Culture and Trams

When it comes to Bengali culture there are gaps in our ignorance, but not many. We hope to start rectifying that today by visiting Tagore's House where there is a museum dedicated to the great Bengali poet, artist and thinker. During the night there was some heavy rain and the streets are wet. The sky is grey and it is humid. After a leisurely breakfast we walk to the Metro and take Rs 5 rides to Girish Park. This time we get one of the modern a/c trains. We emerge at street level outside a shop front bearing the legend 'Bengal Decorator'. It looks like a newspaper office out of a Rudyard Kipling story. Is/was there such a paper? Google is unenlightening.

Our progress through the side streets is unremarkable until we see two rather battered cars parked outside the office of a driving school. D feels compelled to take a photo and is hailed from the office. They want to know all about us. The cars are theirs and they say that they are both new. Who'd be a driving instructor in India?

Tagore's House is located without too much difficulty. A helpful young man sells us our tickets, shows is the lockers where bags and camera must go them rushes upstairs so he can punch our tickets when we arrive at the check desk. It is a shoes off place but the floors are solid and well surfaced so not a problem. We have the place to ourselves for around an hour and learn about different facets of Tagore's very full life. He was some guy.

The whistle stop tour groups start to catch and pass us. Is there a prize for getting round museums in the fastest time? We progress to a part of the museum where background music is playing. This includes Auld Lang Syne in several languages, The Vicar of Bray, and Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonny Doon.  What a small world.

A couple of well dressed young men try to engage us in conversation but their English is limited. They are from Dhaka in Bangladesh and visiting Kolkata for the first time. The last gallery is on the top floor. We have to cross part of a flat roof to get there and the floor in the gallery is very dusty. The soles of our feet are black as pitch by the time we get back to put our sandals on. We stop to take a photo in the courtyard on the way out. The Bangladeshis are there and each want a photo standing next to us. So it's not just Indians.

Leaving by the western exit we find ourselves on Rabindra Sarani a long street of small shops selling anything and everything. A tram runs the length of the street and there is one coming in the direction we want. It pulls up fifty yards away and people climb on. As we run for it D manages to catch the driver's eye and he gives us time to board. The car is pretty full but a space is found for R to sit. After a couple of stops the crowd thins and we both have seats. Our destination is Esplanade or as R knows it, Urine Central. We have spent hours there waiting for trams in a very whiffy atmosphere.

On arrival we deboard, take a photo of the front of the tram and exchange cheery waves with the driver. R wishes to visit the art shop again. This time she buys oil pastels and brushes. The bill is discounted by 10% and the goods wrapped in brown paper tied with string. Beat that Hobby Craft. It takes a bit of time to find somewhere that will sell us a tea but a seat in an A/c room for half an hour is very welcome.

We cross back to Esplanade and find the stop for the 36 to Kidderpore. This tram runs out across the Maidan and is one of the best routes for idle tourists. After only a few minutes one arrives and we get seats behind the driver. This is one of the modernised trams and in rather better condition than some. There follows thirty minutes top quality entertainment for only Rs5 each. Look out for the forthcoming video, scheduled for release in the summer. It is such good fun that take an immediate return trip on the same tram with the same driver and conductor.

When we get back to the Fairlawn afternoon tea is being served in the lounge. We partake then prepare ourselves for the evening.  Who could resist a restaurant called Santa's Phantasea? It claims to specialise in Tribal dishes and Seafood. The nearest branch is out to the south east side at a place called Golpark. The plan is to get the metro to Kalighat and then a taxi or auto.

The metro is pretty crowded but it is not too far. Outside Kalighat station there is a throng of people and all of the autos appear to be running share routes. We have found that standing at the side of the road looking lost works well for us in West Bengal. An auto pulls up and we ask for Golpark. One of the passengers speaks English and explains that this auto will take us to a place five minutes walk from our target. Seems good so we hop in and get a ride of over a mile for Rs9 each. There are tram lines along the route but no trams that we can see.

Once we manage to cross the road it is plain sailing to the restaurant. It is quite busy but not full. We get shown to a small room at the back with only two tables. Do we smell that bad? The decor is in the style of Tribal art and the place smells of creosote. The room that we are in seems to be used mainly as an office. The food was OK but we doubt that we will return. The return trip went well. We managed to find a share auto all by ourselves. This one was a rupee cheaper and dropped us right at the metro entrance. On the way we passed a couple of trams. Opportunity missed.