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We spent most of today trying to book train tickets for the rest of our trip. The whole thing has gotten planned a little late, especially by India travel standards, and now I am learning that it will be even later.

We finally finalized the itinerary only about 1 week ago, and though I have a list of all the trains we want to take and whether they have a waiting list, I haven’t yet booked the tickets or gotten on the waiting lists.

I first tried to put us on the various waiting lists just after we finished the itinerary. You have to purchase a “ticket”, then wait to see if you move up the waiting list and become confirmed. If you aren’t confirmed, then you can’t go on your trip. UNLESS you can get tatkal tickets, which go on sale 2 days before the date of travel, at 8 am. Apparently those tickets disappear by about 8:03 am, but some people have special powers over the system and can almost for sure get them. Those people pay someone to stand in line at the train stations, so they will be among the first to make the purchases. The regular tickets go on sale 90 days before date of travel, and they too disappear quickly, especially for the big tourist routes (e.g. our itinerary) and during festival times (e.g. Oct – Nov) and big tourist travel times (Nov).

Keep in mind all of this is happening in 6,909 different train stations across the country, in a system that carries over 20 million (yes, that’s million) passengers and 2 million TONS of freight EVERY DAY. That would be 10% of the US population moving on trains daily. Wouldn’t that be a mess.

SO when I first tried to get the waiting list tickets in Arpora I was told I had to purchase them at the train station. Not an easy task in Goa, where the 2 stations are 45 minutes and 90 minutes from our house. So I tried the IRCTC (Indian Railways) website. No go. Although it appears that they accept several hundred different credit cards, none of mine has ever worked. How about “Make My Trip” a travel site that recently started booking rail tickets? Nope. They don’t accept foreign credit cards for train tickets. They do for everything else, but not for train tickets.

Well then, I’d get a travel agent to help. I inquired, got some numbers, lost my phone, and promptly forgot about that option.

I decided I would go directly to the Make My Trip office in Delhi and give them cash for the tickets.

That’s how today started — me and Layla wandering around Connaught Place looking for a functioning ATM machine. Along the way we found one of the coolest stationary stores that I have ever been in. Though the stock isn’t quite so huge as my favorite stationers in Boston, Bob Slate, the New Delhi Stationary Mart gets my vote for favorite because they were so incredibly sweet with Layla. She made off with 2 pencils, one regular size and one almost as tall as she is!

The stationary store was a lovely interruption on our quest for ATMs, which ended at the 5th bank we encountered. We wandered around a bit more, trying to find the entrance to Make My Trip’s building, but found it, went upstairs, and cheerfully presented ourselves to the bank of travel agents in the office. We were immediately informed that the only way to book rail tickets is on their website. Fail.

One of the many scams in India involves travel agents. Actually, many of the innumerable scams include travel agents. They do everything from book non-existing tickets to overcharging to not mentioning oh yeah, you are responsible for the food and lodging for your driver. So I asked the Don’t Make My Trip folks for travel agent advice and they waved vaguely in a direction and said “just go down the road, cross at the light, and you’ll see one right there.” My requests for clarification yielded none, so we headed on our way.

Oh yeah! Keep in mind that all of this involves a sometimes-impatient 2 year old! Layla is absolutely marvelous, but she doesn’t really love to wander around aimlessly in the heat or sit in offices while I talk minute travel details with large unfamiliar men.

Which is what we did next. Completely against my better judgement I went to a random travel agent on the street. It said “official Indian tourist agency,” which I knew probably meant no more than that they booked tickets on official Indian means of transport, like he train. Nonetheless, I wanted to see what they would say. But I wanted to do it quickly. Mr. Bundu wanted to be my friend, and wanted to help me so much. It was truly touching. After 30 minutes, one Layla tantrum, only one (identifiable) attempt to overcharge and 1/2 a cup of chai tea, I left with no more information, except that I really had to go directly to the train station to figure all this out.

