At the beginning of 2011 I spent some time in North East India. I went first to Darjeeling to ride on the Darjeeling Himalayan Mountain Railway and to stay at the famous Windamere Hotel where the passing of the British Raj seems to have missed this hotel, where afternoon tea of cucumber sandwiches and scones with jam and cream is still served, fires are lit in the bedrooms and hot water bottles are provided on cold nights. Much of the old Hill Station still remains and at times it is difficult to remember that this is India and not Surrey. But the railway itself has seen better times and is certainly in a much worse condition than when I last visited here in 1982. Even so the little steam engines still provide a unforgettable way to ride from the flat lands to Darjeeling even if the road journey is considerable quicker. From Darjeeling I headed to Calcutta where I took the opportunity to once again explore this marvellous city. If Bombay is money and Delhi power then Calcutta is people and they are all here on the street to see, where every conceivable activity takes place in every and any conceivable place. And in between all this, between the decaying buildings, the river front and the narrow streets of the old town the trams make their way. Hampered by the congestion they clang their bells, nudge rickshaws and motor vehicles and eventually reach their destination.
