Delhi Dallying

Landing in Delhi around 1 am, I collected the two boxes containing my bike and gear and sat to await the dawn. I got talking to a friendly Iraqi doctor, and after some time my ex-comrade Charlie, who by chance had flown from Mashaad the same day, walked right by us. It was nice to see him again, and after he'd collected his luggage he went to sleep on the floor. I kept watch, eating too many of his Iranian banana biscuits, and eventually the sun rose.

We assembled the bikes in a corner of the airport, and then went out to see, and find some breakfast. Within a nearby, developing part of the airport campus we saw tents, housing workers presumably, and we found a guy selling Chai from a tiny stall, and had a couple of cups each. The ground was covered in litter, and men pissed freely wherever they pleased. Stray dogs roamed, but noticeably more timid than those I remembered from earlier in the voyage.

We returned to the terminal to meet James, a friend of Charlie's from the UK, and whilst I was waiting for them to assemble James' bike, a couple of security guards I was chatting with offered to take me to lunch in the local canteen. I was starving, and couldn't believe how cheap the delicious meal, of samosas, chapati and lentils, was.

Had I complained the drivers' honking in Turkey was bad? In India horns are used constantly by most drivers, possibly to avoid accidents because the driving is somewhat erratic. We all rode towards New Delhi, and I got directions to my Couchsurfing host from a soldier, one among many who stood at 100 m intervals along the roadside. Charlie & James went on to the British embassy, where they were billeted thanks to some connections in high places.

My host was apparently a very wealthy man, and had a Nepalese servant and an enormous, luxury apartment. He had strong views on the superior work ethic of the Indian people, and assured me that the West was in decline, mostly due to its social welfare programmes (or 'Socialism', as he termed it). He was not much given to listening and so I simply nodded and smiled for the most part.

The next day I cycled into the centre and found India Gate, an impressive arch surrounded by a large park, itself resting in the centre of an enormous gyratory. I sat on the grass a while and made some sandwiches, watching the families and chai vendors. Then I went towards Connaught Place, the epicentre of New Delhi. I was shocked to see the many crumbling skeletons of tower blocks that lined the CBD roadside, giving the area a post-apocalyptic feel. Nestled amongst them, though, were much newer buildings in pristine condition.

I explored the area in my usual haphazard way and quickly got used to the traffic, looking over my shoulder often and riding very defensively.

My Couchsurfing time was soon up, but still wanting to see more of Delhi, I checked into a hotel in Pahar Ganj, the backpacker's region of the city. I found restaurants serving 4 roti, a half-serving of rice, lentils, pickle and 2 other vegetable dishes for 30 rupees (US $0.60). And the next day I was not even ill from it, so I went back each day after that.

I began to get used to the smog, the rubbish, the stench of urine, the motorbikes and auto-rickshaws beeping as they passed with scant little clearance. I never came to know my way round the labyrinthine alleys of Pahar Ganj, but it was fun to get a little lost sometimes. Everywhere you go, India abounds with life, and colour.

Apart from a little trepidation about what I would find outside the city, I also had several objectives I wanted to achieve before leaving Delhi. Over the next days, I picked up a cotton mosquito net, mosquito repellant, sanitary handwash and a new phone charger. The net I picked up for 400 rupees (US $8), but I think I should have bought the tiny pack version I was offered at 1,000 rupees instead.

Eventually I ran out of excuses to postpone leaving Delhi and venture out, and finally I set off out of town on the road to Agra in the noonday sun.