A bad start in Delhi, better by Deeg

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Our first 12 hours in India would not exactly have sold the idea of an Indian holiday to anyone who’d not already been there. After a comfortable and uneventful flight we landed in Delhi at 1.20am. We made our customary charge off the plane in an effort to reach immigration before it got too crowded and were delighted to find a short queue for business and first class passengers. Sadly, once we reached the desk, we were told that because we had e-visas we had to go to the desks at the far end of the hall. There, the queue was inevitably longer, as each person had to photographed and give a full set of electronic fingerprints. This caused great confusion to the plane load of Chinese tourists who had landed just before us!

Our suitcases were pretty much the last ones to arrive on the carousel, but arrive they did. Nobody cared about seeing our customs forms so we went through to scan the long line of drivers holding up signs. None with our name. Oh dear, we thought. Next stop the Citibank ATM machine, which did not tell you how much you could take out in a single transaction, necessitating many attempts. As David battled with that, Sara returned to scan the line of drivers. Still no sing with our name on. So she went outside where, to her relief, our driver Vicky was waving a sign. She explained David was still inside and went back to fetch him. ‘No entry, no entry’ shouted the solider guarding the gate. ‘But my husband is still inside and can’t see me’. ‘No entry’. Cue for tactical outbreak of tears. The solider took pity and went indoors to find David.

Much relieved, we piled into a virtually brand new Toyota Innova, the standard tourist vehicle, looking forward to getting some sleep. After ten minutes or so, Vicky found his way down a small alleyway blocked by a lorry which refused to budge. ‘No matter, I have a sat nav’ he announced triumphantly. This sounded like excellent news for the drives to come. Alas, the satnav did not realise that most of the ‘roads’ it was sending us down were in fact tiny alleys which got smaller and smaller. Eventually it gave up and instructed him to make a U turn, which was easier said than done. With a horrible grinding sound as brand new paintwork was scraped off the Toyota, Vicky somehow manoeuvred the vehicle out and after another ten minutes we were back where we’d started. The good reviews on booking.com for the Hotel Aeroporto were sadly misplaced. The room was clean. Tick. Hot water – not at that time of night. The lad from reception returned proudly with a heater in case we got cold. It was the biggest fire hazard imaginable! The front was falling away from the back and the bare wires going into the plug were – just – held together with gaffer tape. We unplugged it, cleaned our teeth and got into bed. At this point we discovered three things. There was what seemed to be an arc light right outside our window, which shone brightly through the skimpy blind. We got out our eyeshades from the plane and donned them. However, no earplug in the world could keep out the sound of the neighbourhood dogs, who were highly exercised about something, or the sound of the incoming planes flying over at about 100 feet off the ground. It was a bad night’s sleep.

Next morning there was at least trickle of hot water from the shower. We washed and went down to breakfast, served in a soulless room with damp patches over the wall. We each had a small bowl of chick pea curry with a paratha and a cup of chai, with half a banana. As we sat glumly, the Austrian couple who had also been dining came over and assured us the rest of our trip would be better.

Then began the battle to get out of Delhi. We set off at a deceptively reasonable speed but were soon mired down on the Delhi traffic, with plenty of time to note that the smog really is as bad as the BBC had been telling us. We drove non stop for five and half hours before arriving at Deeg, two hours of which was clearing Delhi. It takes a few hours to settle back into the chaos that is India, the people, all busying about doing something unless they are just laying about listlessly watching the world go by, the sugar cane overloading the lorries, the markets at the roadside, cows wandering the highway, rubbish everywhere, the smell, the noise, the dust.......David's favourite new sight on this drive were humble dwellings built of cowshit. Making cowshit pancakes for fuel is clearly big business around those parts, and some people go further and built their entire home out of it....nice place to live.

Anyway, to Deeg. It has a fort dating from the 18^th century which is largely ruined and we did not have time to visit as time was passing. So we made for the Water Palace, built by the Jat kings of Bharatpur as their summer palace, where they made great use of water features both for their own pleasure but also to keep themselves cool when the climate was unbearable. Quite an impressive place, but now though protected and maintained, somewhat run down.



Then a drive in the gathering gloom amongst the throngs heading home to Bharatpur and a very pleasant former hunting lodge now turned into a hotel.

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Comments

[Keep Smiling]

Home sweet home!
I think the 'house built of shit' was actually a 'house built of shit to hold shit pancakes'!