So that’s what we did, after a snack and bit of a nap. To the train station! After a 15 minute walk from our hotel to the station, through the main market street of Pahar Gang, one of Delhi’s seedier areas, we arrived at the station. We followed the extremely large signs for the International Tourist Booking office and dutifully followed the warnings to disregard any offers from anyone but an official licensed agent of the Booking office. By the time we left I was hoping to find someone to make a bargain with, since I couldn’t book any of our tickets at all.

It turns out that to book a ticket in the Foreign Tourist Quota you must have the actual passports and visas of all people travelling. Which means, basically, they have to be present. That’s a bit of a problem for us, since Brian is in Bahrain until tomorrow and Tania is in the US until Oct 31.

Oh well. No chance of making that work out.

I returned to our hotel to look for the information about the travel agent that our friend Mahima has forwarded to us a while ago and of course, the internet was down.

I texted a friend Mayur, who usually lives in Delhi but is in Goa on vacation, and got his travel agent’s information. Naseer, his agent, looked up all the details but I couldn’t understand him on the phone so I didn’t know what the status of our tickets was. And I couldn’t have him email me since our internet was down.

But one thing is clear: we don’t have a good enough travel agent to get us nearly-guaranteed tatkal tickets, and many of the segments of our trip include wait listed trains. And we aren’t even on the waiting list yet!

Fortunately, we can easily hire a car and driver for the one part of our trip that includes the most trains and the lowest probability of confirmed tickets. But this has been such a hassle. Not how I had planned to spend our time in Delhi.

At 3 pm I decided to stop worrying about the train tickets and go DO something in Delhi. Layla and I gathered our stuff and hit the road. And you know, we had a lovely time. Tune in for that story next.

Especially when it gets us through airport security.

India’s airport security seems even quirkier and more unpredictable than TSA in the US. The rules are different each time we travel somewhere. This time they cared about liquids, and wanted me to take them all out. Sometimes they make you throw them away. I was very worried, since I had a bunch of herbal medicines and flower essences. Just then Layla started to scream because she wanted her cup back from those mean security people. After a few moments they just piled everything back into my bag and send us on our way.

We are off on our big dash across North India, our first and last chance to travel in India before returning to the US in November.

We were sent off by friends Emma, Essie and others, with a lovely breakfast at Artjuna, one of our favorite spots. After a few false starts we made it to the airport with time to spare. I learned (again) that it is always good to work in a little extra travel time, especially in India and with a 2 year old. In this case the taxi driver got lost and picked us up 30 minutes late, and then we forgot one of Layla’s essential travel items: her tiger backpack.

Layla was super flash in the airport with her boots and backpack and stroller, pushing her favorite Lion named Veekee (all her animals and dolls are named Veekee).

She wouldn’t let me take a picture of her from the front, so that’s the best I’ve got.

Of course, she wanted to push the stroller everywhere, even onto the plane. But the big drama occurred when we the security people wanted to inspect our boarding pass as everyone crowded around to get on the bus to the plane. Layla refused to hand over her boarding pass, and ended up screaming and throwing herself onto the ground. Fortunately, her head hit someone’s shoe (as he informed me a bit later), and after a moment I managed to coax the paper from her.

As we walked towards the bus I explained to her that we needed to show the paper to other people, and that the airline ticket taker would need it when we got to the plane, and then they would give it right back. She looked around and tried to hand the boarding pass to the closest adult!

Once in Delhi our taxi driver got completely lost looking for our hotel. He asked at least10 different people if they knew where it was, and no one could help. Delhi is, of course, a huge city and our hotel is in Pahar Gang, an area filled with literally hundreds of hotels. I can understand why he didn’t know the location off hand, but I began to worry when no one else knew anything. In my travel-addled mind I began to wonder if the place even existed, or if the taxi driver would give up on our selected hotel and bring us somewhere where he knew someone and would get a kick back. Our breakfast conversatin at ArtJuna certainly didn’t help my anxiety. Emma and Hulda shared stories of their arrival in India, when they were brought to seedy and frightening hotels by unscrupulous taxi drivers. They escaped with a good story, and we were also unscathed. Our 90 minute taxi ride ended with us arriving in the hotel and checking in, when I was assured that “the power will only be out for another 30 minutes.”

