Planes, Trains and Automobiles
Singapore - Colombo - Bangalore - Coimbatore
We are off to Kumar's wedding in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, India - August 31, 2005.
Sri Lankan Airlines
Graceful flight attendants, with flawless English albeit with a strong accent, and a wicked sense of humor. Their service was flawless, food is adequate and in-flight entertainment apparently voted as the "most entertaining" in 2005. Going through their selections, I have to admit that while not as numerous as SQ or CX, the movies are much more current and music has more variety than the other two.
Suresh spent several confounding minutes in a dilemma with a particularly charming flight attendant about whether he wanted tea or coffee. After dithering between the two flasks, Johann and I were exasperated and were ragging him, "Come on, Suresh, make up your mind."
Which he did, and I would have sworn he was blushing under his dark skin but I couldn't tell. I was subsequently told off by the smiling flight attendant, as I disembarked and stepped on the jetway - "Don't bully your friend too much!"
Trains
After arriving at Bangalore, we took the train the next day to Coimbatore. Contrary to popular opinion, India's rail system is quite extensive, surprisingly comfortable and punctual. Not to mention affordable - a First Class ticket costs the equivalent of S$10 for a 7-hour journey.
That doesn't mean that we got plush cushiony seats in cool window cabins with white-gloved waiters and soft music wafting from the loudspeakers. It doesn't mean we got a priority boarding process.
A First Class Train passenger on India Rail generally follows the order of behavior below:
1. Purchase tickets through phone, tickets are mailed to an Indian address. Pickup is your problem, not theirs.
2. Go to station platform early enough to find out, on an old signboard with handwritten remarks, that the car number on your ticket actually maps to a section number on the platform.
3. Hang around aimlessly and watch the many-colored saris mingle with white and cream-colored dhotis. It's quite easy to get from one platform to another - you scramble down to the gravel bits and cross the track, trying to not breathe in the bouquet of human waste, and then scramble back on the platform on the other side, preferably not using your hands (but sometimes, for short people like me, not quite succeeding).
4. When the train approaches, stand back and watch the crowd bunch up around the doorways, and observe in amused fashion as each bunch moves along with the slowing train.
5. When boarding train, do not get too amused or distracted by the train-riding practices of locals to not notice your pocket getting picked.
6. When running after person who picked said pocket, be sure to throw down all luggage and hand videocam to disoriented girlfriend.
7. When attempting to track down picker, do take note that train is beginning to move. Said disoriented girlfriend should scramble on board moving train with 2 camping backpacks, 2 daypacks and a videocam, getting a pull up from friendly passengers on the train, and a shove up from bystanders on the platform. Girlfriend should, at this point, be both a) thinking rapidly through worst-case Plan B's in case boyfriend is stuck on platform; and b) trying to slow down breathing as train picks up speed.
8. Concurrently, Indian friend who has train tickets should also be scrambling up the train accompanied by well-meaning unsolicited advice from passengers, helplessly watching train tickets fall out of pocket and float away on the platform.
9. Pickpocket victim should then settle down in seat, use girlfriend's mobile to stop all credit cards etc., and curse stupid bad luck that has followed him since he won the "13 Wonders" hand at Mahjong.
Aside from the above, it's very comfortable to ride First Class - it is air-conditioned, seats are made of cracked pleather but still nice to sit on. The seat numbers have no meaning as there is a complex swap system that everyone seems to be happy with. The best thing is the food, which is not restricted just to First Class.
Staff carry trays of snacks, fresh juices, bottled drinks, dosai, samosas and pakoras, complete with freshly ladled dipping sauces. There is a running supply of hot masala tea, hot sudanese coffee, hot soup, which the man dispenses into a little paper cup from a canister held between his knees. For lunch, you could get all kinds of briyanis. Nothing costs more than 40 Rupees (less than US$1), presentation is nothing fancy (wrapped in wax paper or served on paper plates, you eat with your hands) but it's filling, it's fresh, it's cheap and there's lots of it.
Automobiles
Traffic in Bangalore, Coimbatore and even the hill stations of Ooty and Coonoor have changed from the dusty memories of the colonials ala Hemingway and Kipling. No smiley cheery skinny Indian coolie held slavery to carrying a rickshaw with his bare hands and running with shoeless feet over the sunburnt pavement pebbled with rocks and debris.
Instead you see TATA lorries, loaded with goods and spewing black exhaust fumes. Mid-sized cars carrying large families. Colorless bicycles and scooters driven by dour Indian men decorated by women in colorful saris. Minivans and 4-wheel-drives zipping this way and that, as taxis on call. Rebuilt scooters everywhere that have a 2-seater on the back and a hardtop cover, painted standard canary-yellow, carrying passengers for a metered fare -- the new Autorickshaws.
One cute thing - there are many old Ambassador Novas acting as taxis for a slightly higher fare - and they were fun to ride in, providing some long-forgotten regal presence to the dusty Indian streets.
Welcome to India in the 21st century.
P.S. Barry said it best - the two most useless signs in India:
1. Sound Horn (because everyone does it anyway all the time, so this sign is redundant, yet it's on the back of almost every vehicle)
2. Do not overtake on blind curves (which was soundly ignored by all the vehicles we were on, much to Johann's glee and my dismay)
We are off to Kumar's wedding in Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, India - August 31, 2005.
