13th August, 2012 – Day 2 – Part A

We got up early the next day, or rather Chitaranjan did and I took the excuse of letting him get ready first to grab an extra hour of sleep. The bed was really comfortable and I don’t know how or when I had turned 90 degrees (or some multiples of it!) to end up dozing with my head on Chit’s tummy… I confess it was marginally softer than the hotel’s soft pillows ;) Anyways he shoved me off and I had to re-align myself back on my side of the bed. By the time he was done with shower and whatever else he did inside (he took real long!) I was ready with my battle gear (against germs and those other stuff :p). I told Chitaranjan about the wifi facility and he got busy with that. It was evident he had a nice lavish bubble bath in the bath tub. There was still some foam on the walls. Being second I neither had the time nor intent to do the same. Admiring my amazing oversized-body (I guess we all do when given a chance :p) in the huge bathroom mirrors (just about managed to cover me ;), I went about  brushing, trimming my beard and taking a bath under the shower. I quickly changed my clothes and both of us began packing, or rather repacking, our stuff. Just before we left we realized that we didn’t do the customary photo shoot. So luggage went back on the floor and we started striking poses for the other to snap; both patiently clicking and waiting for their own chance. Finally we made our way down, having double checked that we had not left anything back. I had the local road map that Peter had given us along with the sheet with instructions for today and obviously whatever was left of our pocket money.

We returned the key at the reception and made our way out of the hotel. We roughly had an idea in which direction the railway station was, so we headed off confidently. It seemed to be office hour as we could see several people making their way to their offices; each dressed quite differently, some with tattoos, some with coloured hair, some who were bound to distract their male counterparts in the office (if you know what I mean ;). Once we were in the general location, we asked a passerby and she (obviously we won’t ask a he!) pointed us towards the station.

We entered ‘New Street’ station and found the ticket counter. I wished the lady good morning, took out a £5 note and asked for two tickets to the University (that’s the name of our stop; not that I anytime assumed there is only one University in England!), as was Peter’s instruction. She smilingly obliged, handing me the change (it was only £1.90 per person) and told me to proceed towards platform 10B. As we still had plenty of time (another hour or so to meet Peter at the University station) and neither of us had any breakfast, and more importantly I had just targeted an outlet of BurgerKing (or was it KFC)! I remembered having seen some combo offer on some street hoarding but couldn’t find that here. Rest everything was a tad too expensive (in our current scheme of things) for now, so we decided to move on. We got down the stairs and reached platform 10B where a train was already waiting. The signboard had a different destination to what Peter had told us; but this was platform 10B. So we asked a person nearby whether this train would stop at the University and he said no, that the next one would, and walked away. He quickly retraced his steps and came back to us, saying that the train would indeed stop at the University. We quickly dragged our luggage inside and the doors closed as the train started moving. Peter had told us that the University was the second stop from where we got on. So it was quite straightforward, we had to leave one station and get off at the next. We did confirm with a couple of elderly seated office-goers and they did confirm that it would go to the University. As the first station arrived, Chitaranjan asked an Asian passenger, who was getting off, about the University station. But due to the accent or whatever, he could not understand and apologized and got off. I didn’t bother trying my luck as it was just one more stop and also there was no easy to locate signboard at the station platform that we could spot through the window. The train resumed its journey. Soon the ticket checker came along, in uniform with a pretty huge device around his neck. I smiled and passed along our tickets. He took one look and said that we missed the stop. We were both surprised and/or shocked! How the… what the… damn! It turned out that this was a long distance train (and hence University was the very first stop) and the next stop was around 40 minutes away – which the ticket collector himself simplified for us that it would take around 2 hours for us to get back to our original destination. Luckily he didn’t ask us to take a fresh ticket for the remainder journey etc, but you could see that he was not too thrilled at having two guys with a bulk load of luggage and no tickets.

So we now had a good 40 minutes to while away before we could plan our next step. I was most concerned about Peter waiting for us at the station. I tried calling his number from my mobile but, as in the previous day, it didn’t connect. I was reluctant to ask the other passengers for using their mobile. It would have been so easy if one of them, having confirmed with them at the start about the route, would have told us to get off when the train stopped at the University. I tried messaging Peter and it was delivered, thought I lost Rs. 70 for two short messages. I took the map that I had but it seemed we had already gotten way beyond the maps limits. I passed the tickets and the book to Chitaranjan and began taking in the splendid scenery outside. There were huge farmlands and the journey was certainly a treat for the eye if nothing else.

After a long time we got off at the next station – Cheltenham Spa  (God knows where that would be on a map). We walked towards the exit and I spotted a rail phone beside it. It had two buttons – one for emergencies and the other for rail info. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t consider this an emergency and so pushed the second button. After some recorded messages were played out, quite loud infact, I was pretty sure others standing around could clearly hear it, a lady picked up asked us how she could help. We told her that we were at Cheltenham Spa and that we wanted to go towards the University at Birmingham and wanted to know the train schedule and the ticket fare. She checked her system and got back, again the speaker being quite loud, telling us that the next direct train would be in another 40 minutes or so  and that the fare for 2 adults would come out to be something like £43! After that “Forty…” I couldn’t focus much :p I verified that the price was for 2 adults on a one-way journey to University and she confirmed. The announcements being quite loud, I didn’t want us to appear like a couple of fools and so didn’t bother pestering her further. Chitaranjan obviously having heard the price was shocked and asked me. I said yeah that’s what she said, but let’s go to the ticket counter and confirm.

