Funny old day. On Eugenia’s recommendation, we decided to go to Dunhinda Falls. It sounded like the timing would be a bit tight – just one train there and one back and only two or three hours in between to get to the waterfall – but what the heck, let’s do it.
Got to the station in plenty of time, in hopes of getting a seat on the right side for the vistas, and ended up sitting on it for half an hour plus after the supposed departure time. Spent most of the waiting time chatting to an Indian guy, who told us he worked for Amazon in Texas. “I’ve been there for about ten years now, and I like the place, and I really appreciate the opportunities it’s given me. But the last year or so has been something else.”
He went on to tell us how he no longer dares go to the State Fair, or any other big public event, for fear of rednecks with guns who just don’t like brown people, and now feel pretty much entitled to shoot them, for no reason. “We are constantly accused of stealing their jobs, though we represent less than point-one of the population. Racial abuse is a daily experience, along with real fear for your life.” I asked him whether he plans to stay there. Unlike Eugenia, he couldn’t wait to get back to the homeland, but was planning to stay for a few more years “just keeping my head down and paying my taxes,” by which time he will have saved enough to retire at 40 and return to India.
Getting off the train at Badullah, we were approached by a tuk tuk driver who offered to take us to the waterfall trailhead, and wait a couple of hours for us, and drive us back, all for 2,000 rupees – a fiver. Who could quibble? Off we went.
From the trailhead, we followed a weird knobbly rack, through what felt like an endless wasteland of abandoned stalls, up and down hundreds of irregular steps, along muddy tracks and over streams and boulders, till eventually we got to the waterfall itself. Which was terrific. Though we couldn’t get down to the water for a dip, which we’d been looking forward to. Oh well. It would have been a quick dip in any case, since the delay on the way out meant we had to leave almost immediately, if we weren’t to miss the return train.
We got back with 20 minutes to spare – enough time, we’d hoped, to let us nab a couple of prime seats on the scenic side. Which we did. Bang on time, we pulled out of the station, went a couple of hundred metres, then stopped. Then went into reverse. We stopped at the station, then sat there for another 45 minutes, while they apparently dealt with some engine trouble.
Finally, we drew out, and off we went. And the return journey made it all worthwhile, with wonderful views of the stunning landscape – me sitting on the floor in an open doorway, happily snapping away for all I was worth. Virle meanwhile had a go at the TikTok experience…
