Train Ride Out of Jakarta

For my Christmas break this year, I decided to visit Indonesia. Many colleagues of mine from both Korea and India had sung their praises for the captivating beauty of Bali in particular, and after reading some social media posts on the area, I felt compelled to also visit. What's not to love - culture, warm climate, inexpensive, and a direct flight from Seoul. 

Prior to heading over to Bali, I wanted to check out two UNESCO World Heritage sites on Java - Borobudur and Prambanan. My flight into Jakarta also enabled me to make an overnight visit to a former colleague.

Very early the next morning, a taxi arrived ahead of schedule to take me to the train station. In the 45 minute stretch to the station, we drove past some USA familiars such as ACE Hardware, KFC, a few Starbucks, as well as South Korea's Lotte Mart and France's Carrefour. The city did have some tall buildings, but houses were much more plentiful than in Seoul, where high-rises were the norm for most dwellings. Crosses that were so pervasive in the Seoul skyline were replaced with minarets. Motorcycles were quite common on the road, along with cars and a few rickshaws.  In the section of the toll-heavy road we took, I saw no ambling cows, a bit less garbage, and not the horn-honking culture of India.   

Just as in the railway stations of India, porters were plentiful, deftly carrying heavy luggage, including brightly colored Hello Kitty and Frozen pieces. The station was active, but not the crowded beehive of commerce to which I had become accustomed at various Indian train stations. Unlike India though, my train actually left on schedule. The train coach was air conditioned. clean-ish, and only had two seats on each side. Within a short time, the taller, more modern city buildings were replaced by shacks and more run-down houses. 

Laundry of many colors hung from clotheslines - some very close to the train tracks. I wondered how clean the clothes would be after so many trains passed by them as they tried to dry in the humid weather. Graffiti-covered walls provided a bit of a barrier to some dwellings, but many of the corrugated tin shacks came right up to the tracks. Some kids standing on improvised bamboo porches waved as the train rolled past. Uniformed railway workers stood erect and rather idle-looking at the doorways of the many smaller rail stations. 

Motorbikes and a few cars quickly multiplied at the crossing gates, patiently idling until the train went on through. It was obvious that such waiting was common.

Gradually, buildings became less frequent and gave way to the Java countryside. 

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A Tale of Two Train Stations

This spring break, I decided to stay in Korea to explore one of its historic cities, Gyeongju. To get there, we took the KTX, Korea's high speed train. What would have taken around 5 hours by regular speed train (with stops) would be reached in about 2 1/2 hours. The golden glow of the rising sun reflected off the beautiful semi-circle windows of the old station’s dome. Some passengers were arriving by taxi, while others were ascending the escalators from the subway below. The shiny light-colored floors of the brightly lit train station reflected the shapes of the empty silver-colored seats. Samsung LCD TVs played local stations, giving some entertainment to those who weren’t already glued to their cell phone TV reception. Electronic signs posting the departure and arrival information in rotating languages were prominently displayed in convenient locations. True to other Korean public places, the station had plenty of coffee and eatery places, as well as opportunities to shop. 

As I waited for my friend to arrive, I thought about my previous experience waiting for a train - in Chennai, India. What a scene of contrasts. After disembarking a auto rickshaw, I jostled my into the first main waiting hall of the train station. Every seat was occupied, with others plopping themselves wherever they could find a spot to rest. Most had at least two bags - one containing a tiffin of still-hot rice, sambar, idlies, and other South Indian food. The scene was noisy, with family members and friends excitedly talking to each other, while others spoke loudly over cell phones. A single set of signs posted the many trains information, with a large number likely being delayed by quite some time. If you wanted some filter coffee, or something to eat, you went to one of the few small cafés for a cheap eat, or you got something from the kiosks near the platforms. In addition to passengers, trains were being loaded with packages of various sizes. Porters deftly balanced large suitcases on their heads, sometimes also carrying other bags in their hands. Announcements were being made over the PA, but it was difficult to discern anything over the noise.

Entering the equally spotless platform area of the Seoul train station, we easily located the platform and walked down the stairs, free of porters and hordes of people. We looked at our computer-generated ticket and entered the new-looking car - complete with glass on the windows. No pushing needed, no competing for space. The briefcases or small backpacks that most carried easily fit above the seats. Precisely on time, the train took off, with its quiet passengers scattered throughout the non-full car. We could hear each other talking very easily, not having the rumbles and creaks of an old Indian train and rail with which to compete. Trolleys of food were pushed through the aisle, but I kind of missed the loud announcement of “chai! chai!” repeated over and over by the chaiwallahs in India. Instead of mere pennies for a cup of hot drink, these Korean beverages would likely be in the $5 range. 