Tally so far:
Km: 1,800
Modes of transport: 2 Taxis, 2 buses, 1 train
Animals (in addition to the ubiquitous dogs) Elephant, oxen

Yup, that’s a temple elephant. We see one almost every day,sometimes many.

Everytime Layla sees the moon she says ‘Time to celebrate!”

This is from her Boynton Pajama Time book, which starts “The moon is up, Its getting late, It is time to celebrate”

In May, preparing for the monsoon rains, we packed up our house. Most toys, clothes and books went into huge ziplock bags which we sealed and put in a dry spot (Thanks Krishna for bringing the bags from the US!!). Anything we left out was at risk of mold infestation: first it would develop little black and white spots, then become covered in a fuzzy covering of mold. Mmmm, yum.

Fortunately we took care of all of Layla’s stuffed animals. We brought only a few special ones to India, and they were dutifully sealed and stored. When we returned to India I was so overwhelmed with everything that needed cleaning that I didn’t get the clean toys out!

Well, that’s not exactly true. Even the items that were carefully protected required some airing out. Everything has a musty odor, and it has been too wet to put them outside for airing.

Today, though, Layla stumbled upon the toy bags. She insisted that her father, who was accompanying her, open the bag and give her all the toys. He convinced her that two would suffice for now, and here she is, reading books with her dad, her lion and her green dread-locked bear.

After a while her dad fell asleep. And here’s the key question: which of these things is not like the other?

Gas. Electric. Water. Which two would you choose?

It seems we are limited to two of our three major utilities. For the first 3 weeks we didn’t have gas for our stove. Once we got the gas the power went out. The power went back on and now we have only a trickle from our faucets.

Things like washing clothes and making meals gets complicated. But, alas, we adapt. If it gets too bad we throw up our hands and go to the beach where none of it matters much.

No you may not have my Mozart cube. Especially after it took you (mama!) weeks to get the batteries replaced. And yes, I have a little bit of a cold.

Who knew that, hidden in this hotel/resort, there was a playground featuring a gigantic stegosaurus?

Until one week ago I thought that our neighborhood was completely devoid of playgrounds. Layla and I went to every playground we could find while we visited the US. She loves the slides, the stairs, the other kids. When we returned to India she asked about playgrounds over and over again. I had to tell her that, I was so so sorry, there were no playgrounds nearby. Gradually she stopped asking.

Then I learned about the Dino Park!

Layla was simply beside herself with joy when we first arrived.

She especially liked the orange slide

and the big purple slide

Rrrrwwwwwaaaaaaarrrrrrr!

But she was happiest when her friends Emma and Essie arrived, along with new friends Bijou and her son Maximo

As usual, she spent much of her time pushing Essie’s pink stroller while he pushed his big cart

Maximo crawled in and away they went!

Fortunately she let him out before pushing the stroller down the big green slide

(Disaster Baby strikes again!)

It was a lovely day.

Our friend Matt Bradley visited last week, along with his old friend Zach.

The morning they arrived it poured. Then they had perfect weather for 3 days. Goa in the late monsoon can be stunning — perfect blue skies, warm but not too hot, and not so many people (see Click Vrrrrooooom). They got a taste of what was possible with the rains, and then nothing but glory after that.

They were recovering from 24 hours of travel, so we spent a lot of time on the beach.

Here’s Zach

and Matt

Here’s both of them climbing out on the rocks

When she wasn’t honing her photography skills, Layla was busy this whole time in her fabulous shelter, brought all the way from the US by her Oma.

When playing with water she gets this funny expression on her face:

To further beat the jet lag blues we made lots of coffee (thanks Matt and Zach for bringing some fabulous beans from Swings Coffee in DC)

On their last day in Goa we decided to stop being beach bums and go see some sights.

Here’s a bunch of really old churches in Old Goa.

Layla and Matt were wiped out from having so much fun.

Oh, you mean I was supposed to make art with this stuff?

I am Art!