The eight cities of Delhi

After a great journey where not a single person was interested in my hand luggage (you may need to see my first post on Italy to understand that!) we have arrived and first impressions were great. We have never got off a plane and walked straight through immigration without having to queue. Arrivals gave some clue as to the draw of the city – there were so many people with name boards we missed the one holding ours. Clearly we found them eventually as we seem to be in a very lovely hotel.

It wouldn’t have been an Isaacs holiday if we hadn’t fallen for something (aka been off) within the first 24 hours. Having checked in on Thursday morning we were brave and went out for a walk. We knew our destination, and never got there. Within two minutes of leaving the hotel we met what we thought was a nice man, probably the same age as us, who decided to show us how to cross the road given the crazy traffic. He worked in the huge bank across the road and proceeded to “help us” by negotiating us a great deal on a Tuk tuk and suggesting that to get in the spirit of Diwali we should buy some Indian clothes. Being good sports we agreed. Naturally he suggested a place that he assured us was a government shop and so cheap. The Tuk tuk took us to the shop, waited for us and brought us back. We were very proud that whilst got some great clothes for Diwali which we never intended to buy and which we will probably never wear again, we resisted the hard sell on the jewellery, rugs, paintings and other assorted “arts and crafts”. That night we realised what a great deal he negotiated with the Tuk tuk driver when we spent 5 times that amount on the same journey that evening to a restaurant and back. However the next day our guide shattered our illusions and told us that was the only good deal. The store is most likely owned by his family as it’s certainly not a government store. Epic fail again there Mr and Mrs I.

This is being written at the end of our four days in Delhi and each day has brought something new, and to be honest cemented my feeling of ignorance about the city and the country. Friday was spent learning about the ancient history of Delhi and visiting the Red Fort, Humayun’s tomb and Qutub Minir, each with their associated buildings. Interesting to note that even in the 1500s a good haircut was appreciated as Humayun built a separate tomb for his barber, and getting her priorities right his wife built one for her jeweller! All of these sites are related to the 800 years of Islamic rule prior to the British in 1911. Ironically the first city of Delhi (Qutub Minir) and the third city (Hauz Khas) is in New Delhi (the eight city) and the “newer” seventh city is in Old Delhi. We have always thought of India as a Hindu country and never appreciated that virtually all the historical sites of note in the North at least are related to Islam. We did visit the most beautiful Sikh temple which was ornate and despite being busy both with prayers and as a hub for community service, was very peaceful. I also reflected how little I know of other religions as our guide expertly pointed out the differences and similarities amongst all religions including Jainism.

After the old on to the new. The following day we walked along the whole length of the Kartavya Path from the War memorial and India Gate to the President’s palace. And if that wasn’t enough then on to the Lodi Gardens. The war memorial with their “unknown” soldier saluting the India Gate, and the surrounding gardens and walls of names a beautiful and fitting tribute. The Kartavya Path was a breath of fresh air in more ways than one. Friday was grey and gloomy because of the weather, rain and poor air quality and Saturday was clear blue skies, sunshine and 27C. Walk anywhere in Delhi and you are pestered by tuk tuk drivers, but not along this path. We were uninterrupted the whole time. The Lodi Gardens were tranquil and again is a nod to northern India’s Islamic history with their own mosque dating to the 15th Century. However we did become something of the star attraction being the only Caucasians there. Numerous people came up to us to ask if they could have their photograph taken with us. We’d read about this before coming to India and it had happened the day before at the Red Fort but our guide limited it and protected us. We were on our own this time. To be fair everyone was very friendly, polite and respectful of us, even when we’d had enough!

Today was spent in the old city in the market of Chandni Chowk. We had briefly visited a tiny section of the market on Friday as they were gearing up for Diwali which is today. We were warned that much of it would be closed today, but if that is quiet then I’d hate to see it busy. I have never seen so many marigolds, with their yellows and oranges being the colour for Diwali. We met some great characters which hopefully I’ve captured in some of my photos. Whilst the guide on Friday bought the buildings alive with the medieval Islamic history, our guide today bought the traditions (see if you can spot the iron in the photos) and families of the market alive with their personal stories. Having said all that, the noise and the smells were very much alive – as were the inevitable cows and monkeys. See if you can spot the monkey sitting on the typical Indian electrical wiring “bundle”.

Being Diwali today we were dressed appropriately and we went to a family home for a typical lunch. Behind a very non-descript door in the middle of the market lay the most beautiful tardis of 17 rooms with 58 doors on three levels. The host then epitomised our guide’s stories about the families of the market when he explained how it took him 15 years to legally become the sole owner of this family property. Of course the food was fabulous and we were taught how to eat it, what goes with rice and what goes with bread. Previously we’d just kind of gobbled it any way and all together. Now we dress like Indians we have to eat like Indians!

With a population of 22 million, yes that’s right Delhi alone has a third of the population of the UK, so you would expect some traffic. So I’m going to say this – it’s Vietnam all over again, but on steroids. There are more cars than scooters/motor bikes which is the opposite to Vietnam and there is some respect for traffic lights. Other than that – there are no such things as lanes, there is just road surface to occupy and they just dive in and go for it. The louder the horn, the more right you have to that square inch of road space. It’s like the start of whacky races when the count down to the green light gets to 2 seconds – cars, motor bikes and tuktuks hooting and just swarming and diving into space. And yes if you want, particularly if on a bicycle or motor bike, drive on the wrong side of the road if that suits you. We’ve given up on tuk tuks. We thought we were clever, our guides just said we were crazy. As Uber’s tend to cost the same we’ve been sticking to them to get about.

So as I type this listening to the longest and loudest firework display ever I reflect on our time in Delhi. There is a huge contrast between the rich and the poor. Delhi is not alone, but it is more visible here. Walking through some areas of New Delhi to the Lodi Gardens past huge mansions with guard towers and armed guards, and then seeing people living on the streets and children begging at traffic lights. It does tug at your conscience. There is also a vibrancy about the place. It’s not just about critical mass – the number of people, the amount of traffic, the colours and noise. It’s about the way they span and still live all the cultures and traditions of the last few hundred years with feet still in the 21st century. It’s like nowhere I’ve ever been before. It was so full on, I completely forgot to look for a fridge magnet!