Sri Lankan Airlines
Graceful flight attendants, with flawless English albeit with a strong accent, and a wicked sense of humor. Their service was flawless, food is adequate and in-flight entertainment apparently voted as the "most entertaining" in 2005. Going through their selections, I have to admit that while not as numerous as SQ or CX, the movies are much more current and music has more variety than the other two.
Suresh spent several confounding minutes in a dilemma with a particularly charming flight attendant about whether he wanted tea or coffee. After dithering between the two flasks, Johann and I were exasperated and were ragging him, "Come on, Suresh, make up your mind."
Which he did, and I would have sworn he was blushing under his dark skin but I couldn't tell. I was subsequently told off by the smiling flight attendant, as I disembarked and stepped on the jetway - "Don't bully your friend too much!"
Trains
After arriving at Bangalore, we took the train the next day to Coimbatore. Contrary to popular opinion, India's rail system is quite extensive, surprisingly comfortable and punctual. Not to mention affordable - a First Class ticket costs the equivalent of S$10 for a 7-hour journey.
That doesn't mean that we got plush cushiony seats in cool window cabins with white-gloved waiters and soft music wafting from the loudspeakers. It doesn't mean we got a priority boarding process.
A First Class Train passenger on India Rail generally follows the order of behavior below:
1. Purchase tickets through phone, tickets are mailed to an Indian address. Pickup is your problem, not theirs.
2. Go to station platform early enough to find out, on an old signboard with handwritten remarks, that the car number on your ticket actually maps to a section number on the platform.
3. Hang around aimlessly and watch the many-colored saris mingle with white and cream-colored dhotis. It's quite easy to get from one platform to another - you scramble down to the gravel bits and cross the track, trying to not breathe in the bouquet of human waste, and then scramble back on the platform on the other side, preferably not using your hands (but sometimes, for short people like me, not quite succeeding).
4. When the train approaches, stand back and watch the crowd bunch up around the doorways, and observe in amused fashion as each bunch moves along with the slowing train.
5. When boarding train, do not get too amused or distracted by the train-riding practices of locals to not notice your pocket getting picked.
6. When running after person who picked said pocket, be sure to throw down all luggage and hand videocam to disoriented girlfriend.
7. When attempting to track down picker, do take note that train is beginning to move. Said disoriented girlfriend should scramble on board moving train with 2 camping backpacks, 2 daypacks and a videocam, getting a pull up from friendly passengers on the train, and a shove up from bystanders on the platform. Girlfriend should, at this point, be both a) thinking rapidly through worst-case Plan B's in case boyfriend is stuck on platform; and b) trying to slow down breathing as train picks up speed.
8. Concurrently, Indian friend who has train tickets should also be scrambling up the train accompanied by well-meaning unsolicited advice from passengers, helplessly watching train tickets fall out of pocket and float away on the platform.
9. Pickpocket victim should then settle down in seat, use girlfriend's mobile to stop all credit cards etc., and curse stupid bad luck that has followed him since he won the "13 Wonders" hand at Mahjong.
Aside from the above, it's very comfortable to ride First Class - it is air-conditioned, seats are made of cracked pleather but still nice to sit on. The seat numbers have no meaning as there is a complex swap system that everyone seems to be happy with. The best thing is the food, which is not restricted just to First Class.
Staff carry trays of snacks, fresh juices, bottled drinks, dosai, samosas and pakoras, complete with freshly ladled dipping sauces. There is a running supply of hot masala tea, hot sudanese coffee, hot soup, which the man dispenses into a little paper cup from a canister held between his knees. For lunch, you could get all kinds of briyanis. Nothing costs more than 40 Rupees (less than US$1), presentation is nothing fancy (wrapped in wax paper or served on paper plates, you eat with your hands) but it's filling, it's fresh, it's cheap and there's lots of it.
Automobiles
Traffic in Bangalore, Coimbatore and even the hill stations of Ooty and Coonoor have changed from the dusty memories of the colonials ala Hemingway and Kipling. No smiley cheery skinny Indian coolie held slavery to carrying a rickshaw with his bare hands and running with shoeless feet over the sunburnt pavement pebbled with rocks and debris.
Instead you see TATA lorries, loaded with goods and spewing black exhaust fumes. Mid-sized cars carrying large families. Colorless bicycles and scooters driven by dour Indian men decorated by women in colorful saris. Minivans and 4-wheel-drives zipping this way and that, as taxis on call. Rebuilt scooters everywhere that have a 2-seater on the back and a hardtop cover, painted standard canary-yellow, carrying passengers for a metered fare -- the new Autorickshaws.
One cute thing - there are many old Ambassador Novas acting as taxis for a slightly higher fare - and they were fun to ride in, providing some long-forgotten regal presence to the dusty Indian streets.
Welcome to India in the 21st century.
P.S. Barry said it best - the two most useless signs in India:
1. Sound Horn (because everyone does it anyway all the time, so this sign is redundant, yet it's on the back of almost every vehicle)
2. Do not overtake on blind curves (which was soundly ignored by all the vehicles we were on, much to Johann's glee and my dismay)
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