Wednesday 16th - Delhi Old and New

Early start today. It is still raining, not as heavily as last night, but with thunder and lightning. Who said that we wouldn't need brollies. R expects to die shortly as she forgot the warnings and used tap water to clean her teeth. The buffet breakfast has everything that one could desire for breakfast plus a few things that one probably wouldn't. D experiments with some kind of lentil dumpling that would have made a good door stop. By the time we have finished breakfast it has stopped raining.

The metro seems reasonably efficient and excellent value for money. Our 30 minute ride into the city centre costs just over 20p. We arrive at Rajiv Chowk - better known to all and sundry as CP (Connaught Place)and by a sheer fluke find the right exit for the rendezvous with our guide.
Ashem is a final year IT student who hopes to go to the US to train. His first job is to negotiate an autorickshaw to take us round the Lutyens area of New Delhi. First picture shows him striking a deal with the third driver that he tries. The three of us squeeze in and off we go into the traffic. We must be getting numb - it is not as scary as yesterday. In fact its quite a good way to get around if you ignore the blaring horns. Not the greatest mode of transport for sight seeing so you aren't getting a classic view of Lutyens here.
The guide's job is very skilled. When he judges that we cannot take any more vehicular excitement we are whisked by metro to Old Delhi, about 2 miles and 12 centuries away. The buldings are falling down, the roads are full of potholes, there is rubbish everywhere - a lot like Shettleston. We then took a cycle rickshaw ride at which point my camera batteries failed so you do not get to see the next winner of the Tour de France. I hope that he got paid well over the going rate for hauling our blubber laden carcasses around the mean streets.
Our tour promised insights into Indian culture and we certainly got that. Most people spend a lot of time taking off and putting on their shoes and socks. We were no exception as in rapid succession we visited a Jain temple, a Hindu temple dedicated to Shiva the Destroyer and a Sikh Gurdwara. At each we had to remove shoes and socks and make a token gesture of splashing water on our feet. The Jains have naked men wandering about and lots of rice, the Hindus have incense and throw water about while the Sikhs have an (old) boy band and give away free lunches. They all had amazingly decorated temples but did not allow photography.

We moved on from the temples into the old market. The streets were barely eight feet wide and there was a constant traffic of scooters, cycle rickshaws, porters, and idle pedestrians like us. R was highly impressed by the haberdashery shops which took her back to her salad days in Binns on Princes Street, when Edinburgh still had trams. Our tour finished with lunch in a sort of sub-McDonalds curry house where the food was absolutely fine but everything came in plastic trays. We talked to Ashem about food both in India and in the UK. His family eat meat once a week. He was really keen on burgers but R gave him the sort of lecture that she used to give our girls when they were about 9. Somehow I don't think that she has wrecked his American dream.

We parted company with Ashem and were on our own. A quick recce of the main railway station was followed by a stroll through Paharganj, the legendary hippy hideout. We met our first street cow as well as our first serious hustler, a rather well fed and dressed lady with a clipboard who followed us about 500 yards begging for cash then cursing in fluent English. We escaped by autorickshaw and beat a retreat to the hotel where we had tea in the garden on the 12th floor roof and watched the squirrels.
Two days into our hols and it is already time for a major shakeout of the luggage so that we can leave some in Delhi while we visit Rajasthan. By the time this is achieved it is the cocktail hour. More excellent nibbly things with cold Kingfishers. One could get used to this.