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The football last night could have gone better. All I'll say is that I needed the finest fish biryani in Calicut.
After a quick lunch I went to the train station to head for Goa. Like most of the trip so far, I had no reservations as I walked into the station. It was around eleven hours by train to Goa. Having no means of reserving a berth or any kind of seat, I had no choice but to purchase the feared unreserved or second
class ticket. I'd only heard whispers from fellow backpackers. 'One does not travel in the unreserved section.'
As the train arrived it was chaos. In anticipation of the madness to come, people even stood on the tracks to board the train from the other side. I leapt onto train, my backpack created some distance between me and the crowds. I managed to find some space. With some slight apprehension, I decided to occupy the luggage rack above the crowded seats below. I was a sardine in a can, holding on to my knees for around five or six hours. As people gradually disembarked, I eventually took a seat near the window. I was told the views from the train are amazing as it travels along the coast. I could only imagine, as people blocked out all natural light. What was great was talking to the people. This was the real India. Your average joe, travelling by train with only a fistful of rupees.
During my journey, I realised that the train does not stop at the station I needed. I was heading for south Goa so needed a small local station called Canacona, not the main terminal at Madgaon. I set my alarm for roughly the time I'll enter Goa.
Alarm goes off. It's 2AM. I look outside into the night to get an idea where I was. As the train slowed a little, someone next to me kept saying 'Canacona! Canacona! Canacona!' I thought maybe luck has decided to let me get off at my station. I grabbed my bags off the luggage rack.
Standing in the door way, a local then clarified that the train would not be stopping. I had two choices. Stay on the train, reach Madgaon, and pay an expensive two hour taxi ride to the hotel. Or join some other passengers and jump. After thinking it over (for about half a second), I decided on the latter option. I threw my bags out the door. Quickly clocked what tree they landed by. I then jumped off the train into some bushes. Luckily there was enough foliage to cushion the fall. An Indian Great Escape.
Looking back it was not big. Nor clever. But thankfully I was ok. I was pleased to get off at the right stop, save myself a two hour taxi and around two thousand rupees (around twenty five pounds English pounds).
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