There were two counters – one with an old guy and the other a younger chap. The latter was free and a quick stereotyping made me think that the young guy would be more understanding and helpful, whereas the old guy might be a sticking by the books kind of guy from long service, and so I made my way to the younger one. I told him what had happened and asked him the price for the tickets. He naturally told us the same rate just in a different way - £21.50 per person! I went back to Chitaranjan and told him the news, both of us laughing at one another. We started counting how much we had on us and considering we were each given £20 in the first place, there was no way we could bring up enough for the ticket – not to say after having had a very nice dinner the night before! I walked back to the counter and asked them whether they would accept dollars. As was expected he said no. I asked him whether there was any currency exchange centre nearby. He said that there was a post office just across the station and they might have it. I asked Chitaranjan to wait with the luggage while I walked along towards the post office, which was quite close by. It was actually located within a supermarket, as is quite the norm here it appears. I joined the short queue and began looking through all the info that was put up on the notices and posters. I saw something about dollar rate, euro rate etc and was glad that our problem was to be solved. As my chance came, I told the lady I wanted to convert $50 to £. She looked apologetic and said that they only converted Euros there. I asked her about the exchange rates that were posted to which she replied something that I could not make out. I didn’t bother asking her again- quite simply I was not going to get any dollars converted there! So I walked back to the station to pass on the great news to Chitaranjan. I went back to the ticket counter and told him that the post office turned us down and asked what we could do now. He said that there is a bus every 10 mins to town, a short while away, from the station and there we would certainly be able to get our money converted.  I told Chitaranjan the same .He said that we should rather just travel ticketless and see what happens when caught. I wasn’t too keen on the same as it would basically involve Peter having to get us out of trouble and I didn’t want to bug him more especially after wasting his time in the morning. Me and Chitaranjan had quite a bit of to and fro on this and finally agree that I would call up Peter, and see if he offers any suggestion on this; else I go to town, get cash and buy the tickets. Inbetween, Chitaranjan got an international call on his mobile and with the remote possibility of it being Peter, I told him to pick it up. He reluctantly did and I observed him trying to make out what might be going on. It turned out that it was a spirited telemarketer from back in India who just ate up Chit’s Rs.80 for accepting an incoming call while on international roaming! I grinned and left.

I found a payphone just outside the station and put in a few coins and began dialling Peter’s number. Immediately Chitaranjan came running along and began waving excitedly. I quickly cut the call, ensuring I got my coins back and followed Chitaranjan. He was talking to an Indian guy, middle-aged and a few extra pounds here and there. There is this saying that India’s unity in diversity truly comes alive when you are abroad (does that saying actually exist or did I make it up?!). We shaked hands and introduced ourselves and our situation. He said that since we had accidentally missed our stop, we need not bother getting fresh tickets and could just explain the matter at the counter. We told him that we had already tried that. He asked us to show our tickets. Chitaranjan took out the map book and picked out the two tickets from inside it. The Indian guy took it up to the counter, this time the one with the older chap. You could see that the Indian was a resident of the place by how well he knew the staff and greeted them by name. He narrated our story and the old guy said that we could hop on the train and explain to the ticket checker and that he will decide on what to do. Unless he was in a particularly grumpy mood, he would let us go. I guess I forgot initially, when deciding on the counters, that with age one earns both experience and wisdom. So now that we were being advised by two more experienced people, we were convinced on how to proceed. We thanked the Indian guy and he left.

I decided to go back and call Peter to inform him the story till now. He picked up and I started off asking him whether he received my message earlier. He said no he had not (damn! I was charged Rs.70, never mind, but on top of it never got delivered!). I began apologizing profusely and explained the situation. I hate it when I waster others time and was really sorry about this. I told him that we were planning to catch a train back and that since it would take time we shall get off at the University and make our way to the accommodation and then give him a call. I finished off saying that since language won’t be an issue here, we could certainly manage it on our own. That line sounded quite familiar as I had used it just the previous night when I convinced him that we could find our way to the University station on our own! :p As I started running out of coins, I had to hang-up soon after. We walked towards our platform and made ourselves comfortable as there was still a wait for our train to arrive. Fiddling around in my pocket, out came a couple of tickets. And these were the ones that I had bought today morning. Then what was inside the map book that Chitaranjan had taken out?! Surprised we opened the map book to find the two tickets. Looking at the date we saw that they were dates 6 months back! Obviously there were tickets that Peter might have taken on some earlier travel and left in the map book. And these were the tickets that we had been showing around everywhere – to the Indian, the station master and possibly even the ticket checker! The fact that none of them saw anything wrong tells you how observant they were :p

After some time our train came and we hopped on. This time we kept track of every passing station, ensuring that we didn’t blunder again. We did hope that the ticket collector didn’t turn up, but obviously hoping wasn’t going to stop him. He did appear soon and approached us. We had taken out our map book and pamphlets to make it more than evident, if it wasn’t already with all our luggage and interesting story, that we were tourists and new to the place. We narrated our story again and put on our sad faces ;) Like the previous ticket checker, this one wasn’t too amused either but left with a feeble smile. Woohoo we had just saved over £40! J After around 40 minutes, we were back where we had passed by almost 2 hours ago – the University station!

To be continued…