Not the Red Panda

Today we are booked on the Red Panda steam hauled excursion to Kurseong and back. We wake to a brighter morning with a hint of blue sky above and the suggestion of the sun about to break through. The temperature is brisk rather than cold. Our neighbour snores worse than D which is saying something.  He does not disturb our night however. This hotel has a very laid back approach to mornings. Breakfast does not start until 8.30 so we trot along Gandhi Road to Keventer's, another Darjeeling institution.  Their masala omelets are superb with sides of black tea and that sweet toast that always seems to go with Indian breakfasts.

We are starting to find our way around the town and take a back road with hardly any traffic down to the station. There is already shunting activity under way and D gets out his pocket videcam while R indulges him. We are amazed to see a man in a kilt. When asked whereabouts in Scotland he is from he tells us 'Wales actually' in an English accent. Eventually a train is lined up at the platform and D asks one of the station staff if this is the Red Panda to be told yes. There are a few people on the coach who are not very friendly and claim to have boked the whole train. Back on the platform there are lots of elderly train geeks with cameras who are not being very friendly either. Bleddy English!

D produces the tickets and looks for a member of staff. A Indian man who turns out to be this lot's tour guide tells us that the Red Panda is cancelled today and this is a private charter. R is indignant and wants to tweet Suresh Prabhu, the Railways Minister, and tell him to sort it but we have no internet connection.  The guide says he will see what can be done and returns with the Stationmaster. There are no seats on the charter but we can go to Ghum and back on a steam hauled JoyTrain. This is a 12km round trip at a price of over Rs 90 per km - probably the dearest train trip in India by some distance. But it's a trip behind a steam train. D makes the necessary booking and is asured that we will get an automatic refund for the cancelled train.  Hmmm! We'll see.

We now have an hour to kill so we head off for a cup of tea and a chunter. Is it cynical to think that somebody saw more profit in a charter train than a scheduled one with only a few tickets sold? Bleddy Indian Railways! After tea we feel better and the sun actually shines for a short while. We get back to the station to see more shunting and then our train is ready. We have decent seats with an open window for filming out of. The B Class blasts its way up the gradients, throwing soot and cinders everywhere. There is a short stop at Batasia where the railway climbs a 540 degree spiral, and the site of the Ghurka war memorial. None of our fellow passengers seem very interested.  They all want to take selfies in front of the loco.

We ride on a couple more kilometres to Ghum where there is chance to see the small railway museum and watch the loco run round the coaches and take water. Ghum is the highest railway station in the world to have steam trains. The return trip is virtually freewheeling down the hill and the only people working hard are the guys who operate the brakes on the coaches in response to whistles from the loco. We get back to Darjeeling two hours after leaving and have a bonus half day to enjoy.

We mooch for a while then go shopping.  R has a postcard to send so we pop in to the post office. We think that the man says 50 rupees but as we leave he calls us back for our change. It costs 15p to send a postcard from India to Scotland. At home it costs three times that to send a card across town.  As we failed to photo the buns yesterday we go back to Glenary's for tea and cake. R declares that she is now cured of cake. D nips into the internet cafe to print a rail ticket for a train next week with a short booking period. He takes the chance to look at today's tickets. The system says refund in progress.  

On reflection today turned out well especially after we had dinner at the Kunga restaurant which specialises in Tibetan food. The shapaleys might have looked like pasties but they tasted much better.