Tuesday 27 November 2012

Delights and Delhites


After Agra our next stop was Delhi.

As it happened, our visit coincided with record-high pollution levels.

The smog was so dense you could stare directly into the sun.

As our train entered Delhi, the City appeared to grow out of a smoky haze.

Miles of slums extend beside the railway lines. Children, rubbish
piles and pigs share the tracks.

Hop into a cab and as you head into the affluent epicentre of New Delhi,
the corrugated iron and plastic shelters are replaced by shopping
malls, glass skyscrapers and regal remnants of the British empire.

As the world's third oldest city, Delhi is strewn with history.
Jam-packed with archaeological gold dust.



Forts, mosques, temples, tombs and other monuments. Some of it in ruins,
some dilapidated and some pristine.

Ironically, most of what we saw was in far better condition than the
squalid slums.

Highlights of the sights of Delhi for me were India Gate, a World War II memorial. We wandered through the huge surrounding park where a thousand cricket matches were being played.



The Red Fort is impressively imposing.




I also particularly liked  Khair-ul-Mazair, a 16th century mosque. I popped in to get a photo and aside from one bathing Muslim, I was alone in a courtyard, admiring the ancient, but pristine Arabic architecture.



Now the story gets messy.

Fellow travelers and Lonely Planet warn to watch out for many scams in Delhi.

There are an awful lot of people / lot of awful people
who are very keen to part tourists from their money.



I'll fast-forward to the nitty-gritty as it's the best (and worst)
anecdote I've got about Delhi.

Someone put shit on my shoe.
SOMEONE PUT SHIT ON MY SHOE!

One particular scam I had heard about, and was particularly keen to
avoid, was the old
put-shit-on-someone's-shoe-and-offer-to-clean-it-off-for-money job.

So inevitably when a man, shoe brush in hand, crouched over my feet. I looked down to see a crap (most likely human and of melted snickers
consistency) across the toes of my suede adidas trainer.

I've trodden in my fair share of poo in the past, and am quite
familiar with the concept that it spreads across the point of contact, generally the sole of the foot. This one was artificially placed, there is no doubt of that.

I refused to pay for my shoe to be cleaned and wiped  it on the grass. My rage grew in the following hours and I wished I had returned the turd to its vendor in a violent manner.

Less smelly, though equally annoying, my mate Dave was mis-sold a 16GB USB.
It turned out to be 300kb capacity - not enough to store a
single photo.

Our visit to Delhi Zoo was ill-advised.  Surreally, we four Westerners (admittedly young, good-looking and modest) became the main attraction in the Zoo. At one moment, 40 Indians were pointing their cameras at us 4 caucasians, oblivious to the magnificent lions that our cameras were pointed at. Also, the conditions the animals were kept in were kinda depressing and watching the locals bait them by shouting and throwing litter at them made me yearn for national park safari.



So what of Delhi’s dining? It's said that a good endorsement for a restaurant is if it is busy with the locals. We queued for 20 minutes to get a table at one joint! Though I resisted the 'brain curry', the 'meat curry’ (goat, apparently) was cheap, suitably authentic and tasty.

After the mental battering India had delivered me so far, basing
ourselves in Connaugt Place, a wealthy district, offered a chance for
me to indulge in some 'normality'.

I watched James Bond - Skyfall at the cinema, caught a Liverpool match in a pub and
ate copious amounts of fast food (two McDonalds breakfasts, a Dominos
pizza and a KFC).

I'm aware this makes me a 'bad traveller', but you’ll have to believe me: I needed it.

Poetically, travelling in the land of karma, my greasy diet coupled
with the pollution saw acne return to my face for the first time in
at least 5 years.

My philosophy? Zit happens, sometimes.

I’ll confess, I was feeling quite keen to leave Delhi. On the whole, I’m not sure I had a positive experience there.

Over-priced or not, we paid a hundred quid each (four of us) to hire a chauffeur driven car for a fortnight in Rajahstan.

It seemed worth it.

Onwards and Westwards...

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