Bombay to Darjeeling, part 0

The trip began, as all trips in India must begin, with a plunge into the insane world that routinely orchestrates the movement of one sixth of the world's people. To get to Darjeeling from Mumbai, we decided to fly to Kolkata (Calcutta), thus saving two days of train riding. From Kolkata we took the train to New Jalpaiguri/Siliguri, and from there, a shared jeep up into the hills.

A friend at TIFR recommended Traveler, a travel agent nearby. We went there and Aref found us a list of a few cheap flights to Kolkata. He tried to look up the available trains, but the Indian railways website (perhaps the busiest website in the world) wasn't responding so well. "It will be better if you just go to the train station and buy your tickets there. Do that, and then call to tell me what flight you want." He printed out our flights and wished us luck.

We had experience with the Foreign Tourist Quota window from buying our tickets to visit Ajanta. That time was not too difficult, the only minor hitch being when he asked for the passports and Rhi mentioned that she hadn't brought hers. The ticket agent bent the rules and sold us an unreserved ticket for Rhi without making us go downstairs and wait in the normal lines, which meant that she and Mike had to share a bunk on the way to Jalgaon. This time, we had to wait behind a long line of backpackers headed down to Goa for New Year's. By the time we got to the window, there was a bit of a line behind Rhi and I (Mike was still under the weather with whatever caught him at Ajanta). It took a little bit of explaining to get the first pair of tickets for Mike and Rhi. Most of the trains were totally full. At one point there was a question of whether or not a connection from flight to train would be possible, and our ticket man (not the same guy as before) called his friend who happened to be from Kolkata to ask him. The ticket guys friend wobbled his head, made a "this far apart" gesture with his hands, and then smacked his hands together in a gesture representing Mike and Rhi missing their train. So they got the other ticket.

Then the confusing part. We wanted another pair of the same tickets for the next day. Since we didn't have Jill's passport, we had to ask for another ticket for Rhi. The idea of her coming back and then taking the same train, combined with the similarities between Mike's passport and mine (he's legally Michael Treisman) had the guy pretty frustrated. Rhi and I tried to explain our scheme, and the guy behind the window tried to get rid of us, and I felt the impatience of the line behind at my back.

Eventually, we walked downstairs with two pairs of tickets from Sealdah to NJP. I called Aref and he bought us the plane tickets. Back at the Traveler, we traded credit card numbers and photocopies of passports for two neon orange envelopes full of plane tickets. Back at my apartment was a bottle of Chimay that we were very glad to have. The hard part done, all that remained was to take a taxi to the airport, fly across India, amuse ourselves in Calcutta for a day, take a train all night, and then figure out the jeep to Darjeeling thing.