As expected, we arrived at our destination right on time. From the equally clean train station, we easily located a bus that would take us into town. True, the KTX was a lot more expensive than the cheap transport of India, but it was very easy and efficient - albeit without the character and chaotic-ness that makes India India.

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Victoria Terminus Interior

After admiring the exterior of the Victoria Terminus Railway building, we ventured inside. As expected, the architecture here was also admirable, filled with lots of details. 

Being as it was only around 8am on Sunday, the platforms weren't as crowded - much to my pleasure. I can't imagine how dense the crowds would be at peak times.

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Train to Jaipur

After an extended power outage in our hotel, we were eager to go to Jaipur. When the train arrived, I double-checked with a man waiting on the platform to confirm that we were entering the right car. Just as we began preparing our berths for the night trip, the man came in, sure that the train was not going to Jaipur, as the gujar strike had blocked the track going to Jaipur, causing a rerouting of the train. While my friends watched the luggage, the man took me to the ticket booth and helped me purchase tickets for an alternate train that was leaving shortly. Alas, there were no 2nd class AC tickets, so we would have to be content with general boarding. Perhaps, the helpful man noted, a conductor on the train would be able to help us move to another car. Once inside, we were greeted with slight confusion and stares by the passengers, comprised entirely of men. For the first several hours, our four-women crew were the recipients of warm smiles and staring by the young men. A few kindly vacated the bottom berths, enabling our friend who was unwell to lay on one while the other three of us sat on the other. At 5:30 AM we arrived in Jaipur, the third stop in the famous “Golden Triangle” of India.

A big thanks to my travel partner Pat for these photos

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Train Ride to Ella, Sri Lanka - pt 2

Further up into the highlands, the train chugged through tunnels, some of which were rather long. Children in the observation car stuck their heads out the open window, shouting and screaming in the dark. Daylight once again revealed lush vegetation of the area. In some parts, one side of the train revealed a beautiful view of the valley below. The other side, by contrast, might only have the side of hewn rock quite close to the train window as a view. Passengers familiar with the area alerted me to upcoming large waterfalls, granting me time to go to the open train door and get a better shot. Occasionally misting, the high points of the mountain were enshrouded in rapidly-moving low clouds and fog. Coupled with the streams and waterfalls, it gave the area a sense of serenity. Still higher, the tea plantations were replaced with tall trees that were not of the tropical variety.

By now, the observation train was mostly empty. Most of the warm Sri Lankan families I had met on the train had now reached their destinations. Thankfully even the tiny train stations had their signs posted in the triple language. The train began a slight descent towards Ella, once again revealing some tropical trees. After peeking out of the doorway to see the station sign, I quickly grabbed my backpack and headed onto the platform. Here I was met by the owner of the small hotel, who led me on a tiny footpath behind the train station down a hill to where the hotel was. Apologizing for the unavailability of the room at his Sun Top Hotel for that night due to a couple who decided to stay an extra day, he had already arranged with the neighboring nicer hotel to accommodate me at the same rate.

Ella Train Station

 Comfort Inn, Ella

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Train Ride to Ella, Sri Lanka - pt 1

Instead of touring one of India’s many destinations for our October break, I decided to visit its southern neighbor, the teardrop-shaped island of Sri Lanka. Arriving in the capitol’s airport at just before 4AM, I quickly made it through immigration, got my visa, and some cash to get me started. A city bus took me within a few blocks of the train station – much cheaper than getting a taxi. After purchasing a few local snacks for the train, I purchased a ticket for a seat on the observation car - less than $7 for what would be a ten-hour ride.

Train Ride to Ella
Morning light revealed rather flat land, with many rice paddy fields barren or flooded. Paths between the fields were also made muddy with the recent rains. White pinnacles of Buddhist stupas peeked between the palm trees. Moving slightly higher in elevation, we began seeing some rubber trees and plenty of bananas. Fields gave way to steep tree-covered hills. Rubber tires were placed as steps, assisting navigation up step paths to homes perched up high hills. Farming of the terra-cotta colored ground here was mostly restricted to terraced methods.

Between the trees, I spotted some tea bushes – the first of many to come. Soon the landscape was converted into an emerald green carpet of tea bushes, the hills and mountains appearing as if manicured by giants. Streams flowed through the fields, carving right through the plantations. Waterfalls of varying sizes became a common sight, emerging from forested areas and cascading down rocky slopes. Signs in Sinhalese, Tamil, and English indicated to which tea plantation the land belonged. The white of the larger buildings made it easy to spot the many tea factories dotting the area. Occasionally distant flecks of color were spotted in the tea fields, indicators of women tea pluckers. Near villages, plots of land was reserved for vegetable gardens. The mounded ground particular to that area reminded me of a Hershey’s bar. Auto rickshaws in a variety of colors scooted along the narrow road, with artificial flowers, pictures of religious icons, small statues, and writing distinguishing one from the other. Colorful Hindu temples, white Buddhist stupas, and green minarets (along with the occasional Christian cross) dotted the sides of the roads in towns.

