So, back in Darjeeling! It's a lot quieter than it was last month as the Hindu festivals are all over so there are fewer Indian tourists. I've enjoyed Darjeeling much more this time around. There's something quite nice when you're travelling and you re-visit somewhere, maybe because you already have a couple of favourite places, maybe it's the comfort of knowing where you're going!
I really can't say I've been particularly busy in the five days I've been here. I went to the zoo and saw some depressed-looking wolves and tigers, and I visited the Japanese Peace Pagoda. For some reason when you travel things take a really loooonggg time to do, so that it's taken me all day to take a two-hour train ride, change some money, have a coffee and use the internet.
Really what I want to write about is the Himalayan Toy Train which my Dad has been fascinated by since it was on TV a couple of years ago. It's not really a toy but it is a very small train that comes from Siliguri, 100M above sea level, all the way up to Darjeeling at above 2000M.
It is a very, very slow train. It might be quicker to walk. There is, or was, a service to Siliguri, but there was a landslide last year so the furthest 'real' service is to Kurseong, which is only a few miles down the hill. It takes eight hours to get to Siliguri by train, and about four by jeep. Most tourists do the 'joy ride' which takes you to Ghum, 7km down, and back. Because it's so slow you get to see lots of things that you miss when driving. You can see into people's gardens and you get to see the the town against the backdrop of the Himalayas (it was a particularly clear day today). All along the route people are selling vegetables, drinking tea and hanging out their washing, despite the fact that this is a steam train and puffs out huge clouds of sooty smoke.
As well as being slow, the train has the loudest whistle in the country. I know this for a fact because even the locals put their fingers in their ears as the train passes. Bear in mind that Indian drivers beep their horns constantly, for absolutely no reason, so that downtown Darjeeling is a real cacophony of out of key jeep, car, motorbike and bus horns. The train whistle is louder than all of these put together, and the driver blows the whistle for almost the entire duration of the ride. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he was deaf.
On my first blog story I had been to Devon and had thought that would be my last cream tea experience until I get home in July. Not so! Darjeeling was a retreat for the British living in Kolkata when it became too hot, and the expensive hotels still do afternoon tea between four and six. Clearly this was a very tempting idea, so on a really cold and wet Sunday afternoon, myself and a few others went to the Windamere for tea. And it was a proper afternoon tea with cucumber sandwiches, crusts removed, scones and cream, biscuits and as much Darjeeling tea as you could drink. All this was served in a room with comfy armchairs and a coal fire and it was a very pleasant way to spend a couple of hours while waiting for the Sunday football games to start. There's nothing like getting to know local customs when you're travelling......
