Pete had finally managed to get his ticket and he told me about the experience afterwards. He went back to the train station and went to the ticket window where he thought he would be able to purchase a ticket. There he was told that he couldn't get a ticket there because he was a foreigner. He had to go to the special foreigner ticket reservation office. Okay, where was that? Across the river and down the road. Hmmm... He finally found the place and then waited in line for two hours to get his ticket, but he couldn't get the one he wanted because all those tickets had been booked out. It seemed he was right about wanting to get his ticket booked as soon as possible. So I figured I should get my ticket booked as well. But first I wanted to check out how to go and visit a tiger sanctuary that is near Kolkata.
On the day I arrived, as we were walking about following the helpful, but unwilling to pay attention to what he was told about budgets, man leading us to various hotels, I had seen a big banner above one street saying something about tour bookings. I stopped and looked up at it. As I did that, the man in the office that it was pointing to noticed me and popped out to let me know that it was him who was responsible for the sign. I told him I would come to find out about things when I had gotten settled. It took me two days to get back, but I did get back. I talked to Rajesh about his tour to the Sunderbans reserve. And it sounded so interesting that I decided to do it. Most of what made it seem like a good idea though was Rajesh. He is quite personable and seems to be a straight shooting kind of guy. And before I left I also decided to take the city tour he offers on the back of a motorbike.
Then, having settled that, I got directions to the foreigner train ticket reservation office and started out. Unfortunately, I headed out onto the main street. I hadn't even given the two guys who had accompanied me to the Victoria Monument another moment's thought. But I should have. As I was walking down the sidewalk following the directions I had, I met the two guys again. And they deftly steered me to the shop where the one guy worked. And the owner sat me down, and gave me chai and showed me all kinds of scarves and then told me what was recognizably a ridiculous price. And I had told him I wasn't interested in buying anything. I'm not sure why exactly I did end up buying the two scarves I bought, but I did. And I felt quite good about working him down to half the price he had asked. Good, until I realized that I had still paid 40 dollars for the two of them, and in India, that still means an absolutely ridiculous price. I thought hard about how to avoid this again. I figured it out. I decided that in the future, I will just ask them where the manufacturing spot is. And I will explain that I won't buy anything that isn't at the point of production. That will keep me out of most of the trouble. And when I am in a rural spot where they are making the scarves and I know that the right people are getting the money, then I won't be upset about paying and buying.
Having made the somewhat regrettable purchase, and after a couple of missed turns and asking several people for help, I did find the ticket office. After an hour waiting in line (during which the desks served only twelve other people), I got a ticket out to Darjeeling for the evening of the day I would be arriving back from the Sunderban Tiger Reserve. I headed out and decided to go back to the Howrah Bridge.
It had had lots of people on it the first day as we went across in the taxi and just looked interesting. This day there were less people, and it was a bit rainy. But after the rain came out, I was able to watch people and to take a few photos. While I was doing that, a man came up to me and, in broken English, told me that I wasn't allowed to take photos on the bridge. I wasn't sure why, or even if that was the truth, but I put my camera away and then headed to the end of the bridge. And then I saw a sign up above the bridge saying that photos were prohibited. Oops!! But I didn't get rid of my photos from the bridge. So they are forbidden fruit. (I'm such a bad boy. :)
But at the end of the bridge, I looked down and saw a flower market that was really busy. I thought it was interesting and I stood and watched for a few minutes and took some photos of the people down in the market.
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