Tuesday 18th February - Something for Everyone

Spending four nights in the same room is a real luxury on these trips. The downside is that it requires an operation akin to moving house when it is time to leave. At breakfast the staff are keen to impress and produce pancakes and maple syrup as an extra. We hesitate to point out that Shrove Tuesday is still a week away or that kithul treacle, as served in Sri Lanka, knocks spots off its Canadian cousin. We have really enjoyed our stay at the Ivy House.

There is no hurry as our train departs at 22.05. We pack at leisure and check out around 11.00. An Ola cab is summoned and we are soon at Sealdah Station where there is none of this nonsense about putting sticky labels on some of the locks on luggage. The old Cloak Room has been demolished and a rather cramped outhouse pressed into service. The staff are very helpful and interested in our trip. After checking that there are no unhelpful closure hours we wend our merry way to Big Bazaar by the station entrance.

One can never have enough smart loungewear and D bags another pair of stylish lowers. There is a setback when we discover that this branch does not stock bumper bags of Orange Bites, or indeed any at all. R picks out an essential item of personal grooming equipment that she has managed without for a month. There is one till open and the climate control appears to be set for February in Greenland. There are about four people ahead of us in the queue. Person number one had his credit card refused and there is a prolonged discussion. Person number two purchases three items, pays cash and leaves, looking relieved. Person #3 has a basket in the queue that keeps being added to by other people. When it is all cashed up she is short and has to arrange a whip round. Number 4 is an inoffensive looking guy who at the last minute is joined by his wife who, judging from the amount of clothing in her trolley, is a buyer for M&S. Mr Card Rejected is hovering about with a view to getting back in the queue. R spots another till that is now in action and we conclude our transactions. Please could somebody explain why there are not riots in Big Bazaar on a daily basis.

Outside seems positively cool after the heat generated in Sealdah's premier retail experience. The prepaid taxi stand is a breeze and we are soon choking in fumes on our way to S Planet. There are a number of tasks to fulfill when we get there. Firstly to eat a jalibi so that R can be photographed performing ablutions in a Kolkata gutter. Secondly to purchase badly needed art supplies and lastly to catch the metro to Kalighat. No we have not left our toothbrushes but plan to visit the Kolkata Horticultural Garden. This is not to be confused with the Botanical Gardens on the other side of the Hooghly. 

From Kalighat Metro we take a share auto west to Alipore Road. Google Maps and Lonely Planet show different locations for the gardens and for once LP is right. We start at the wrong option and have a bit of a trek through the leafy suburbs of South West Kolkata. In the process we discover another branch of the Karma Kettle and stop off for refreshing Batasia tea. Fortified we press on and find the gardens. We have a left right guess for the entrance and get it wrong but a conversation through the bars with an employee puts us right.

Somehow we have missed these wonderful gardens on previous visits. They are well laid out and maintained, with some interesting features. There is a plant shop with some splendid exotic plants. R has to be reminded that they won't get a visa. There is even a bit of light birding, with a large barbet the pick of the spots. The park starts to fill with power walking ladies and we decide to opt out. 

Yesterday's missed tram ride across the Maidan still rankles and an Ola is summoned to take us to Kidderpore Tram Depot. As we approach we see a tram heading for the Maidan and wonder if we have missed out. When we get to the depot one of the more modern fibreglass and perspex models is sitting outside the depot with a couple of optimists on board. We leap aboard and get the left hand single seat behind the driver. R also gets a seat somewhere. After a ten minute wait we are underway and make good progress apart from the odd motorbike parked on the track. The driver is clearly tempted to shunt them out of the way but the legal odds must be against tram drivers. We duck and dive under a flyover and then have the long stretch across the Maidan. As we arrive at Esplanade there is a wall of taxis and buses ahead but miraculously a path opens up for the tram. 

We descend and find our way over towards the New Market. A beer and phone charge in Jimmy's sets us up and we wander the back streets towards Park Street. We pass Mocambo, kind of famous for its quirky menu, and realise that we have never been. We ask to see a menu and opt in. The food is good as long as you ignore the cold pasta in tomato sauce. Soon it is time to return to Sealdah to recover our bags and occupy Cabin D (Coupe) on the Darjeeling Mail. Somewhere along the line Indian Railways have moved away from Sammy Ledgard's blue and grey and started painting coaches in custard and blood.



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