Narrow gauge and luxury living

Saturday :  We get a better night's sleep and are all ready when our driver arrives to collect us in a Tata Indigo. His name is Buddhu. We have a slightly misty morning but visibility is fine for driving. The road north towards Agra and eventually Delhi is not too bad although there are a couple of short rough stretches and there is some atrocious driving going on. Buddhu is pretty steady and we make decent progress.  Some of the route is toll road and we get a bit of a shock when we are asked to pay an entry fee of 420 rupees at the Rajasthan state border. State sponsored dacoity.

We are soon in Dholpur and find the railway station. Buddhu seems a bit confused but his English is not great. He phones his boss and D explains to him that we want to take the train ride and be picked up in Bari at around midday. Buddhu still looks a bit dubious but we march off to the ticket office without looking back. Two tickets 20 rupees.

 Dholpur is the opposite to Gwalior in having two separate stations but only one code (DHO). We have plenty of time to kill so we buy a chai at the main station and take a look around.  The NG station is a short walk from the main one and there are already people waiting, ninety minutes before the train is due. R is parked on a bench while D goes to take photos. When he returns she has attracted a small crowd who watch riveted as she reads her Kindle.

The crowd on the platform grows and as, the incoming train's whistle is heard, the people move towards the platform edge. The train arriving is jam packed with plenty of people on the roof. Before the train even stops people are trying to get on, regardless of those who wish to get off. The smart cookies have bags that will slip between the window bars so they can reserve a place. Somehow we get on and our apparent celebrity status means that we are granted two seats together on a wooden bench and D has a window for filming. Sadly this turns out to have a defective latch mechanism and the shutter cannot be held in the raised position. The some jugaad meister on the platform steps forward with a piece of twig that does the job nicely. Even mote surprisingly it holds for the duration of our trip despite the bumping and lurching ride.

 The tiny compartment continues to fill with bodies and we hear the noise of people on the roof. There is some very interesting shunting going on but D cannot get out to see what is happening for fear of not being able to get back in. On the platform a crowd has gathered to stare into our compartment and  see what the crazy firangs are going to do next.

Departure time comes and goes and still the mystery shunting continues, even involving a second loco that has been rustled up from beyond some trees. At one point the train loco trundles by with one coach attached in front and another behind. All the time people are squeezing into and onto the train. About 30 minutes late they are ready and with a couple of whistle blasts we are off. We proceed at a gentle pace through a mixture of wetlands, agricultural land and small villages. We learn from the young men seated around us that today has been an examination day which explains why the train is so busy. As a bonus for R there is plenty of birdlife including black headed ibis, purple swamphens, a stork and an eagle of some sort.

At the first two stations more punters pile on and we start to worry about whether we are going to be able to get off. A man seated nearby reassures us that many people will be getting off at Bari and there will be no problem. As we pull into Bari station there is a throng waiting to board. As forecast quite a lot of people are getting off and we scrum down behind them and shove. The only way to deboard is by getting down on the side opposite the platform. When we are on dry land R says that she now knows how a cork feels when removed from a bottle. A rather anxious looking Buddhu is on the platform and looks very relieved to see us.

The road back to Dholpur is nothing special but we make it to the hotel in time to benefit from the inclusive lunch package. The Hotel Raj Niwas Palace is the former Maharani of Dholpur's old place and it is very much palace first and hotel second. Cheapskate D had booked a Pool Villa as these are a little less pricey but on arrival we are told that we will have a room in the main building. This turns out to be three rooms, a bathroom bigger than some double rooms we have stayed in, a huge bedroom and another large room that is a dressing room. All very splendid.

Lunch is served in a kind of enclosed arcade with various ancestors' portraits looking down on us. We are the only diners and at least four waiters queue up to serve us. We have chicken,    rice, dal, paneer in gravy, salad and chapatis, followed by trifle. This lunch is very welcome as we only had biscuits for breakfast. D needs a snooze after this and we then take a walk down through the village. Unusually nobody tries to sell us anything and only a couple of people shout Hello. Quite refreshing really. We find a cash machine and return to the Raj Niwas to take a turn round the grounds. As we walk back up the hill the sun breaks through at last.

The grounds include manicured lawns and lots of trees and almost immediately we spot an Indian grey hornbill. There are plenty of peafowl but none of the males is in the mood to be photographed. As we perambulate we meet our hosts a young couple who explain that Dholpur has only very recently started attracting tourists. Previously even Indian people avoided the area which had a bad name for lawlessness and banditry. Now people come from all over for cruises up the Chambal gorges hoping to see gharials and a type of long snouted fresh water crocodile. There is also some bird life unique to the region. Perhaps we will have to come back.

We have been told that hot water is 6 till 10 morning and evening but we struggle to get anything but cold out of the shower untill we work out that it has been plumbed in the wrong way round. We decide that we better make an effort to dress for dinner and as the only respectable clothes that we have are the Indian ones that we have bought we go for cocktails in the salon dressed in them. What the coach party of Japanese tourists who walked in thought we were is anybody's guess. Dinner was a buffet with much the same ingredients as lunch but pud was gulab jamun. Yummy.

The Japanese party seemed unhappy and there was a bit of a row going on so we slipped out and back to our room where we discover that behind the wardrobe is a connecting door to the kitchen where they are washing up rather noisily. Fortunately it soon stops and we sleep well.