. The rest is very tasty and we tuck in, having retired to the a/c lounge to get out of the heat. For a modest price they supply cold Kingfishers. Perfection. By this time the boat has turned and is heading back downstream and we soon get the call to assemble on the aft deck for a group photo with the Hooghly Bridge as a background. Photographing this 1940's piece of engineering is strictly prohibited so I hope we are out of the country before it is published.
Back at the jetty everybody said goodbyes, then we squeezed into a taxi with our guide Chompa, and Ray who was also staying on in Kolkata. As we got back to the hotel a tremendous thunderstorm broke, putting all the lights out a couple of times. R slept while D tortured himself by watching Bangladesh v England on the box.
Eventually hunger prevailed and we walked down the street to the chaotic restaurant from yesterday lunchtime. We were greeted as long lost friends and seated in front of the big screen showing the England game. Everybody wanted to talk cricket and for a while England looked like they might get back into the game but they did manage to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

Thursday 10th March - Oh Kolkata

We start today with a chartered tram ride around Kolkata. The heat is already building up at 8.45 as we walk a couple of blocks to the tram terminal. The traffic here doesn't seem quite as manic as Delhi but these things are relative. Anywhere else this tram would be awaiting restoration but here it is just run of the mill. There are two cars coupled together. The front one is first class and has fans. Both have wooden seats and there is no glass in the windows. Our route takes us from colonial Calcutta into the old town, along colourful and crowded market streets. The best bit was that the driver let us press the floor button to ring the warning bell.
The tram tour ended at the tram sheds where we took a coach for a tour of some of the city highlights including the area where the statue makers work, creating statues of Hindu gods from straw and clay. We also stopped off at St John's church, site of the Black Hole memorial. For lunch we were deposited at a restaurant on Chowringee that must qualify as the most disorganised in India. We had almost given up on ordering food when a waiter handed us a pen and pad of paper. Incredibly he was able to read everybody's writing except the doctor's. The food was very tasty and in huge portions when it finally arrived. We finally got out half an hour after our tour was due to resume but they didn't go without us.
Our afternoon visit was to the Victoria Memorial, a gallery cum museum built in the early 1900's and set in a park. By this time most of us were starting to wilt in the heat. Outside ther were some elaborate horse drawn chariots for hire which seemed to be a real hit with the local ladies.

In the evening we all walked about half a mile to the Bar-B-Que restaurant for yet another meal.It was still very warm and the pavements were crowded making it difficult to keep up in our crocodile. The food was excellent but we were totally outfaced by the huge portions and everybody left with doggy bags to hand out to the idle poor. There weren't that many of these despite the bad press that Kolkata gets - it doesn't seem that different to Delhi or Jaipur.

Wednesday 9th March - Chai Korfee! Chai Korfee!

Early start again today. All breakfasted and on parade with full kit for 8.15. We say goodbye to the Cindrella and for the last time leap aboard the boneshakers and head off to New Jalpaiguri again - but this time the main, broad gauge station. Our guide has a lively, almost confrontational, conversation with a bunch of red coated porters who then load up with our luggage (3 or 4 pieces each) and head off at a cracking pace towards the platform. The place is full of Sikh soldiers as there is a troop train in the station.
Our train comes in about 20 minutes late and there is a frantic scrum of D@Lers and porters, who eventually give up on trying to get all of our luggage on the racks. We finish up having to stack cases in the doorway - alright until the train stops with the platform on that side.
This train is much less ritzy than those we have travelled on previously. It has one single air conditioned second class chair car that we half fill, and the rest of the train is made up of general class seating with no glass in the windows. Our car has a plaque stating that it was rehabilitated in 2006 - presumably from the scrapyard. Several of the seats refuse to stay upright, the windows are held together with gaffer tape and the lights flicker constantly. Only the a/c works properly at a level which persuades several of the group to don fleeces. Outside it is in the high 30s C.
Standing in the open doorways of the train we head southwards across Bengal which is absolutely flat and mainly very rural. A lot of rice is grown here and it was interesting to see different stages in the cultivation cycle in adjacent fields. Some of the fields were being ploughed using pairs of oxen and old wooden ploughs.
The long journey was enlivened by the constant flow of hawkers and vendors. Never more than five minutes went by without the cry of "Chai, korfee! Chai, korfee!" (Tea, coffee) Chai is made by pouring hot spiced, sweetened milk onto a tea bag. It isn't as bad as it sounds. One chap offered lemon chai, without milk but with so much sugar as to be undrinkable. Indians consider people who drink tea without sugar to be certifiable lunatics.
As we moved south the variety of goods on sale increased - snacks, peanuts, coconut slices, cakes, biscuits, books, newspapers, blankets, tablecloths (!) and toys and probably other things were paraded through the train. At one point we were even treated to a dispute between two sets of chai vendors, presumably about who got to sell in which coach. Towards the end of our trip a chai wallah appeared who was selling in traditional clay pots, the original single use packaging. We couldn't miss the chance to sample and it did taste better.
After numerous signal halts we eventually pulled into an eerily deserted Kolkata station two hours late. The coach had been waiting 5 hours for some inexplicable reason. The traffic was fairly quiet and we were soon at the Peerless Inn and having a late buffet dinner. D ordered two Kingfishers without realising that they were over £5 each! We need to find an off licence.
Everybody was absolutely shattered.

