Destination India by Katy Colins

Author:Katy Colins [Colins, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781474046718
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-08-24T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Candour (n.) The state or quality of being frank, open and sincere in speech or expression

Fifteen long hours later our train wheezed to a final stop and everyone around us started to collect their things and wearily stretch their legs. With our backpacks heavy on our shoulders we patiently filed off the creaking train and out into the bright streaming sunlight.

I waved goodbye to the man who I felt like I’d shared my life story with and the kind new mum and trotted to keep up with the others. Difficult to do as the station concourse was like a beating heart. Throngs of people poured past in the clammy oppressive heat, a tidal wave of commuters, a sea of faces all heading in the same direction sweeping myself and the tour group along with them.

Thankfully, a minibus was already waiting for us and the driver, an overweight man with a serious handlebar moustache and a limp fag between his rubbery lips, was soon hoisting our bags onto the roof and strapping them down.

‘Is that safe?’ Liz asked biting her thumbnail.

I looked up at the fraying straps and wondered the same thing.

‘Well if it falls off then some poor sucker will just be getting a bag full of my dirty undies.’ Bex laughed and roughly slapped Liz on the back. ‘Don’t worry so much.’

Liz nodded and took a last look at the roof rack before climbing in the minibus. I clambered on afterwards and noticed that she had taken the seat next to Ollie, both of their faces a lovely shade of crimson as their elbows banged together over the sticky armrest.

Nihal slammed the door shut and jumped into the front seat before turning round to face us all, his grubby shirt getting trapped in the gaps of the seventies-style beaded seat cover.

‘OK, we made it. So we’re going to head to the hotel and drop our things off and have a shower.’ A cheer of applause erupted from the back of the van. ‘Yeah, I can smell half of you from here.’ He winked. ‘Then we’ll meet again in a couple of hours to head to the next stop on the tour. We’re going to take another trip but this time by boat. Don’t worry it’s only a short journey to take us to Elephanta Island. A place that I can assure you will be worth the effort.’

I’d never felt so clean and fresh in my life after a long shower in the small hotel where the water had turned brown as dirt, sweat and the stresses of the train washed off me and settled down the rusty plughole. We were soon back in the minibus driving to the famous Gateway of India, down wide lanes of noisy, fast-flowing traffic against the backdrop of a buzzing metropolis of skyscrapers that reflected the sun’s blinding rays. The non-stop beeping of horns wasn’t just a Delhi issue; all the drivers were at it here too. The humidity was exhausting, my hair had frizzed up like some badly kept Afro and beads of salty sweat trickled down my arms.

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