After packing my bags once again, I got to bed around 10:30pm, a little later than I had hoped because I got back up at 2:15AM to finish getting ready and pack the last of my things. My ride showed up a bit early, around 3AM and we were on the road well before 3:30AM in time to catch my train an hour later.
We arrived at the station in plenty of time. In fact, my train was 20 minutes late, so I had no worries. When it arrived I made my way to the correct platform but accidentally got on the wrong coach. For some reason I thought I had a seat on the 2AC coach, but I was actually on the 3AC coach. Unfortunately and much to my embarrassment, my mistake awoke a sleeping couple when I tried to take over the extra bed they had covered with their stuff. I soon found the correct compartment and settled myself into my bed. Lying in this compartment, I was concerned for my luggage and only nodded off for about an hour.
By 9AM I had gotten just a little sleep, but the girl in the bunk above me was gone so I could put the bunk down and sit up like the two girls across from me had done about an hour earlier. For the first time I was able to actually look out the window while we moved along toward Patna, the capital of the state of Bihar. I spent the morning chatting with my friend Yossi in New York City which was really nice because I needed to connect with that reality a little bit after the ashram. We arrived in Patna sometime after 10AM which was perfect since it was getting late in NYC by that point.
At the platform, I stepped off the train with my luggage and found a chair to sit on while I wait for my next train. I didn't know which platform I needed to be on yet, so I figured I might as well stay put until I heard an announcement. Sitting there I drew quite a bit of attention, many friendly looks, and some off-putting ones too. I didn't have to wait long though, because about 40 minutes later, my train arrived on Platform 10, which was a bit of a walk through the overpass as I was on Platform 2. Walking to the platform was difficult holding my heavy bag in one hand, my backpack on my shoulders and the bag I got with my prasad in my other hand. I walked down to the platform and looked for my coach which required me to walk almost the entire length of the train. Eventually I found my car and took my seat storing my big bag in the overhead storage. This car was a bit different because it was for day travel and had rows of seats like an airplane instead of beds. A large family sat across the aisle from me and the grandfather took the seat next to mine. As we waited for the train to depart, two young men stood over the grandfather and I looking at my iPhone watching as I put my passport away after showing it to the conductor. I've found it difficult in India to tell when people are sincerely curious about me or looking to rip me off. I was a little unsure about these two guys because they seemed so fascinated by me and they were acting a little odd. But Indian's don't seem to have the same sense of personal space that westerners do. Still, the two seemed to be ok and we chatted for a while as the train departed until they were told to take their seats. When we arrived in Gaya, the two guys also got off, and were helpful in getting me a porter and guiding me in the right direction, wishing me a pleasant trip.
Outside of the station was total chaos, something I was expecting as I was forewarned that Gaya is very different than Bodhgaya. I was expecting a driver that was arranged for me by Raj, my guide in Varanasi. Umesh arrived late, but he wasn't alone, there was another man driving the car, which was actually a small SUV with a small Buddha statuette on the dashboard. After loading my bags, we took off for Bodhgaya through the noisy and crowded streets of Gaya Junction, and past the bustling markets of Gaya City.
Before long we had left Gaya proper and entered a forested area that was much quieter, less busy, and more peaceful. I felt a very distinct shift in the energy and noticed how beautiful this area was.
As we approached Bodhgaya the energy became a little more intense as the streets were busier, but still more peaceful than Gaya, Varanasi, Agra or Delhi. While I'd hesitate to call Bodhgaya clean, it was far cleaner than the other cities I'd seen, albeit terribly dusty. It was also the first place outside of the ashram where I didn't feel like I was in a fish bowl being observed by everyone I encountered. There were many tourists here, as well as pilgrims from all over the world. The population included westerners, Indians, Tibetans, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, and many other cultures where Buddhism plays an important role.
We arrived at my hotel and Umesh quickly spoke with the staff there which sped up the check-in process. We agreed to meet the following day to discuss tour possibilities, and then he was off. One of the hotel staff took my big bag and led me to my room which was not luxurious, but certainly adequate and comfortable. I got settled and relaxed for a bit, struggling with the terrible wifi in my room. After some time in great frustration, I decided I had enough and ventured out to get something to eat.
I left the hotel and headed to the Tibetan Quarter where most of the better restaurants are, near the Mahabodhi Temple. Along the way I saw several temples, monasteries, monks in saffron robes, tourists snapping pictures, and Indians and Tibetans selling baubles of all sorts. I found my way to where the restaurants were and recognized some of the names from the Rough Guide and Trip Advisor. I made my way to Be Happy Cafe, where I was told at the ashram I'd find the best cup of coffee in Bodhgaya. The place was quite small, but clean and cute. I was greeted by three Indians inside and seated at a table. There were two other tables occupied by other tourists. The menu was very simple comprised of standard American breakfasts, Italian pasta dishes, pizza, coffee and several delicious sounding desserts. I ended up ordering a latte and a slice of carrot cake. The cake came out first and I slid the fork gently into the end lifting a moist piece of cake with loads of fresh carrot embedded in a soft brown cake with smooth white icing delicately spread on top. The cake entered my mouth and I almost reached enlightenment. Now keep in mind, this was the first taste of food outside of the ashram, but it was by far the best piece of carrot cake I've ever had. The coffee came as I had devoured about half the cake, served in a clear cup with a generous amount of frothy foam on top. The coffee was every bit as delicious as the cake, and best part is the two together cost me less than $3, worth every penny.
Having had dessert, it was now time to find some dinner (this order occurred pretty regularly on the ashram). I located another name I recognized from the guides as a "must try" place, Mohammad's Restaurant. I sat outside and pored through a rather large menu comprised of multi-national cuisines. Their Tibetan selection was pretty substantial and I was anxious to try that. I ordered a Thukpa soup, vegetable momos (dumplings), aloo pakora (fried potato), mango lassi, and a bottle of water. I noticed that the restaurant was very tourist friendly, using filtered water for everything instead of tap water. There was a clear sense of attention to hygiene and cleanliness, which is not always so common in India.
The soup came out first and it was huge. The broth was a beautiful dark yellow and there were piles of what looked like bok choy, carrot, and spaghetti-like noodles. It had a strong cabbage flavor which I enjoyed, almost like a soup made out of egg roll.
Next up was the aloo pakora, a traditional Indian dish, but one I hadn't tried before with potatoes. The were like mini-knishes, very filling but tasty. There were 6 large pakoras on the plate and I only managed to eat half of them.
Finally the momos came and once again I tasted heaven. The filling was similar to the contents of the soup and the dumpling was thick, delicate, and flavorful.
The dinner was one of the best I've had in a long time, and by far the best in India so far. I ended up with 3 pakoras and a momo left over which I was able to give to a woman and her children on my way home. Walking back to the hotel I saw several vendors selling jewelry, malas (religious beads), bags, scarves, shawls, key chains, and countless other souvenirs, crafts, and spiritual implements. During my walk I was approached by two teenage boys who spoke in almost perfect English. The were telling me a story that they worked with an orphanage teaching children, and that they could show me around to earn a little extra money. I wasn't really buying their story as Umesh had warned me about talking to locals. They will try to earn your trust and then somehow liberate some of your cash and valuables. I had a firm grip on the bag that held my money and camera, but played along for a while. They asked me to come to tea, which Umesh warned me was one of the tricks, but I refused and continued to the hotel.
Ending the night in my hotel room, I spent quite a while writing in my journal, and too much time futzing with the crappy internet until my frustration and exhaustion overtook my determination.