Tuseday 8th March - Farewell to Steam

The party on the terrace must have gone on for a while last night as the empties were still there as we went to breakfast. Most people are having a relaxed start today as the boneshakers aren't leaving until 10.15. Our destination is New Jalpaiguri station, the southernmost point on the DHR and a very busy broad gauge junction. There is the usual throng around the station and we are not helped by the fact that our local guide took us to the wrong entrance. In the distance we espied the narrow gauge platforms and eventually got there. It is heartening to see that Indian Railways is an equal opportunity employer. Not only could these ladies carry concrete, they could mix it as well.
Our train was delayed as it was necessary for it to get a path between the numerous broad gauge trains heading for the North Assam line. Eventually it pulled in, much to the consternation of the people who live on the platform. There hasn't been a train on this bit of line for months. The train buffs were delighted to see that we had a different loco, no 792 Hawkeye, built by Baldwins in the USA in 1917. There was plenty of room for track level photography and they even staged a false start to allow for the photographers to get both photos and a train ride. D bagged the rear seats in the observation coach at the back of the train where a window allowed photography back down the line.
The route curves out of NJP, parallel to the broad gauge North Assam line, which it crosses on the level, very exciting for train buffs. We stopped at Siliguri Town station and were descended on by urchins who totally cleaned R out of sweets, pencils and balloons. Some of our hard cases walked on ahead to photograph the train travelling through the bazaar. D stuck to photographs out of the rear of the train, including some of them running to catch up with us. As the train progresses through the bazaar, whistle shrieking, the crowd closes in behind it across the track and life returns to normal until the next train. The Health & Safety Mafia in the UK would have a fit if they saw this. There was a short pause to pick up the photographers then we were off across the Makananda bridge,shared by both broad and narrow gauge tracks in a gauntletted arrangement - absolutely thrilling!
At Siliguri Junction we had to wait for a clear path so the crew disappeared for a chai break. We took the chance to be small boys and have our photos taken on the footplate. When they returned we resumed our seats and continued up to Sukna, with the usual frantic activity on the part of the lineside population as the train approached and after it had passed. Back at the Cindrella it was time to start packing for our next move. Some of the group headed for the Harry Krishna temple while we hit the bar with the unredeemed. Tonight's buffet was something special including momos, dosas and all of our favourite veggie dishes. R's new top was a sensation and the talk of every steamie along the Sevoke Road.

