Dalama Adventures Tale of two corporate types ditching their jobs and traveling the world for 14 months... check out all photos, blogs & interesting tid bits at http://www.dalama.net

We headed out on our 14-hour, second-class, air-conditioned 3-tier sleeper train from Mumbai, down the coast to Goa.  It was easy to navigate the station and to arrive at our correct carriage.  There were large signs for arrivals, departures and platforms.  Once we located the platform, we were able to find the infamous dot-matrix printouts showing confirmed passenger seats and carriages.  Fighting off the ‘red coats’ (touts trying to make a buck carrying your luggage to your seat), we proceeded to nearly the very end of the train for our bed for the next 14 hours.  Now it’s important to note that we’ve never taken a 3-tier class seat before.  In first class, there are 4 people to a sleeping, stacked by two aside in a compartment, and you have a glass door that slide shut that you can lock.  In 2^nd class 2-tier, there are 4 to a compartment, with two additional berths on the alleyway of the carriage, and there’s a curtain you can draw closed to separate compartment from alleyway.  But in 2^nd class 3-tier, it’s even better.  They cram 6 beds into one compartment like sardines, slid one on top of the other three to a side, and two in the carriage alleyway, no curtain for privacy.  Darrin and I were assigned berths in the alley-way, which was probably the best option for us… but our other 6 sleeping mates in the carriage, 6 very large men who snored loudly, and played Indian tunes on their cell phones all night, were the entertainment. 

My top level berth was particularly comfy… the emergency exit light and fan right above my head that never turned off, chocolate stains on the sheets, and a half opened and spilled bag of dried peas. Good thing we brought our silk sleep sacks J .  Every time the train rounded a corner, I nearly rolled out of the bunk.  However, I was much relieved to be on the top bunk- as there was no privacy on this train and aside from the few female/male couple tourists heading down on the Goa pat, most travelers were men.  I’d heard stories of solo women on bottom berths of trains being groped while sleeping.  Darrin happily took the lower berth to spare me from that experience.  Darrin also got the entertaining food crew that came by every 10 minutes, calling out in their chanting, distinctive tones, “coffee, coffee… chai, chai, veg-e-ta-ble cheeeeeze sand-weeech”.  We opted not to sample any of the local train delicacies. 

The other exciting feature of Indian train travel is the oh, so special toilet facilities.  I managed to go 11 of the 14 hours without using the restroom… but not so fortunate to make it the entire trip.  A visit to the nasty metal squatter was my wake up call in the morning.  One word of wisdom that we learned from our Delhi train experience earlier… never use the toilet when the train is stopped, as it’s just a hole that opens to the tracks below, and it all piles up from others who have boldly gone before you, the smell is not tolerable.  Of course, when you go in transit you also need to contend with the slippery foot treads and seeing the ground fly by underneath you.  All in all, it’s quite a memorable experience you won’t forget.  And of course we loaded up on toilet paper – hand made rolls before we left the states (thanks Don, for your fine workmanship on those with me), and purell to cleanse the hands.