India, the land where time has stood still

Due to the fact that I have turned off my brain while traveling and have no desire to write at this time, I decided to share with you all the insightful ramblings of my traveling partner Andrew Oska.  Truth is I might have a slightly different perspective on a few items, but I can’t begin to tell the story with the humor that his writing imbues.  So enjoy and maybe by week two I’ll feel like writing again!

Howdy all,

A big, paneer-filled welcome to you all.  The trip to
Delhi was approximately 30-hours after you factor in
the lay-overs, delays, etc.  Needless to say, we felt
much refreshed on arrival in Delhi, the city that
never stops honking.  I would suspect that equates to
looking like a 20-Rupee bill that’s seen it’s fair
share of days with a cycle-wallah.

To be fair, arrival was actually quite painless, and I
suspect that the brief interlude in the Dubai airport
set me up for some disappointment… I mean, how can
you go wrong with 4-foot tall urinals??  These bad
boys could handle pretty well anything you, or your
ogre-sized buddy, could throw at ‘em.  The porcelain
gods were pleased.  But enough about those particular
facilities… Otherwise, the place was sparkling
clean, well organized, and even offered reclining
chairs for waiting passengers.  So, after spending a
few hours there, arrival at the Delhi airport had no
chance of going anywhere but down, though I would
suspect that to be the case for many an airport
throughout the world.

Outside of a deep misunderstanding on what a queue is
(one guide book described it as ranging from somewhat
organized to a mosh pit), the whole process of
entering the country proved to be quite easy.  We were
even happily surprised to find that the pre-arranged
airport pickup was still there, waiting for us even
though the final flight was delayed by two hours.  We
hoofed it to his, shall we say, Yugo-like car (a TaTa
something) and proceeded to place our collective lives
in the hands of fate as we tackled the Delhi traffic.
Cows, rickshaws, bikes, trucks… you name it, all
competing for space on the road.  I haven’t seen this
kind of chaos since Vietnam, but you have to respect
any place that can place 5 lanes of traffic, in 3
lanes of roadway.  If you feel a need to invest in
something, anything manufacturing air-horns will do
well in India.

With a name like “Hotel Legend International”, you
could suspect that we would be in for a treat.  I
haven’t seen humility like that in a while, so it was
with some trepidation that I approached my first
hotel… and, well, it didn’t exactly live up to the
name, but was passable.  It probably doesn’t help that
it’s location is in the Paharganj area of Delhi.
Convenient, yes, and even passably clean… which is
definitely something when you look around you on the
streets.

Delhi, and India in general thus far, defies
description.  It is loud, busy, and definitely not
what one could consider as sanitary; there is that
pervasive aroma of stale urine (with fresh doses being
added most anywhere, anytime by all kinds of folks,
and not just at the open air public bathrooms); there
is excrement, both human and animal; there are strange
smears of an unknown and dubious nature on walls and
floors; and there is air and noise pollution on a
massive scale.  A lot of it looks like it has simply
remained unchanged since the British left, or rather,
never really changed except for absolutely necessary
maintenance.  Some areas still sport furniture from
that time… or at least that is what it looks and
smells like.  Don’t get me wrong - I am not trying to
be negative on the experience, but just giving you the
raw perspective from a perspective based on western
standards.  All told, I have to admit major culture
shock.

The streets grow a little quieter after midnight, but
the honking of horns never really stops.  So it was
that between the noise outside, and the 12.5 hour time
change, I was awake fairly early the next day.  On the
order of 03:00 early.  On tap was making onwards
arrangements - travel to Agra, home of the
world-famous Taj Mahal, and to take in some sights
here in Delhi.

The train station was one of those places that looked
like a movie set from the 50’s, but all told worked
quite well.  Having fended off legions of touts,
offers of guides, rides (do all tourists need a ride
to go anywhere??), all manner of inquisitive questions
on where I am from, how long I’ve been here, where I
am going, what I think of , and
dozens of other questions of that nature, we managed
to arrange first-class train tickets to Agra for
tomorrow morning.  Next up, defying death on the
streets of Delhi on a cycle-rickshaw.

Yes, we decided to put our lives in the hands of a
rickshaw-wallah, and get a lift down to Lal Quila,
also known as the Red Fort of Delhi.  The driver of
the contraption nodded knowingly, and promptly got
lost.  No, Connaught Place isn’t Red Fort.  Okay, find
a local who can communicate the difference… and yes,
it’s time to hit some major traffic arteries on a
3-seater bicycle.  Merges with other roadways, and
traffic circles in particular, quickly shaved a few
years off of my life.  The fact that we didn’t witness
a single accident is a testament to the awareness and
luck of all the multitudes of drivers sharing the
roadways have.  However, after today I have little
incentive to ever try that particular method of
tempting fate again.

Happily, the Red Fort, while not quite amazing,
allowed for some peace and quiet.  Not a lot, but
some.  Hordes of kids, and locals still abounded, and
still exhibited an amazing ability to stare at us like
we’d had just sprouted an extra head and tail.  It was
however a taste of peace, and some of the stone work
was quite nice.  Exit left, into the fray… look at
the Jama Masjid, and opt for lunch instead.

Okay, if there is one thing I can recommend, a
singular reason for visiting Delhi, it’s “Karim’s”.
For just under $9, we ate some of the most incredible
Indian fare I have ever tasted.  Seriously, it was
just two dishes and paranthas… but so heavy, so
incredibly delicious, that it was almost enough to
break down and simply stay there.  Not exactly an
option, but you get the picture.  There was no need,
nor desire, to eat anything for the remainder of the
day.

A tour of Old Delhi by cycle-rickshaw followed, down
narrow winding roads that actually were human traffic
jams.  Amazing.  Almost as amazing, was the electrical
work that we were witnessing… it was like some vine
that had sprouted across walls, between poles, and
then multiplied prodigiously.  How it is that people
don’t get fried on a daily basis I don’t know, but it
certainly explains the frequent power outages!

Minor annoyance and major rip-off later, and we were
back at the hotel, getting ready for tomorrow’s early
departure to Agra.  So, what to make of Delhi?  Busy,
grungy, and noisy… I can’t say that it’s a place I
would want to re-visit, but there are
diamonds-in-the-rough, that much is certain… and it
makes for a hell of a introduction to India.

To be continued in “Enter the Taj...”

Posted on January 23, 2009 at 9:54 AM

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Thanks for your information. I’m planning to visit Mumbai next month. Certainly will use this info for my trip.

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