I travel by train to Jaipur from Delhi. It’s only a 5 hour journey but the train is a sleeper – meaning the carriages are set out with bunks. I opt for the bottom bunk, where I sit for a good hour crossed legged trying to read, with a cocked neck and bent back, stuffed into a sort of cubby-hole, until someone gets on at the next stop and, with the slightest turn of their hand, simply moves the seat/bunk into its correct position. I can then sit like a normal human.
I am still battling fatigue, but I can’t bring myself to lie down on one of the free bunks because of an abject fear of having my backpack stolen so instead I choose to be a nodding dog for the entirety of the journey – drifting into sleep and then violently shuddering awake and reflexively kicking the seat, in front of a packed compartment, each time my neck droops. This is desperately uncomfortable but preferable to backpack theft, I conclude. I arrive in Jaipur and pay a tuktuk driver way over the odds to drive me what can’t be more than a mile down the road to my hostel. I’m still learning.
A Bratt Abroad 