Incredible India

Delhi, India, 22-23 August 2008

We successfully navigated our way through customs, collected our bags and proceeded to look for our airport pick up guy (from the hotel we had booked and paid for on the internet). Guess what, no sign anywhere. This was the last thing that we needed, 10pm at night entering the mayhem of India for the first time. All we wanted to do was get to our hotel and sleep. To cut a long story short, we took a prepaid taxi into the city where a tourist office official alias local conman found us a hotel. He did ring (not) our original hotel but told us a fabricated story about them not being able to accommodate us. We really didn't care too much because what was certain is that they had not been at the airport to collect us, all we wanted was to secure a clean hotel room for the night. Toursit man found us another place at equal price (where no doubt he obtained a nice amount of commission).

The following morning we both had "sore heads". Word of advice, not the best condition to head out onto the streets of Delhi for the first time. We had no sooner stepped outside the door of our hotel when the barrage of tuk-tuks, rickshaws, beggars, agency touts and "helpful locals" descended upon us. They were tenacious, unrelenting and omnipresent (quote of the day from Claire). One driver in particular was aggressive, jumping out of his rickshaw and preventing us from passing him on the street. This was coupled with the dirt, squalor, filth and smell of the streets. People were urinating on the street, we had to pass piles of excrement and the flies were everywhere (we could not speak for fear of one flying into our mouths). It was a nightmare.

We visited a few local tourist offices to discuss our onward passage from Delhi. Given our experience it didn't take us long to figure out they were trying to rip us off. Then we made our was via the super crammed metro system to the train station to book them ourselves. The guidebook states that there is a special office for "International Tourists" but a local "plain clothes official" tried to convince us that it was no longer there and directed us to the new office. We thanked him politely but made our way to the other end of the station ignoring his advice. We noticed that he was still following us at a distance though. It was here that we saw a sign "Beware of touts who tell you the International Ticket Office has moved". Our helpful friend arrived as we were reading the sign he still contended that he was genuine. He even proceeded to follow us as we approached a uniformed staff who confirmed the office was still indeed at the train station. Only then did he accept he was beaten. In the ticket office we booked 5 train journeys to take us on the Golden Triangle of Delhi-Agra-Jaipur-Delhi before taking us north to Shimla in the foothills of the Himalayas.

During every monetary transaction without exception the locals tried to shortchange us and it became clear we would need to be on our guard ALL THE TIME. With our rain tickets in hand we proceeded to visit the Backpacker Ghetto of Pahar Ganj. Our guidebook stated "Pahar Ganj offers an instant immersion into the chaos into which India is capable, as stray cows & cycle rickshaw's tangle with a throng of pedestrians, hotel touts and salesmen hawking knock off handbags books and cheap clothes.

All we can say is that you really need to see & smell it to believe it! Life is cheap here and unless you keep your wits about you a driver will have no qualms about hitting you and he swerves to avoid a "sacred cow". And what are cows doing in the middle of a mega city anyway? Mayhem, absolute mayhem. By the way, footpaths are non-existent. And talk about rubbish, the city is nothing less than one large municipal dump. We reckon all 14 million of Delhi's residents just chuck their garbage on the street. We knew it would be chaotic but this goes beyond anything we could ever have imagined. And to think we though Bolivia was dirty, Bolivia was positively 1st world compared to this. Having well and truly reached sensory overload we retired to the safety & sanctity of or hotel room. Thankfully there was a good supermarket next to the hotel selling Cadbury chocolate, digestive biscuits, crisps and all manner of other comfort foods. We watched some TV, binged on junk food and were asleep in our bed by 7pm. "Welcome to Incredible India".

The following morning we took a deep breath and dared to face the outside world again. This time however we were feeling much stronger, the hangover was gone and we had a good nights sleep under our belts. We gave ourselves plenty of time to get to the train station which was actually a mistake. We had to hang around with all the oddballs waiting for our train to arrive. We had decided to pay the extra to take a taxi rather than a rickshaw to shelter us somewhat from the dirt & smell however that turned into a circus........ the roads were crazy and our driver crashed as he made the turn into the train station. Both himself and the fellow driver got out the cars and brandished fisty cuffs. It was all a bit scary and I (Claire) recalled the guidebook advice suggesting one should leave the scene as quickly as possible if involved in a car crash because it can turn nasty. We were in the middle of a busy road & had to wrestle our backpacks out the front seat before legging it across to the train station. Aghhh, the hits just keep on coming.

We were shocked by the condition of some of the trains. People were crammed in like cattle. There were bars over the windows where those lucky enough to arrive early could at least get some fresh air, and believe me they would want it... because the smell emanating form the carriages were nothing short of revolting. For our first train journey in India we were travelling 3AC, this was nothing fancy and certainly nothing like that we described above but at least it guaranteed us a seat in an air-conditioned carriage. We were sitting with an American and his Chinese girlfriend. He had spent one year working in India and had decided he would like to become a Buddhist monk. All he needed to do was give up meat, drop the girlfriend and quit smoking. The first two he admitted he would have no problem with but the cigarettes would be a real sticking point! Needless to say this confession was made when his girlfriend was at the toilet. Once she returned the two were like a pair of newlyweds again. Even the most pious of monks have to start somewhere, right? Three hours later we arrived in Agra where we checked into the Shanti Lodge and then caught our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal from the rooftop cafe.