Delhi Belly On A 17-Hour Train Ride

A Traveler’s Nightmare

What’s the worst you can imagine happening on a train trip through India? Well aside from an accident or tragedy, one of the worst things I could imagine would be getting a case of Delhi Belly while on a lengthy train trip and that’s exactly what happened.

During my 3-month tour of India, I decided that I wanted to take an overnight rail trip just for the experience. I had seen the images of people riding the trains, sometimes hitching a ride on the roof of passenger cars. While I had no intention of doing that, I thought, “I can’t go to India and not ride the rails at least once,” and decided if it went well it would be my preferred mode of transportation.

When my train had pulled into the Udaipur station I gathered my bags and went to find my seat, even though the train didn’t leave for another hour. I found the second-class sleeper car #1, but when I got on board there were no lights inside. Luckily I had my flashlight with me so I was able to find seat number 15. At first, I was disappointed it was a single-seat with someone facing me less than a meter away, while the seats across the aisle were bench seats which I thought would have given me more room. I was wrong. Turns out they were for 3 people each and when you pulled them out to make the beds there were 3 stacked and facing each other, while ours were two singles, like bunk beds, slightly more private.

By the time the train was ready to pull out of the station there were only a few people in the car, two of them were me and the guy sitting across from me. I learned Hitesh is from Udaipur but working for a company in Mumbai so he was visiting his parents, who he introduced to me before the train departed. He works in IT and had just spent 3 years living and working in Amsterdam, a man of the world and one of the few people in India not freaked out by my nose ring. He also spoke excellent English and was very helpful in explaining how it all worked.

First things first, and he set me straight when he told me that the 7–8 hour journey I was told to expect, was going to be about 17–18 hours!

As we stopped in various cities and towns along the way, the train quickly filled up, usually in a state of pandemonium as people rushed on board to find their seats and get settled before the train pulled out again. It was pretty funny to watch and Hitesh and I were laughing at all the yelling, the crying babies, and the craziness all around us.

It was the only laughs I would get on the train because in just a few short hours I would be stuck squatting over a toilet trying not to fall over or make a mess of my clothes.

About halfway through the marathon ride, I awoke from a fitful sleep with a stomach ache and an acid reflux feeling in my chest and stomach… oh oh… not a good sign. I don’t get motion sickness so I knew that wasn’t it, but I thought I had better go to the latrine just to be safe. I positioned myself carefully over the squat toilet (not easy on a moving train, but I had a bit of experience with the maneuver during my trip) and that’s when the nightmare began.

Luckily I had a roll of toilet paper with me (don’t travel without it!) and a couple of Imodium tablets that I took immediately. My only hope was that I wouldn’t get sick to my stomach because doing that over a squat toilet on a train ride to Mumbai would be just too cruel a cosmic joke. In fact about an hour later the entire car was wracked by the sounds of a woman loudly vomiting in the latrine. I quickly put in my earbuds and blasted my iPod, because I certainly could not listen to that and not get sick myself.

I started wracking my brain, what could have caused this sudden case of traveler’s diarrhea? You can never be sure. I’d been in India for 2 ½ weeks and hadn’t had a bit of trouble so far. As I went through everything I had eaten and drank for the past 72 hours, I decided that it must have been the mango juice I had at lunch. I was a little suspicious when the waiter said it came from a can even though he brought it to me in a glass. I had been warned to beware of that. It also tasted a little off like it might have been watered down, but I drank it anyway. The golden rule: always trust your gut instincts! (no pun intended).

At this point, my biggest immediate concern was the smell on the train. It was overwhelming at times, sewage mixed with smoke from fires along the tracks — burning trash or from cooking fires — combined with B.O. and a few of the other travelers who didn’t have the decency not to “break wind” on a crowded train.

My rail adventure had become my worst nightmare. I just needed to get through the next 8–10 hours… an absolutely horrendous thought. My stomach problems were relentless, despite the Imodium (I took 4 doses to slow things down- which unfortunately didn’t happen until the end of the trip.)

I was running to the latrines every 10–15 minutes, hoping that one of them would be open and relatively clean. Each time though was a new adventure. At one point as I was squatting down, the door flew open and an elderly man was standing there, just staring down at me. For someone who grew up relatively sheltered and avoided talk about bodily functions, you can imagine the horrified look on my face. I thought I had bolted the door so I realized at that moment that I would have to be more vigilant. After daylight, I also realized that the toilet emptied directly onto the tracks, you could look down and see the tracks zipping past.

Every time we would stop at another station (it was the milk run from Udaipur to Mumbai with more than a dozen stops), the smells would get worse, and the vendors who would board the train, walking through with Chai, sandwiches, and pastries didn’t help. The thought of food sent my stomach into flips and flops.

Since I had expected it to be an 8-hour journey, I didn’t bring much water along, only about 1 liter so I mentioned to my seatmate Hitesh that if someone comes along selling bottled water to get my attention. At the next station stop, he disappeared, returning with a big bottle of water that he wouldn’t take payment for. It was that kind and considerate attitude that I experienced throughout my trip through India.

If it wasn’t for Hitesh, I don’t know how I would have made it through. He helped make the trip bearable, someone who just a few hours earlier was a complete stranger. His stop was one before mine but before disembarking he made sure I knew where I was going. I thanked him profusely for everything he had done for me.

When the train finally arrived at the busy Mumbai Bandra Railway Station, I gathered my things and made my way off the train. I was weak and shaky and still not feeling any better. I just wanted to get to my hotel as fast as possible so I could shower and get a good sleep. I had booked a hotel close to the train station but hadn’t checked to see the best route to get there.

As I dragged my bags off the train, a young guy came up to me and asked if he could help. I knew that was likely a scam but thought I would give him some cash and at least I wouldn’t have to drag my bags to the taxi. We got to the lineup of taxis and I should have realized something was up when he didn’t bring me to the next taxi in line. Again, I was too caught up in my weakened state to pay it too much attention. I told the driver where the hotel was and he said he knew where it was. I also knew I should settle on the price before getting inside the taxi but I ignored that advice too.

As we started driving through the marketplace and the streets behind the train station, I started to get suspicious. It was taking a lot longer than I expected and the meter was adding up fast.

I started to protest, telling the driver that I thought he was trying to scam me, that the hotel was supposed to be close to the train station and this was taking me too far out. He said we were on our way and would be there shortly. As it dragged on, I started to protest louder, telling him to pull over and let me out. When he refused, I said I was going to call the police. We were loudly arguing now when he pulled up to the front of a hotel and said this is it. He said it would be about 2000 rupees (about $30CDN), but I argued that I was told the hotel was close to the station. Finally, I gave up and paid him the money, I was just too sick and tired to argue anymore. I just wanted to go up to my room where I slept for the next two days.

When I felt a little better I went out to get a bite to eat near the hotel. I walked about half a block and found myself in front of the train station. I was an easy mark and the taxi driver had scammed me. It was a lesson I would not forget and wouldn’t ever let that happen again.

I also decided that if I take another train, at least in India, it will be first-class all the way. It turned out to be one of the worst experiences I had up to that point, and it gave me a harsh introduction to the city of Mumbai. It took spending more time there, in other parts of the city, to feel safe again and it turned out to be one of my favorite cities in the world.