I made it to Delhi. The airport is quite modern, not at all what I was expecting. The weather was about 3 degrees Celsius, a record low. Unfortunately for me the flight was delayed and my transfer to the hotel did not show. I waited for close to one hour, but by 2am it was clear that my driver was a no-show so I looked around for a taxi. As anticipated, as soon as I walked outside I was asked numerous times if I wanted a taxi by some eager gentlemen. I glanced to the other side of the walkway and noticed the pre-paid taxi stand, the safer bet, so I paid for my taxi, got my voucher and headed to taxi #29. The young man (barely 20 I am sure) loaded my suitcase in the trunk and off we went. The taxi was old, had not heat, and at every speed bump I could feel my seat sink ¼ inch. The driver stopped a few times asking for directions telling me my hotel did not exist. I had to insist that he drive me to the hotel on the voucher, thanked him for his “recommended hotel” and continued to provide him with the hotel address and instructions until it was found. By then it was 3 am. All the lights in the hotel were off. We knocked on the door, and that is when I noticed the reception man and hotel keeper wrapped in blankets on the reception sofa. Turns out they work ridiculous hours and sleep when they can. I walked-in with my suitcase and the reception man informed me that they did not have me registered at that hotel. I again insisted so he called the hotel next door and confirmed I was booked there and off I went. When I got next door, they said they didn’t have me staying there either so they sent me back. I went back to hotel #1, they called a third hotel and confirmed that I had been moved to that hotel. By then I was feeling quite uneasy and too exhausted from the flights to argue. The doorman grabbed my suitcase and escorted me about three blocks to the 3rd hotel. When I got to my room, I was greeted by the smell of moth balls. The room was spacious but had only one small window overlooking the building next door. I vowed to get some incents in the morning and went straight to bed. At 7am I got a call from reception asking if I wanted to order breakfast. At noon I got a second call. I opted to walk around the neighbourhood a bit and found a lovely take-away restaurant that was packed with locals. I ate there most of my week in Delhi.
On day 2, I decided to explore India a bit so I got a tuck-tuck to drive me to a few places. He took me to a tourism place where I booked my tour for the next day, then went to a book shop and got some Chai tea for the two of us. Rocky, the driver, seemed surprised that I had gotten him tea. He said I was the first tourist to ever do that. One for Canada! After that, Rocky took me to a silver shop where I couldn’t help but splurge a bit, and we drove around New Delhi. I returned to the hotel by 6pm with my new favorite take-away food in hand. The next morning, Sam, my driver for the day, arrived at 9:30 am at the hotel. First on my tour list was Gandhi Smriti. This is the site where Gandhi was assassinated in 1948. It has the mansion where Gandhi lived his last 144 days, some of his personal belonging including the watch he was wearing the day he died (it stopped exactly at his time of death) and stone footsteps display his last steps from the mansion window to the garden. There is an expo of Gandhi’s life and work which makes for an interesting read. I was the first person there, likely to the cold weather, so I was able to take my time and wonder the peaceful grounds. I stayed at the site for over an hour and enjoyed the feeling of calmness, peace and quiet. A sanctuary nestled in a bustling city.  |
| Lodi Gardens |
Later that week, I got the experience of a lifetime. I met-up with a friend and eager to explore a bit more, we headed out for the day. We asked an auto-rickshaw to bring us to State Emporium Complex for a little shopping. I can confirm the accuracy of travel books when they say the drivers don’t always bring you to your requested place. Our driver took us to another shop and tried to make us believe it was the State Emporium Complex. Keep in mind this was one shop, a far cry from a complex… He was insisting, as was the guard at the front door, that this was the place we were looking for. Annoyed, we started walking around trying to figure-out where we were. Travel tip #1 in Delhi should be to never take out a map on the street… it is a giant flag for commission opportunities for the locals. Every time someone offered to help with directions, they gave us the wrong directions leading us to another shop and the door keeper pretending to be what we were looking for. After 40 minutes of walking, we finally found it. We headed to the food area first, and then did a little shopping. Later we crossed the street and wondered around Connaught Place, and then both of us felt confident enough to take the Metro to an area called Chandni Chowk. On the way inside the Metro, we had to walk through scanners, get searched, and push our bags in the scanners, just like at the airports. We got our token and crossed over to our platform. It was packed full of people!! At first I thought there was a delay in the subway but it turns out that this is normal. Then the train arrived. What chaos! People started pushing towards the tracks before the train stopped. I have a new-found appreciation for those safety gates that are up until the train is fully stopped. When the doors opened and the gates dropped, the people inside pushed their way out at the same time as we were being pushed in. At one point my feet didn’t touch the ground. I was floating in the crowd, I was being pushed, I was being groped! The men were surprisingly aggressively trying to board the train. I had flashbacks of my first rock concert (Bon Jovi) in the 80’s and being up front by the stage feeling the pressure of hundreds of people behind me pushing to get closer to JBJ. I held my friend’s arm and both of us made it in. Once inside, we thought this was quite funny until we noticed the weird looks we were getting. Then, a few men told us “the women’s cart is in the front”. OUPS! That travel tip was not in my travel book!! We were stuck there, unable to move through the crowd of men. Some men were giving us disapproving looks, some looked straight through us, but most of them made light of it and smiled. The horror on our faces when we realized we were in a “men only” cart must have been quite the sight.
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| Streets of Chandni Chowk |
It’s a good thing we only had two stops to go. To make sure we could get off at our stop on time, at the first stop we slowly pushed our way towards the door, strategically placing ourselves so that we could exit at the next stop (well, it is more like push our way out). And that we did. The doors at Chandni Chowk opened and we managed to push our way out of the train and walked away from the platform without letting go of each-other’s arm. Once safely outside, we broke into ridiculous laughter. I was thankful that she was there with me for this metro ride. On the way back, we took the women only cart (1st cart of the train) which was much more civilized.
The next morning, as I finished a load of laundry, I was given half an hour to pack my belongings and transfer hotel. I was to head back to my original hotel to meet my travel group so I packed the wet stuff in one bag; the rest in the other and off I went. When I arrived to my room, I asked for the heater to be connected (special outlet had to be turned on) and they said it would cost $300 Rupees. Turns out this was charged only for guests on the tour group, because my friend did not have to pay for her heater. As a matter of principle, I refused and asked for extra blankets. Then I proceeded to remove the heater from the corner outlet and connected it to the refrigerator outlet, which was the same heavy-duty outlet. It worked! Now my laundry was drying. I kept the door locked at all times and made sure to place the heater back in its place before leaving Delhi for a two week tour of Rajasthan.
Below is a clip of the auto-rickshaw ride in Delhi. There is an advertising campaign on the streets with the caption "Lane driving is safe driving".
