Ooty's Toy Train
(vero;2015-May-09)
We also have a photo gallery dedicated to this trip.
Vero coming from a railway family, we seem poised to ride on all possible (and impossible) trains which happen to cross our itineraries (spare a thought for Thomas who definitely doesn't come from a railway family). But this time, the Ooty Toy Train being fully booked weeks in advance, it looked very unlikely that we would get a ride. We knew that few seats were available on the day on a first come — first served basis, but had dismissed the idea, as we did not fancy queuing for such a frail possibility…
Once in Ooty however, we went to the station to enquire, just in case… We were told that indeed there are 15 unreserved tickets available every day and that the sale would start at 12:15 sharp (for a 14:00 departure): just come 15 minutes before, you should be fine. We were sceptical about our chances of getting a ticket and were not that keen, but hey, as things go, on the following day, the weather being less than perfect, we decided to try our luck. When we arrived at 11:45, we were quite shocked to see that a crowd thronged the small station. We were about to leave without even trying when we spotted Emilie, a nice girl from France whom we had met on the bus to Ooty, waving to us.
She told us that all those people were in fact queuing for the 12:15 to Coonoor. She had been advised to stand in front of the counter, next to the existing queue and thus start a new one for the 14:00 to Mettupalayam. OK, so we joined her and were thus second in line… The reaction in the Coonoor queue was immediate: many Indian people suspecting us to jump the queue while benefiting from our status as foreigners were getting vocal: the queue started to disintegrate and form a somewhat rowdy grape around the counter. Fortunately, a quite robust railway employee appeared quickly and explained that we were not queuing for their train and therefore, please go back to the queue and stop shouting…
The queue to Coonoor got shorter; at one point in time, they started selling “Standing Only” tickets and then it went quiet. We wondered how so many people could fit in the small train but did not really bother. Our counter opened exactly as the Coonoor train left, at 12:15. We were in unreserved sleeper class and the ticket was dirt cheap: an incredible 15 Rs per person (for info, sleeper with reservation costs 30 Rs and first class 205 Rs (!)). We had 100 minutes to kill and wanted to go for a stroll, but the railway guy advised us to join the “unreserved queue” if we wanted a good seat. So we did. And this was very good, because we discovered later on, that there were around 60 unreserved passengers (although only 15 seats were available for sale at the counter … no idea how the others had got their tickets).
When the train arrived, the robust railway guy reappeared and it was clear that he was not going to accept any rush or complaint … Imagine an old steam train with old coaches of five compartments, each compartment independent from the other with its own door opening on the platform, and with two seats accommodating five people facing each other and little space for legroom between them. Under his supervision, the unreserved crowd started to board: the first passengers were “loaded” in the first compartment (more than 10, so it seemed), and it was our turn. The energetic railway man decided to bundle all foreigners, so he gathered the five of us, and opened the second door. Once we had settled and stowed all our bags under the seats, he let five Indians join our group. Then came the three other compartments, and here again, there were definitely more than 10 people pressed in each one. But we did not complain, even when at the last minute, he pushed a confused Japanese man into our compartment whom he had at first mistaken for an Indian: Order Must Prevail!
We left on time and the ride was really enjoyable: we drove through scenic tea plantations, the tracks were skirting precipitous hills allowing great views on villages below or on the road winding its way down the mountain, there was a breeze through the open windows, we had a pleasant conversation with our fellow passengers, it was perfect. The train would stop at small stations along the way to cool the steam engine and as our coach was the first one behind the locomotive, steam would creep inside at every start (or before entering a tunnel) and make us laugh. We reached Coonoor's station after about one hour and were surprised to see a pressing crowd on the platform. Nothing happened for a while and all of a sudden, before we even realised, it seemed they all wanted to board our coach. Our door flew open and masses started to storm our compartment. There was nothing we could do and there were suddenly nine people and their bags squeezed in the confined leg space between the seats. As more tried to board, it was quite a melee, some succeeding, others abandoning or giving up when they realised how full it was, and doing so freeing up some space immediately regained by people still on the platform. Unbelievable!
The train left Coonoor eventually and then started the second, not so enjoyable part of the ride, which did last around two and a half hours. It got quite uncomfortable, especially for the people standing who were precariously balancing or often changing positions, but also for us as we were now squeezed and facing sweaty bodies and protruding bags, unable to move our feet or legs. There was respite each time the train stopped to cool the engine, then everybody would rush out to stretch, and then rush back again at the whistle blow. The more we descended into the plains, the stickier it got and the steam from the locomotive did not amuse us anymore! Nevertheless, we managed to catch some glimpses of the landscape as it unfolded before us and it was not all that bad. When we reached Mettupalayam at last, the foreigners were the last to leave the compartment. We were a bit dazed as we collected our bags but quickly started to joke and have a good laugh. Bonded by this common experience, all of us decided to wait together for the train to Coimbatore to continue our journey.
Later, we realised that our mistake lay in our timing: it was a Sunday, and Ooty is the perfect day trip for many Indians eager to breathe a bit of fresh air and escape the heat of the plains. Thomas spoke with an Indian young man: he had left his home in Palakkad at 2am in the night, caught a train to Coimbatore, changed there for Mettupalayam where he boarded the toy train to Ooty at 07:10am, arriving at noon. He saw nothing at all of Ooty, as he immediately took his place in the unreserved queue to make sure he would get a seat on the way down (that's where we met him as he asked us to keep his place in the queue so that he could grab something to eat)… He reckoned he would be back home about 24 hours after he'd left … What a way to spend a Sunday!
If you've liked the story, you might want to check our photo gallery dedicated to this trip.
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$updated from: Blog.htxt Mon 04 Mar 2024 16:04:41 trvl2 (By Vero and Thomas Lauer)$