We were up early the next morning and after a spot of breakfast and a very bumpy taxi ride for about 6KMs, we were standing at the border ready to leave Nepal for India. We first had a couple of things to do in the border town, namely change our money and get processed by immigration. We don't like border towns. As a rule, they're seedy, dirty, noisy and nasty. Everyone seems to exist in them to impair your progress and take your money. Everything in them is overpriced and of dubious quality and anything anyone tells you, usually turns out to be a lie. For a more in depth analysis let me refer you to our earlier posts, The Cambodian Immigration Incident and The Carry On to Kathmandu.
We had had a tough time entering Nepal and we were braced for the same leaving it but as it turned out we had one of the best times yet. The money changer seemed fair and the staff at the immigration desk were laughing and having such a good time that they stamped Nikki's exit visa with an entry one. India's immigration was a little less friendly but as it consisted of a man sitting behind a desk at the side of the road he probably had reason to be a little disgruntled anyway. Then we got ourselves bundled into a jeep to head to the nearest train station at Gorakhpur. For the 3 hour journey, four of us sat in the back seat (for 3 people) three people sat in the front seat (for 2 people) and five people sat in the boot (for 2 people). We considered ourselves lucky that the driver couldn't find that one last person he was looking for to 'fill' the car before leaving.
At Gorakhpur station, a sight familiar to us from our days in China greeted us; Hundreds of ticket counters - each for specific destinations only, all with huge unmoving queues, and no clue where to go for our tickets to Varanasi. There was also a less familiar sight in the foyer, standing between the queues. A great big cow, which once it got a bit tired lay down for a bit, then got up again, relieved itself and lay down in a different spot, presumably as baffled by the queues as we were. After much stress and fighting with queue skippers we got to the front of the MP's, female's and foreigner's queue and then after further stress and hassle had ourselves a sleeper ticket to Varanasi. We had a long wait first though so took a brief sniff outside, decided it was all too much and far too scary (even this far in to our trip, India is still quite the assault for the new visitor) and hid in a retiring room at the station until night time.
This gave us time to reflect on Nepal, the country that we only visited because it was in the way, and only expected to stay in for about a week and a half but didn't leave for five weeks. It had been quite the little gem on our tour and definitely one of our favourite countries of them all. Somehow we never managed to do what most people do in Nepal which is launch ourselves off on a trek but we have most definitely not ruled this out for the future, though maybe we'll leave the white water alone. The array of adventures and activities and the cost of them is possibly at the best ratio in the world. The availability of western comforts, in terms of nice hotels and good food surpassed any of the other 'scary' countries we went through, and the people were some of the most friendly, and well informed we have had the pleasure of being with too. We very much liked Nepal and definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a cheap get away, that's not quite off the peg.
At 11 o'clock our sleeper train trundled into the station. We were sleeper class, which is the basic class for those who want to travel horizontal. The beds are three high, the foam mostly worn flat and you get no linen, pillows or privacy. It's fine though, so long as you don't have the bottom beds because if you do, you can say cheerio to any hope of getting a lie down as it seems perfectly normal practise to share your bench with anyone else who wants to sit there too. We had the top beds and had a reasonably good trip. The only horror of the trip was the sight that faced us in a toilet as we boarded the train and walked passed the flapping door. In a good news, bad news scenario we had the only carriage probably in the entire train that had a western toilet. The bad news being that someone who didn't know how to use it had stood on top of the seat in their familiar crouch position, somehow avoiding a broken neck in the jostling train but as a result actually missing the target and leaving a very neat smoldering deposit on the toilet seat itself. We managed the trip without a need to face the horror a second time and reached Varanasi early in the morning.
We had had a tough time entering Nepal and we were braced for the same leaving it but as it turned out we had one of the best times yet. The money changer seemed fair and the staff at the immigration desk were laughing and having such a good time that they stamped Nikki's exit visa with an entry one. India's immigration was a little less friendly but as it consisted of a man sitting behind a desk at the side of the road he probably had reason to be a little disgruntled anyway. Then we got ourselves bundled into a jeep to head to the nearest train station at Gorakhpur. For the 3 hour journey, four of us sat in the back seat (for 3 people) three people sat in the front seat (for 2 people) and five people sat in the boot (for 2 people). We considered ourselves lucky that the driver couldn't find that one last person he was looking for to 'fill' the car before leaving.
At Gorakhpur station, a sight familiar to us from our days in China greeted us; Hundreds of ticket counters - each for specific destinations only, all with huge unmoving queues, and no clue where to go for our tickets to Varanasi. There was also a less familiar sight in the foyer, standing between the queues. A great big cow, which once it got a bit tired lay down for a bit, then got up again, relieved itself and lay down in a different spot, presumably as baffled by the queues as we were. After much stress and fighting with queue skippers we got to the front of the MP's, female's and foreigner's queue and then after further stress and hassle had ourselves a sleeper ticket to Varanasi. We had a long wait first though so took a brief sniff outside, decided it was all too much and far too scary (even this far in to our trip, India is still quite the assault for the new visitor) and hid in a retiring room at the station until night time.
This gave us time to reflect on Nepal, the country that we only visited because it was in the way, and only expected to stay in for about a week and a half but didn't leave for five weeks. It had been quite the little gem on our tour and definitely one of our favourite countries of them all. Somehow we never managed to do what most people do in Nepal which is launch ourselves off on a trek but we have most definitely not ruled this out for the future, though maybe we'll leave the white water alone. The array of adventures and activities and the cost of them is possibly at the best ratio in the world. The availability of western comforts, in terms of nice hotels and good food surpassed any of the other 'scary' countries we went through, and the people were some of the most friendly, and well informed we have had the pleasure of being with too. We very much liked Nepal and definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a cheap get away, that's not quite off the peg.
At 11 o'clock our sleeper train trundled into the station. We were sleeper class, which is the basic class for those who want to travel horizontal. The beds are three high, the foam mostly worn flat and you get no linen, pillows or privacy. It's fine though, so long as you don't have the bottom beds because if you do, you can say cheerio to any hope of getting a lie down as it seems perfectly normal practise to share your bench with anyone else who wants to sit there too. We had the top beds and had a reasonably good trip. The only horror of the trip was the sight that faced us in a toilet as we boarded the train and walked passed the flapping door. In a good news, bad news scenario we had the only carriage probably in the entire train that had a western toilet. The bad news being that someone who didn't know how to use it had stood on top of the seat in their familiar crouch position, somehow avoiding a broken neck in the jostling train but as a result actually missing the target and leaving a very neat smoldering deposit on the toilet seat itself. We managed the trip without a need to face the horror a second time and reached Varanasi early in the morning.
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