Saturday 15th February - Up the Watter

We had a good night's sleep and enjoy a splendid breakfast. R's Aloo Parathas were particularly good. Today's plan involves a tram ride from Ballygunge to Kalighat Metro, the same route that the autos took last night. We walk through the back streets to the Ballygunge Tram Terminal. On the way we see a vendor of brushes and cleaning materials making a sale to somebody on the second floor. A shopping bag has been lowered to the street on a string in which the vendor places the goods for the buyer to haul up and inspect.

At the terminal D asks when the next tram will be. "Twenty minutes" comes the rather hesitant reply. We almost pack in at that point. We know that an Indian five minutes is about half an hour but how long is an Indian twenty minutes? We decide to wait a while and within five minutes an eastbound tram appears and takes the loop around to turn it into a westbound. 

We hop on board and get seats near the front. Two young ladies engage R in conversation and in return she gives them a geography lesson. They are visiting the city with their family and doing the sights. Yesterday was the zoo and today is the Kalighat Temple. Their brother is sitting a few rows back and hopefully will be able to look after them. 

The tram is a splendidly ramshackle example but there has been a development. The conductors are now issued with very modern ticket printers rather than the old preprinted ones.

Rashbehari Avenue is one of our favourite streets as there is something for everybody along it. Since our 2019 visit D saw an old map of the tram system that shows the original street name to be Main Sewer Road. As a general rule the renaming of streets in Kolkata has not met with a great deal of success. This is one exception. The tram trip is less hurried and nerve wracking than the auto, whilst more comfortable and cheaper. When the tram turns south towards Tollygunge we disembark and proceed on foot. We are heading towards the Kalighat Temple but, unlike last year, we have no intention to go in. We saw some interesting items for sale on some of the stalls on the road leading towards the entrance and wish to see if they are still available. They are and a bit of bargaining gets a decent discount from the price quoted. Today's plan is going well. 

A short walk takes us to Jatin Das Park Metro where we catch a crowded train north to Park Street. A cup of tea is required. The doorman at Flury's tells us that there is a 10-15 minute wait for tables, so we move on. The corner site next door has now become a very smart food shop with a cafe. All the tables are free when we go in, but they start to fill up. Some of their prices are pretty ritzy but the Masala chai and Darjeeling Black Tea are not too outrageous for a large cup. As we sip we decide what to do next. 

A cruise on the River Hooghly appeals. It is a sunny day with a bit of a breeze. A ride in a yellow cab takes us to Babughat, where we walk over the railway and buy our ferry tickets for Rs6 each. As we board the ferry a train heads north on the line that we have just crossed, part of the Kolkata Circular Railway. D attempted to travel on this last year but services were suspended. The ferry is fairly quiet and two young men from Tripura in the North East engage D in conversation. Where have we been, where are we going, do we know about the 'Seven Sisters'? D tells them that we are going to Assam, the biggest sister, this time and who knows in future.

We disembark at Howrah, on the west side, and have a little difficulty identifying the correct place to buy our onward ticket. Once we find it a further Rs6 each buys us passage to Sovabazar on the east bank and about 4 km north of our starting point. The ferry has a couple of intermediate stops on the west bank before cutting across the river to our destination. The original plan was to walk to the nearest Metro station but the fact that trains are running on the Circular opens open another possibility.

We take a short walk to Sovabazar Ahoritola station where we discover that a northbound train is due in a few minutes. Tickets to Dum Dum cost Rs5 and are proper card tickets. The train arrives a few minutes late and is a medium dilapidated Eastern Railways EMU. There are plenty of seats and open doors for D to stand at as we parallel the Hooghly for a few km. The train fills up a bit and a bunch of youths decide to share D's chosen doorway. The line then swings inland, via the terminus used by the International train from Bangladesh, crosses the main lines to the north out of Sealdah and then drops down to join them at Dum Dum Junction. 

Here we switch to the Metro for the trip back south into the city. R manages to bag a Senior's seat while D stands as the train gets busier and busier. One chap gets on and starts shouting at the couple with a toddler sitting next to R until they vacate and stand. We vote him a bit of a rotter. An older lady takes the seat next to R and then a younger one decides there is room for one more on the bench. At this point standing looks like the more comfortable option.

Outside Kalighat Metro Station there is a bit of a share auto shortage and no sign of a tram. We get bypassed a couple of times by queue jumpers until R wields the elbows. We have one last task to complete before we can go home for tea. PP is outraged by the fact that we have never eaten shingaras in Kolkata. We make sure to buy some on the way home and enjoy them with a cup of tea.

For supper we decide to stay quite local and go to a place just north of Gariahat called Mirch Masala. We have been here before and apparently made an impression as we are welcomed back like royalty. We get there as they are opening for the evening and things quickly liven up. We have papads with onion salad, chicken skewers and veg biryani, described as Hyderabadi on the menu but some may differ. It is all good and we enjoy the atmosphere. The young couple on the next table carry on an animated conversation switching from Bangla to English and back again in mid sentence. Oh to have more Bangla than eeeeeeeesh!

Back at the Ivy House our laundry is ready. D is instructed not to take photographs even though it is beautifully folded and wrapped in quite clean newspaper.