Exotic India – A Diary of our Travels - First Stop Delhi

Delhi   25^th July -29^th July

On Tuesday 24^th July we had an early 4am start as we left home once again – a big thank you to Jess and Steve for getting up early as well and delivering us to the railway station. Our first flight took us to KL where we rested for the night at The Concorde International Airport Hotel and rose early again for our next flight, to Delhi. After a delicious buffet breakfast we were on our way. First lost item –  a NEW red sock left in room.

The plane touched down in Delhi ten minutes early. Passengers up and down the aisle sprang to their feet, opened the overhead lockers, grabbed their belongings and jostled for position to disembark. Not so fast! The boarding chute didn’t line up with the door opening. Seriously! Have another go boys. Whoops!  “Sit back down everyone we are going to push the plane back and start again.” Success! Had to have a giggle – was that a little Indian moment?

Welcome to Delhi!

Delhi Airport



India has a flash new international airport, built for the Commonwealth Games in 2010. Immigration was in a long marble hall. After a bit of tom-foolery on my part, pushing my passport ahead of Neil’s when we were in front of our serious immigration officer, I was informed that in India the man is boss. His demeanour was oh so serious but the stiff upper lip was also a little amused.  Once through immigration we found our bag, got some cash and headed for Gate 4. Our pick-up instructions were –

‘Our driver will be present at the airport Exit Gate no-4 outside with hotel placard on which your name would be displayed.
Please Note: If the driver tells you that the hotel is full/closed/under repair, don't trust the driver because touts at the airport copy your name on their placards and cheat, so never trust anyone until you arrive at the hotel.’ 

These instructions left me a little apprehensive. Would we be mobbed by touts?  Who could we trust? Perhaps I was a little bit disappointed. It was all too easy - getting out of the airport was a doddle. A lovely young man from the hotel was waiting for us, led us to the waiting taxi, a rather ramshackle vehicle, and we were soon dodging the traffic towards Old Delhi.

I chose and booked our hotel so I was aware that the surrounding area might appear a little dodgy but I think that I may have neglected to warn Neil. Our journey there had been along well planned streets in Central Delhi. All semblance of planning disappeared however when we entered Old Delhi. We entered a narrow street that was jam-packed with rickshaws, tuk-tuks, motorbikes and wall to wall humanity - our hotel, down a narrow, crooked alleyway in the old cycle market. Do not judge the book by its cover or the hotel by its location. The hotel is clean, our bed comfy, the staff friendly and helpful and the food delicious.

 Esplanade Road - Old Cycle Market

Neil heading towards our hotel - The Tara Palace

Down the alleyway - Hotel balconies above.

 

Views from our balcony.

From our balcony during a storm.



 Views from our rooftop.

Our hotel is positioned between the Red Fort and Jamu Masjid (mosque), both of which we have explored in the last few days. We are also within easy walking distance of Chandi Chowk markets and the metro station. Over the last four days we have set ourselves up with Indian sim cards, purchased an internet stick, conquered the metro and visited a few of the local sites – the fort and mosque as mentioned, India Gate (A World War 1 Memorial), The Rajpath, India National Museum, The Parliament Buildings and the President’s Residence.

Almost forgot – we also got Neil’s reading glasses fixed. He broke the ear end off one of the arms on our last day with Jen and Phil. In Chandi Chowk, just round the corner from where we are staying a kindly fellow searched through boxes of old glasses sound a similar pair, removed those arms and put them on Neil’s. Voila, fixed! $2.

The metro is an underground mass rapid transport system and yes it transports the MASSES. Women have their own carriages and the Station Gestapo make sure that mere males (who probably don’t mind being a bit too close to women) obey the rules. We discovered the women’s only section the first day we rode the metro. We saw our train at the platform as we were descended. We made a mad dash through the closest door and yep, you guessed it. Neil was in the women’s section. Eyes averted he made his  way towards the next carriage, not quite into it as it was packed, but close enough to quieten the offended. As you exit the carriage you say a quick few prayers that the masses are going in the same direction as you because manoeuvring in a contrary direction is impossible.

The Red Fort 

  

Check the scaffolding Daz!

 Inside The Red Fort

Chatta Chowk (covered bazaar) just inside The Lahore Gate at the fort



 Diwan-i-Am (The Hall of Public Audiences)



Diwan-i-Khas (The Hall of Private Audiences)

 

Jama Masjid

 

People watching at the mosque.

 

Just outside the walls of the mosque.

Mongoose not far from where man above was sleeping

Chandi Chowk

Wah Ji Wah - an excellent vegetarian restaurant!

 Light Traffic!

 

At The National Museum

 

India Gate - War Memorial

President's Estate

Looking down Rajpath towards India Gate,

Parliament Buildings to the left and right.

My first thoughts of India (as far as my Delhi experience allows). It’s crowded (understatement of the year). All senses are on high alert. Ears are accosted by constant horn blasts, loud hawkers spruiking their wares and the constant noise of being surrounded by that many people all of the time. Visually it’s demanding, stirring, exciting and confronting. And the aromas wafting with the breeze?  They can be equally exciting and affronting to the olfactory nerves.

29^th July

This morning we had the taxi ride from hell! My fingers tightly clenched the seat for much of the journey and my foot was on the break the whole way (because I was merely the back seat driver that did little good). Today we flew from Delhi to Srinagar in Kashmir. The ride was to the airport in peak hour morning traffic. Not normal peak hour traffic but Delhi peak hour traffic – there is an enormous difference. It was bumper to bumper and horn to horn most of the way. Four designated lanes were totally ignored. The taxi’s brakes and steering had long passed their use by date. The driver continually swigged water from a bottle, hacked those mouthfuls out the window, or the door if we were stationary, and abused all other drivers who ‘rudely’ got in his way. The taxi crabbed and careered across the lanes, often at break-neck speed over short distances when traffic allowed, to then screech to a sudden halt. One of India’s many gods was watching over us this morning – we arrived at the airport in one piece. I could have done with a stiff shot of the good stuff but settled for a strong coffee!