Monday 7th March - A day in Siliguri

An idle day to day with a lie in. Until the chai wallah comes to knock on our door at 7.30. Today is our 31st wedding anniversary and we have decided to celebrate by having a boneshaker free day. About half of the group are taking the day trip to Kalimpong, 3 hours drive back up into the mountains but we have a late breakfast, catch up on the blog e-mail etc, then take a tuk-tuk into town. We don't have a map of Siliguri, nor do we know the names of any of the key features apart from the railway station so we head there and start to walk. We found ourselves in a quiet, shady part of town lacking only a significant retail experience. Eventually we turned into a street complete with a local market - lots of colour but not really what we were looking for. As we follow the road we realise that we have come in a big circle back to the station. At this point an optimist with a cycle rickshaw hailed us and offered a ride to the shops for 30 rupees. He certainly earned his money - at one point he roped in two small boys to push. We gave him a decent tip. The shops had everything that you could want as long as it was used tyres or water pumping equipment. Eventually we found a general market down a side street and succesfully purchased the extra bag that R considers needed for all of the swag that she intends to purchase. So much for travelling light.
By this time we were ready for a drink so we t-t'd back to the air-conditioned splendour of the Cindrella for a beer, a dosa and a siesta. Our next official duty was the 11th Annual DHR Lovers Conference, definitely a must for the hard core enthusiast. Most people just went for the free beer, a master-stroke on the part of the organisers.Afterwards D had an interesting chat with a retired Indian Railways general manager about the possibility of loaning a B Class to Glasgow for the Commonwealth Games. Festivities concluded with a few more beers on the terrace and the screening of a couple of classic Bollyrail numbers.

Sunday 6th March - The second longest day

Inevitably we have a disturbed night as we need to be up early - a combination of howling dogs and hot and cold running trains. At 5.30 our "bed tea" arrives - no milk but so much sugar that a spoon stands vertical. We gather on the car park and learn that the dogs had been spooked by a wild elephant in the scrub outside the perimeter. Our jeep drivers hold an impromptu union meeting before deciding that we can go.
We drive out into the misty jungle where at first there is little to see. Our party arrive at the first watch tower where there are a couple of bison out in the gloom. Fortunately there are a few birds to look at which keeps us amused until it is time to move to the next watchtower. The sun is now burning off the mist and we can see further and start to spot a few more birds. There are a lot of peacocks making quite a racket as they perch surprisingly high up in the trees.
Our guide announces time to depart and we get back on the jeeps. As we head along the track we suddenly see two rhinos ahead. They disappear into the scrub but we are soon alongside one of them. Apparently they have been fighting and this one looks to have come off worst. We drive on a few yards then suddenly the other one appears on the track ahead looking rather aggressive. At this point the driver stalled the engine. Fortunately the rhino steps aside and obligingly poses for photos.

A quick breakfast back at the lodge then it is time to board the boneshakers for a ride back to Siliguri through rural North Bengal. It is difficult to decide whether being able to see the oncoming traffic hazards is preferable to playing Blind Man's Buff in the dark as we did on the outward journey. Back at the Cindrella preparations are in full swing for a wedding. Boneshaker 1 manages to tear down part of the welcoming arch. We grab a not very quick lunch as we watch South Africa turn the screw on England in the ODI.
Next up is a trip on the DHR in the dining car. At Siliguri Junction Tusker is ready with a short train and we climb on board. Dinner is two sittings and we are in batch 2 so we enjoy the ride through the suburbs and across the plain to Sukna, where we swop coaches.
The thing is done with a certain amount of style as we enjoy a four course meal and a seemingly endless supply of beer. One forgets the joys of eating soup on a lurching train.By the time we reach our destination it is dark and we are treated to the sight of a Darjeeling B class running with its headlamp on main beam.
When the boneshakers get us back to the Cindrella the wedding party is warming up nicely, and as we have been invited as a group, we hang around taking photos of the groom arriving to a barrage of fireworks and a very enthusiastic set of drummers. After a bit of ritual we all move into the specially constructed wedding garden - like something out of the Arabian nights. The eating and (non alcoholic) drinking started straight away and we were chided for not eating enough. In due course the bride and groom are invited to mount a podium which begins to revolve as they are sprayed with petals and exchange garlands.

We did not want to outstay our welcome so left the main party but were ambushed by the paan stall where we were talked into sampling their wares, R had silver leaf added to hers. Very interesting! We had a nightcap on the terrace with some of the group and all agreed that it had been quite a day.