Thursday 27th February - Rajdhani Living (Food Glorious Food?)

Yesterday evening we conducted a test run to the station in order to sort out timings for today. Having calculated that the alarm needs to be set for 05.45 we inevitably wake up before five and just decide to give ourselves some extra time. The youth in the lobby rouses himself to check us out and opens the gate. It is daylight but overcast and mizzly. We make short work of the half mile or so to the station, then walk ten coach lengths back along the platform in the direction of the hotel to get in position for coach H1.

R is less than overjoyed with the prospect of a 27 hour train trip and is most insistent that D delivers a Coupe for this one. An online check confirms that we will be in Cabin D, a two berth Coupe. Train12423 Dibrugarh - New Delhi Rajdhani arrives a couple of minutes late but there is no hurry as the stop is scheduled for twenty minutes. 

Our coupe has been previously enjoyed but a chap turns up promptly to clear the rubbish and we soon get settled into our new home. Our morning paper, The Sentinel, is delivered and our linen boy, who makes Jeremy Corbyn look youthful, brings our linen packets and explains at great length how things work in the cabin. We don't like to tell him that we have been travelling 1AC since he was a mere seventy five. 

We get under way bang on time but proceeding very gently. On the outskirts of Guwahati the fog really closes in and we crawl along for twenty minutes or so until it begins to ease. The procession of visitors continues.  The TTE ticks us off on his tablet and smiles when D says "Ah. Electronic TTE". Morning tea is delivered next but there is only one flask of hot water so we only get three quarters of a cup each. IRCTC are using Double Diamond tea bags, which tastes rather better than D remembers the beer to have done.

Our caterer comes for the breakfast order. D requests non-veg, for the omelette, and the man departs without consulting R,  whose feminist hackles immediately rise. Breakfast is followed by another round of stingy tea, then the steward is back for the lunch order. This time R does get consulted as he is keen to push a 'Continental' option, whatever that might be. We stick to Indian, veg for R and non-veg for D. What this means is paneer and chicken respectively. The procession abates and we switch into Indian mode, adopting a horizontal position on our berths. We are only the second coach back from the loco so the incessant blaring of the horn is very audible, but not as bad as the person in the next cabin, who has the world's most annoying ringtone and who doesn't answer until about the tenth cycle. To make things worse he has an accomplice who calls him every few minutes. Nonetheless we are tired enough to doze. 

Our slumber is disturbed by the steward delivering what he claims to be tomato soup. The colour is rather odd but most colours in here are rather odd due to the tinted glass in the window. Unfortunately digital technology auto corrects the hue so we cannot share the look of the soup or the rather alarming grey skin tones we have developed. We have worked out that the breadsticks are meant to be broken up as croutons, if you have the physical strength to do this. This lunchtime soup delivery takes place at 11.20. The route we are following was originally built as a metre gauge line after Partition in 1947, in order to connect the lines in the North East states with the rest of India. The original routes all went through what is now Bangladesh and  were effectively closed for use by Indians. There are a lot of remaining sections of MG trackbed and some very chunky girder bridges still in place. As we head towards NJP we cross the Teesta River on a long, single track girder bridge. Another bridge is being built alongside to increase capacity and reliability of services. Somewhere we have changed loco crew as the style of hooter blowing has changed.

At 12.50 the rest of lunch arrives. It's not bad and the rotis are particularly good. As we finish up the train arrives on time at NJP.  We have never travelled through here before. It has always been the start or end of a journey. Departure is prompt and followed quickly by our Vanilla Royale ice cream. This comes in small tubs, just like we used to get at the cinema. The empties are collected at the same time as we place our dinner order. By now the steward has worked out who wears the trousers in Cabin D and deals almost exclusively with R. She asks for an explanation of the Continental option. Basically it is the same as Indian, but with noodles instead of rice. Which continent were we thinking of? In a pause in the conversation D asks for a repeat of lunch, while R decides to go for the non-veg noodle option.

Time for a bit more horizontality. D brought City of Djinns to read on this trip and has not got beyond the first page. This must surely be a great opportunity for undisturbed reading. But first Evening Tea, served at 15.50, and consisting of Sandwich Unspecified (and unrecognisable), greasy bag containing a shingara, ketchup sachet, packet of salted almonds, small piece of delicious pista and a tea making kit. We set the almonds aside for an emergency. Tea is followed by a visit from the Steward and his boss/minder/bookie. He carries a passenger comments book and asks R to complete it. It has Yes/No questions such as Is it Warm? and Is it Cool? Everybody else has put Yes in every column and R resists the urge to be a dissenter. The floor sweeping man turns up with his comments book, also accompanied by some sort of henchman. No messing here. "Sir please fill in name, phone number, PNR number and sign". Presumably they fill in the scores for services rendered at leisure.

There is a long stop at Katihar Junction where the loco is swopped for an electric one and the coaches topped up with water. The new loco has a strange horn that sounds like an asthmatic owl. By now the sun is sinking rapidly and we declare the cocktail hour.  R bolts the door while D opens the almonds and pours out modest tinctures. If we had a punkah wallah rather than AC we could be back in the Raj. This idyll is dispelled by a sharp rapping on the door. 18.10 - time for soup, more recognisably cream of veg this time. As is customary the attempted consumption of the soup coincides with a stretch of rather rough riding track. We open a sweep on what time the rest of dinner will arrive.

Continental veg consists of mixed veg, noodles, macaroni and veggy rissoles. Non veg is chicken plus all of the usual stuff. There is far too much for either of us to eat and we have to save space for butterscotch ice cream. Shortly after dinner we cross the Ganges on the Digha - Sonepur bridge, a huge double deck construction. It is much too dark to see anything but the view in daylight must be something else. After an exhausting day eating and doing little else we are exhausted and have yet another early night.

The winning sweep ticket was 20.20