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Sudha Car Museum - That's Some Car!

We then visited the Sudha Car Museum, which prided itself on its eclectic handmade vehicles, including the world’s largest tricycle. A worker from the museum (the first and only handmade wacky car museum in the world) gave us a short tour, explaining what some of the vehicles were – all labors of creative dedication by K Sudhakar. Within the sheds, one could see dune buggies, modified cards, and really wacky vehicles such as a cup & saucer car, computer car, one in the shape of a bed, soccer ball, camera, lotus pond – and even a condom!

Our next destination was the Nehru Zoo Park. Too bad it wasn’t Monday (when it is closed). Thankfully it was only a 20 rupee entrance fee. The grounds were mainly picnic spots for locals. The color black was the dominant clothing color, worn by most Muslim women in the form of burquas. Despite the sign prohibiting plastic, picnic-goers carried much of their items in plastic. Bags tumbled about in the light breeze. We all took a rickety zoo train that chugged along and toured some of the zoo. Not many animals were to be seen though.

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On to Orissa, Rajarani Temple

Another overnight train later, I arrived at the Bhubaneswar train station in the state of Orissa. Located two states north of Tamil Nadu, Orissa is famous for its ancient Hindu temples and large tribal population. Originally I had planned to visit some of the tribes, but due to renewed tribal violence and tensions, decided that the photo opportunities were not worth the risk. Instead, I would base myself out of the capital city of Bhubaneswar and take a couple day trips from there. At the train station, a sister of one of our local Indian teachers warmly met me. It was quite easy to spot me, as I was the only redhead around and perhaps the only white person as well.

On the way to the guest house where I would be staying, I immediately noticed at how much cleaner Bhubaneswar appeared than other Indian cities, including Chennai. Very little rubbish was thrown about, murals featuring Orissa’s traditional designs, musical instruments, sights, and Hindu mythology cheered up the walls. It also seemed a bit calmer; I guess less traffic and wider roads helps.

Rajarani Temple
That evening after setting up the tour itinerary for the next few days, my gracious Orissa host took me to one of Bhubaneswar’s ancient Hindu temples – the 11^th century Rajarani Temple. Set a pleasant walk on the far side of a walled grassy area, this temple had beautiful carvings on its spire. The sun was setting, filling the sky with warm colors and casting its colors onto the stone structure. The scene was tranquil, enhanced by a beautifully manicured lawn, flowering bushes, and trees. While the bottom part of the temple was rather plain, there still was a detail feast for the eyes, including some slender female figures and guardian figures. Not knowing that we would be doing any sightseeing, I hadn’t brought along my camera. The very substandard photos taken with my cell phone would have to do. Inside the temple was bare – no presiding deities here. It smelled a bit of urine (hopefully bat and not human), so I didn’t linger long.

Later that evening, we enjoyed ourselves at a café where we met yet another sister, exchanging thoughts and ideas. I even tried some local “fast food” with the encouragement of my hosts. It was filling and tasty.

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Train Ride to Vizag

Safely aboard the Howrah Express Mail Train bound northward towards Vizag, I settled into my berth in the 2-tier AC sleeper car. Ah, this was so much better than the non-AC 3-tier traveling that we had done in Rajasthan; no desert sands spewing in, a climate-controlled environment, less people, and even a pillow and bed sheets provided! Checking out the bathrooms, I was pleased to see a fairly clean (by Indian standards) Western toilet with toilet paper – a big step from the scary toilets in the 2^nd-class non-AC trains we previously took! I turned on my iPod, hoping that the music would drown out the cell phone talking by the two men in the upper bunks, one of who switched between two phones.

The train rocked back and forth during the night, crossing the Tamil Nadu border and into Andhra Pradesh. Every once in a while the train would stop, rather briefly in small villages and longer at larger stations. Dawn revealed a serene landscape, the soft glow of the emerging sun behind the fog rolling over the paddy fields. Palm trees silhouetted against the increasingly warm-colored sky. Already in early morning, farmers were out in the fields, with rice being the dominant crop. The train tracks went past thatched huts with cows in the yard and mounded piles of hay in the fields. Men bathed in rivers and pools of water. Women washed clothes by hand in the rivers, laying out the cloth on the nearby fields.

Soon the vendors began walking through the aisles of the moving train, calling out chai, coffee, omelet, and other Indian breakfast items. As the train continued northward, it relieved itself of more passengers, with a few boarding. Finally, around 1pm, we arrived at the railway station of Vizag, otherwise known as Visakhaptnam.

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