Saturday 12th January

Saturday 12^th January

Bicheno this week…I have taken a week off to be with 2/4 of my offspring and 6/8 of my grandchildren and 2/3 of my sons-in-law. 

Yesterday it was VERY hot and sunny and we all, at various times, plunged happily into the beautiful bright water of Waub’s Bay.  Katy and I were delighted to see a school of tiny fish leaping out of he water just near us.  I said that this must mean there is something BIG frightening the fish, and she said, cheerily, “It doesn’t have to be very big to frighten such tiny fishies.”  Well no… But Meriloy told me on Wednesday that last weekend she and Richard, from their runabout, saw a white pointer cruising past Waub’s Bay… “Only a baby one,” she said kindly.  But a baby one is still 1.8 metres…

India #67

After our morning at the fabulous Taj, we rather thought the Fort would be an anti-climax.  Pete asked Gupta if he could drive right around the fortifications so that we could get an idea of the extent, and so that Mary could see as much as possible before being parked under a tree.  “No,” said Gupta, calmly.  “That isn’t possible.  Traffic can’t go that way.”  Oh well… We all accepted this.  No we didn’t!  Pete said, “Well I think you could just keep on driving that way, around the wall, and WE WILL SEE if traffic can go round or not.”  He was right to be assertive, around the walls we glided, no problems at all, no one-way streets, or traffic jams, just a slightly annoyed-looking Gupta. 

         

The Fort was fabulous.  From the top we could see the Taj Mahal floating on the edge of the quiet river.  We explored very happily then went off for an early meal before catching the train back to Delhi.  The train was very crowded and the seats very uncomfortable – for me, anyway.  Other people seemed to be clamouring to sit in them; I am such a princess, aren’t I, always whingeing about seats, and beds… There was a bit of a dispute about seats, and in fact almost a bit of biff between angry ticketholders and the conductor who had almost certainly taken a bribe for re-allocating seats.  I was very happy to let the two disgruntled young blokes have my seat, and I sent the whole trip leaning on the railings at the back of the carriage – MUCH more comfortable.  Pete joined me so the blokes had two seats; they were thrilled and spent the whole trip in intense conversation with Vish while Mary, Lorraine and Hana dozed fitfully.  An older man further down the carriage had been watching all of this and he obviously disapproved most mightily that I, a middle-aged female foreigner, a guest in his country, had given up her seat to healthy young Indian men.  He scowled ferociously at them; they were quite oblivious.  And in fact I was very happy leaning on the back of the seats, watching the comings and goings of the chai wallahs and shoe polishers gathered at the end of the carriage.  The chai wallahs finished their sales and then sat cheerily on their billies outside the toilets, smoking surreptitiously and trying to add up their take.  Pete helped them with this; it was all a big struggle, with long lists of figures pencilled on scruffy bits of paper.  One of the young blokes with a shoe kit repaired some shoes for a conductor; it was a most fascinating, skilled process.  The shoes were so wrecked that any Australian would have thrown them out, but he sewed and stitched and threaded and knotted, and then buffed and polished these tired old shoes until they were gleaming and good as new.  For this he received about 35 rupees - $1!  If we had been sitting on our seats we would have missed out on all of this work and socialisation going on in the twilight world between carriages.