The Midnight Train

Travelling from Fort Kochi in Kerala to the Shantivanum Ashram was one of the more ‘interesting’ journeys of the time in India. Having taken an additional impromptu tour of Fort Kochi (ask me later about my entanglements with the various auto-rickshaw (tuk tuk) drivers of Fort Kochi), we were dropped off at Ernakulum Town Station. From the outside, there is absolutely nothing that would suggest it was a train station. Nothing. No name. No obvious entrance. Nothing!

The driver of our auto-rickshaw had very helpfully looked up the platform from which we would be leaving (there were only two – rather than the eight or ten we had imagined), as well as which carriage (of which there were at least eighteen). I had booked a Sleeper Carriage, Ladies, to leave Ernakulum Town at 4.05pm. We arrived just over an hour early in order to ensure we found the correct platform (not knowing there were only two!) The platform was pleasantly busy – as well as open, airy and very hot! We were fascinated (and slightly terrified) by the way in which people boarded/alighted the train from track side as well as platform... 

The information board indicated that our train was going to about an hour late. We sat down to wait. An update… about an hour and a half late… and so it continued, until the train eventually arrived – about an hour and three quarters late! Meanwhile, a friend in the US was tracking our (lack of!) progress, and sent over a webpage for the up-to-date status of the train. (Shall I mention now or later that we were due at our mid-point, change-of-train station (Erode Junction) at 10.35pm in order to catch a train leaving Erode Junction at 1:45am?)

We eventually left Ernakulum Town at around 6pm… and the Sleeper Carriage, Ladies turned out to be well, not Ladies only and not ‘Sleeper’ until around 9pm or so. (Not if you were on the bottom or middle berth (of three) at any rate.) As we went on, the train got further and further behind in time.

I had some interesting conversations with people who were sitting nearby (my travelling companion had taken herself up to her top berth in order to sleep!) but, as the train was most definitely not going to be at our destination in time to make the change-over at Erode Junction, I was rather more hesitant about putting my head down. Eventually, I succumbed. I set the timer on my phone 45 minutes, on the off chance we might catch up time, and slept. There were no announcements, no explanations and even the chaps offering water, chai, ‘kaffee, kaffee’, biriyani or samosa gave up at around 10pm. No pillows. No mattresses. No blankets. Windows with no covering – only bars to keep people out… through the darkness of the night the train continued. Me with my 45 minutes bites of sleep having had the general ’we are all going to sleep now so let’s put the middle berths down now’ take place at around 9.30pm.

Through the darkness we went, giving up on making our connection for 1:45am. We eventually pulled in to Erode Junction at 3.15am. Oh my. Only four and a half hours late. Wow. The train still ran though. No cancellation. It’s total journey time from where it began to where the journey ended is normally scheduled to be 19 hours or so, and it runs only once a day. Cancelling that train would be a nightmare for anyone who was seeking to travel on that day or the next.

Erode Junction at 3.15am with a ticket for a train that was long gone, with no Hindi/Tamil vocabulary or anything useful! A wander down to the ticket office – stepping over sleeping bodies strewn over the Hooking Hall as I went – and the ticket chap said I should wait 10 minutes and then his colleague would help me. There were other people people trying to buy tickets in the middle of the night and some interested gazes looking on at this white woman sitting in the Booking Hall. I was taking it all in too… Trains arriving in the middle of the night, people buying tickets in the middle of the night, people sleeping on the Booking Office floor – as well as outside the station on the concourse. There was an eerie quietness, and yet the place was also very busy!

The colleague, who spoke perfect English, came along and acknowledged that the connecting tickets we had were going to be of no use. We needed a ‘local ticket’ (priced at 7 Rupees – about 6 pence) and our train would leave at 4.30am.

We were just so hungry and thirsty. All the food kiosks that were open were selling samosa, curry, dhal… which was, even for us, not for 3am! We ended up with bananas and popcorn! Also, never mind the sugar content, 7Up…

When the train arrived, there were no seats to be had, so we propped ourselves up in the corridor. The doors of the train didn’t close properly, so we spent the next 3 hours watching distant lights pass us by, with the occasional station stop… and then sunrise. Watching the sun begin to glow was a beautiful thing. Here's a video!

As the day began, those who were sleeping on the Sleeper Train began to rouse – and the chaps offering water, chai, ‘kaffee, kaffee’, biriyani or samosa began their calls as they journeyed up and down the train. We eventually arrived at our destination of Tiruchirappalli at 7.15 where we discovered a station café and fell upon the most delicious Dosa.

After re-fuelling with food, as we hadn’t eaten properly since the previous day’s lunch, we headed out to the taxi rank and picked up an auto-rickshaw. Out into the countryside we headed – seeing massive statues of Hindu gods as we travelled. Our rickshaw driver was not too sure of where we were headed – which as a tad concerning – but Google Maps was a help!

Arriving at the Ashram (towards which we had been bound since 2pm the previous day) at around 10am, we drove into a place of peace – in our noisy rickshaw! – as people there looked on.

Michele and I were absolutely exhausted but, as Michele said, the journey was something neither of us would have wanted to miss: conversations, experiences, sunrise over the Indian countryside… amazing gifts.