Last one

[Dave]

There was fighting between the Kar Savaks and another religious group which eventually led to street fighting and a total curfew, foreigners were exempt from the curfew. The media was also silenced as it seemed to be fuelling the fighting. The train from Calcutta to Varanasi was sometimes pulled by an electric engine sometimes diesel. It was unfortunate that at this part of the line it was electric and the riots had closed down the power supply. The train was stranded in oblivion. Incredibly, the word spread to unseen nearby villages who poured out with chai, samosas, Fanta etc etc etc. There were no bad tempers, everybody seemed to take it in their stride. Maybe 12 hours later the power returned and on the approach to Varanasi the curfew had yet to take effect. Along the edge of the line there were large groups of what appeared to be weavers, carpets, cloth and other produce. The hotel welcomed me and advised that a total curfew would start that evening for 3 days. Next morning it was, for India, strangely quiet……..apart from the occasional gunshots. I made my way back to the extremely well kept station with floral displays in pots and hanging baskets and along to the railway line to where I'd seen the weavers. There was an occasional ting ting ting behind me. Mr ting ting, a cyclist, his bell jingling as he bumped over the railway sleepers, caught me up on his ancient bike. He called me to his side and in the most gentle way warned me not to go any further as my life may be in danger. I explained that I wanted to meet the weavers but he confirmed the curfew would keep them indoors. He had risked arrest to chase after me. Would I like to join him for tea in his garden. It would be rude to refuse. On the way back he told me he was the Chief Horticultural Officer for Varanasi station and had worked in the railway service for many years. I commented that the flowers around the station were splendid. He explained the politics behind the riots and the effects of the curfew on everyone as we sat down next to a quickly erected fold out rusty steel table. He introduced his wife who laid a neat table cloth, teacups and saucers and offered some recently prepared coconut cake. Such gentle hospitality to strangers is common in India. They found it difficult to understand that I had not married or had no desire to have children. Virility is measured by how many children you have sired (in that case I was rubbish !) He had only one desire from me…….would I be so kind as to write him a letter when I returned home. I perceived that it might be some kind of treasure to show to his friends. How could anyone refuse. sample picture attached

 

[lozcb]

May i be so bold as to ask Dave are you a fifties child , you remeniss so eleoquently , i too worked all over the Middle east and East and West Africa , have a life full of tales to tell from my early day exploits , so different from travelling nowdays , just seemed so much more exciting then


regards loz

 

[OzzieAl]

Loz,

I think the truth is when we are young we see no danger, and the unknown just adds to the excitement. As we mature we see all the risks in life including the trip down the road to tesco's !!

Still I will continue to do my best and grow old disgracefully!!! enjoying every moment I can get after all nothing lasts for ever!

Ozzie

 

[Dave]

Loz.........correct, I survived the hippy mind expanding periods, just. Worked in a responsible position and used to release all the frustration of political correctness and beaurocracy (can't spell !) on solo adventures. Don't be shy.....put some of yours down as well