As I have grown to expect, no good hostel is very far from a travel agent. Varanasi was no exception. I walked 12 feet across the alley into a closet of a travel agency. I could tell I was getting tired of the road, I still had a month on my Visa and I was not even tempted by the glossy photos of fun and sun in the Southern part of India covering the wall. I just wanted out. I just wanted a train ticket to Delhi. And yes, that is not a sentence spoken very often.
There was a sleeper train that arrived early enough for me to catch the subway to the airport and be on a flight for lunch (Looking forward to airplane food. Hmmmm). I would be able to avoid another stay in Delhi too. The agent took my money and worked to get the ticket. I had hope that my train ticket experience going to Delhi would be better than getting out of Delhi. The ticket buying process was turning out to be the same as in Delhi. I kept checking back in through the day resulting in nothing but a wave and an index finger. In the US, that means ”hey, Working on in it, just be patient a little longer”. For all I knew, here it meant “Hah, Dumb ass tourist, what are you going to do?”. As I was trying to get on the overnight train to catch my plane in the morning, I was getting anxious just after lunch. Sitting in the German Bakery drinking coffee and carb loading on delicious sickly sweet bakery items was probably not helping matters.
Sitting in the oldest city in the world , you are probably why I couldn’t find anything better to do. Well, to be honest, I had reached my limit on India, the honking, the cow shit, the trash, the chaos. Maybe it would have been different if I weren’t traveling alone for a little diversion. Doesn’t really matter, I was tired and wanted out.
It was late afternoon, when the train tickets came through. I grabbed my bag and headed down a narrow alley into the mass of humanity, cows and the parade of dead people that is Varanasi. I squeezed into the first Tuk Tuk that asked and was off to the train station.
The train was on time. I had a sleeper. I have yet to have a bottom bunk in all of my train travel. I was 
not surprised when this trip was not going to be the exception. I climbed up, and lay my head on my pack for the 12 hour ride. With 5 other guys who didn’t seem to connect the cabin type with what was supposed to happen there. It was a long evening of popular Music Videos without headphones. And you would be mistaken if it was Beethoven, Coltrane or Merle.
My flight was 12:45. I was pretty happy to see the landscape change from country side to city around 8 am. The passengers were starting to mill around the passageway. I grabbed my bag and prepared for the crowded short walk from the Train Station to the Metro station. 3 hours later, we’re still trundling along. Delhi is huge. So huge that people were jumping off the train, long before arrival to save on the trip back from the train station. Finally, We rolled into the station around 11:30 and I dashed for the metro.
The Delhi Metro is really nice. You would never know what was going on a few feet above you as you’re riding in clean air conditioned comfort to the airport. I was cutting it close but crossed through security with 30 minutes to spare. Finally, some peace and quiet. I just wish I didn’t have to enjoy it in the departure lounge.
