Walking Kolkata

The alarm goes at 5 a.m. Groan. We have agreed to go birdwatching at the Botanic Gardens, across the Hooghly. At 5.30 we are haggling with a taxi driver.  Walking away towards the next parked cab does the trick and the price comes down to our level. Easy to do with no luggage. It is a misty and the traffic is light. Taxi drivers here don't pay attention to traffic lights in the early morning,  another echo of Glasgow.

We are dropped at the gate just before 6a.m. People are going in but the uniformed guardian of the gate refuses us. "Opens at 8". 

"Are you sure? Who are these people going in?" He makes a phone call to somebody he calls Sir and mentions foreigners more than once. "Opens at 8". We hang about like the smell of gas. Reinforcements arrive with slightly better English. "Pass holders only until 8". They are not going to budge. A minion arrives with opening hours notices and ties them to the gate. D considers waving banknotes but decides that might just make it worse. We have to admit defeat.

Trudging back along the road we pass the entrance to the Institute of Engineering,  Science and Technology. This has extensive grounds and attractive looking gardens which must be teeming with birdlife. They won't let us in here either.  The west side of the river seems to have electric autos but these won't take us back over the river. Luckily an empty taxi comes along. Our negotiating position is somewhat weaker and we pay 50 rupees more to get back to the hotel. Breakfast has not yet started. 

Showered, fed and watered we set out for a street walk. It is before nine still and the streets are almost deserted, businesses just opening up and the temperature is comfortable for us. We like walking at this time in India as you get chance to look around and see a lot more than when it is busy. Some of the early street traders were setting up.  We went north through Chandni Chowk and then across to College Street, which is famous for the bookstalls that line each side. Students come here for text books and D's eye was caught by revision notes and past papers for the entrance exams for employment on Indian Railways. Trams run up and down College Street and R tempted fate by remarking that we had not seen this many trams on any other day in Kolkata.

Our target was the Indian Coffee House, a workers' cooperative with branches throughout India. It is on a side street opposite one of Kolkata's universities.  We managed to walk past the entrance which is occupied by a small bookstall. When we climbed the stairs we found ourselves in a large hall with a balcony. The decor is somewhat faded and R likened it to an iron foundry canteen. The waiting staff wear uniforms topped off with puggarees. The coffee was good and well priced and the loos seemed clean enough although it was hard to tell as there were no lights.

Refreshed we strolled to the nearest tram stop, planning to return to UC and do some shopping. As we waited D remarked that Kolkata is quite unusual.  In any other place in India somebody would want to know where we were from and why we were standing there. Right on cue an old chap on a bicycle stops to ask those very questions.  When he hears that we are waiting for a tram he tells us that the trams are no good. He has forthright opinions on many things and shares them with us. No tram arrives. Eventually he tells us that he has cycled past several trams that are stuck and that no trams will arrive. We take our leave and walk whence we came, now much busier. We see a stationary tram, empty but for the crew, who are reading newspapers.  Then we realise that there are no lights in the shops. It's a power cut. R has jinxed not only the trams but half of the city.

At MG road there is a whole queue of stuck trams. We walk on along a street that appears to be called Nirmal Chunder Street. This becomes Wellesley Street before we turn off onto a newly tarmacadamed alley. There must be a councillor living here. On Market Street we find a stall selling our complete requirements, 1 rupee satchets of Sunlight Soap and a Good Knight plug in insect deterrent. Total bill 76 rupees. 

We had back to a room for a cup of tea. R is so disappointed about not getting a tram ride that she opts for a lie down. D goes out in search of further fun. Just as he is leaving the hotel the daily mutton ration for the city is driven along Sudder Street. Rabindra Sarani  must be one of Kolkata's most chaotic streets, with one way traffic but two way trams and every imaginable form of passenger and goods transport. It has dozens of musical instrument shops as well as a whole row of shops claiming to sell pure chamor for puja. On previous visits we had guessed that these were dusters or fly whisks. Wiki tells us that they are yak's hair fly whisks used in the rituals to do with the worship of the goddess Durga. 

Photos taken, D scores two trams on the way back to Esplanade where he visits the newly opened Exhibition of Tram Memorabilia.  This occupies a plinthed two coach tram and costs Rs 5 even for foreigners. An elaborate ticket is issued at the booth and handed over when boarding the exhibition.  The man carefully wrote down all of the ticket details in an exercise book. His assistant read the newspaper. D was today's second visitor. Yesterday there were eight. The exhibition is small but interesting.  It only occupies one of the cars, the other being the snack bar. Photography is prohibited. On the way out D purchased a set of picture postcards, some of which are just plain dull.

For the second day running we made afternoon tea at the Fairlawn and read newspapers.  We are starting to feel quite Kolkattan. This is our last evening of urban living Bengali style. Tonight's supper plan is Kwality, a short walk down Park Street which is still resplendent in festive lights. This restaurant and its chicken curry have been recommended by one of our secret sources. They do not disappoint.  The food is good, R is happy with the standards and the service is quite something. There is even a man to open the loo door. We manage to squeeze in a shared portion of delicious Afghan Dried Fruit ice cream at the end and are absolutely pogged. We waddle back to the Fairlawn and settle our bill as we hit the rails early tomorrow.