Winter means vast shrouds of fog that slow rail travel to a crawl, making for hours-long delays. Instead of teeth-gnashing, there's tea and nattering.
ABOARD THE PRAYAGRAJ EXPRESS, India — We're late. Very late. A nine-hour overnight train trip has turned into 16, and we're still miles from nowhere. It's winter in northern India and that means fog, great gobs of the stuff wreathing the land, causing shapes to appear out of the mist before slinking back into the void.
No comments:
Post a Comment