Day 3 - Experiencing

Someone described Delhi to me as “less about the sights, more about experiencing the city” and, after a mere fourty-eight hours, that sounds both spot on and a bit of an understatement. “Experiencing the city” can range between the chaos of Dariyaganj and the serenity of the Rajpath, the wealth surrounding the British-commissioned Connaught Place and the poverty evident in Old Delhi or the traditionalism surrounding the sacred sites and the hipness of Hauz Khas. Long story short, there is quite a bit to experience.

We took the subway for the first time today. It is modern, air-conditioned and pretty fast, but unconditionally Indian. A few stops after we got on, a small crowd insisted that they should enter our carriage at exactly the same time as another small crowd was coming out. Had they stood still for ten seconds, the whole transaction would have been pretty straightforward, but this country does not like straightforward - which, at least for a tourist, is more amusing than annoying. A few moments after this, an older gentleman (with an impeccably groomed beard) asked a young child to make room in the priority seats so he could sit down. The kid’s mum immediately began shouting some sort of complaint across and to the rest of the carriage, which lasted the rest of the trip and definitely far beyond the attention span of either the old man or the young child. This episode had me wondering briefly whether my own mother has Indian genes…

Once we got to Central Secretariat, where the main government buildings and the President’s residence are laid out along an impeccably kept boulevard, we were greeted by a group of small children asking us to take their photos.  After overcoming our initial surprise at the request (a product of every child born in Europe after 2000 being an expert at handling an iPhone or iPad and probably taking better pictures than me) it was pretty cool to see they were genuinely excited about the simple prospect of us taking a couple of pictures of them splashing around in a lake - posing as what looked like Ronaldo celebrating a goal, probably unrelated to the fact I was wearing a Portugal national team shirt but pretty funny nonetheless.

A visit to Bangla Sahib, the main Sikh house of worship in the city, and a few annoying tuk-tuk rides later (of the sort where the final price doubles relative to the quote and/or you don’t get to where you want to go) we found ourselves having a late lunch at a rooftop bar in the middle of the Hauz Khas village, a young and hip area near a deer park that definitely left me wanting to go back next time we are in Delhi. As the food was delicious and a few cold Kingfishers were the ideal remedy for the insane temperatures, we got lucky it started raining or we might have missed our 8.30pm train to Varanasi!

Before a mad dash through the early evening traffic to make our train, partly motivated by our intense desire for a cold shower before leaving the hostel, we made it to the Jama Masjid mosque. We went after hearing about the breathtaking view of Old Delhi and ended up having to wear a skirt while walking barefoot in the rain and up the substantial amount of steps required to get to the top of the tower, where there were definitely more people hanging out than floor space available. On the way up, more people and even entire families asked to have their picture taken with us, clearly exotic specimens over here. The view was certainly worth it, especially the angle that shows where Old Delhi meets its New counterpart, but the walk to the mosque ended up being the highlight of the afternoon. Streets bustling with tuk-tuks and rickshaws carrying entire families, fruit stalls being pushed around in the rain, electrical cables everywhere - basically just a lot going on.

I will save a description of this train ride for tomorrow as I am in desperate need of some half-decent sleep, which I do not think the rocking movements of this carriage will facilitate. Wish me luck!

Cheers,
J-Wowww