Learning the Ropes

I woke in the middle of my first night in Old Delhi and looking up saw a million stars and a crescent moon. This suprised me because I had gone to bed in Room 101 of the Vivek Hotel. a room on the first of three floors distinguished by having no windows, an aircon unit that didnt work and a very noisy overhead fan, but also as I now realised, thousands of luminous stars stuck to the ceiling. If I hadnt been so hot and sticky it would have been magic.

The day began in KL, and the usual transit rituals of checking in, security screens, airline food and eventual passage into the arrival hall at the new Indira Gandhi Airport, spotting the man with my name displayed almost immediately and squeezing into his tiny  van for the trip to Vivek. On the way I saw my first cow, a large white one sitting in the narrow medium strip between four lanes eithert side of  an  horrendously congezted noisey and dusty freeeway. How on earth it got there, and manage to look quite content was beyond me. On reflection the cows have been the particular feature that for me makes this place different from all other such places I have been in the world. 

The heat and dust, the noise, the colour,the beggars, the hustlers, the crowds, the poverty the stink from urinals - where do the women pee?- and the sweet smells from spice stalls and streetfood vendors - these are all here and though distinctly different, distinctly Indian, there is a quality that places like this share everywhere there is such overcrowding and poverty. But nowehere are there cows like these - they appear it seems anywhere and just wander the streets. I stopped to watch several at one busy intersection - one with quite large horns walked up to lick my empty coke bottle, and then wandered on. A man emerged from a stall and tipped a container full of what looked like rice in front of the cow who then licked it up and noved on. People mostly ignored them, and likewise the cows were totally accustomed to all the noise and jostle,which believe me is intense.I have yet to visit and of the "sites" but for njow am just getting used to the place. Theres plenty of time.

For the people trying to get the place tidied up for the games however- and theyre everywhere painting and laying paths, scraping up rubbish and planting shrubs and finishing off raillines and the Airport - its too late. Much is incomplete, and tomorrow the Commonwealth Games begin but I am going to Jaipur. I  spoke to the guy in the hotel travel agency about a train ticket and he wanted me to get a driver and book a freelance tour of the region for three weeks- absolutely everything taken care of, my own driver and personal guide for about $1000. It was tempting because by then I already had experienced the hassles - the extremely frustrating and intensely annoying hassles of trying to get from A to B on my own. And in the 32degree heat. But I had previously decided I would just go from town to town and not be bound to a timetable. So today I decided to try and get a train ticket for myself. The Lonely Planet guide gave explicit instructions to go to the Overseas Tourist Office at the main station, amd not be deflected by anyone  who got in your way no matter what they said so I did just that but there was no such Office on the first floor! A helpful man explained it had just been shifted because of the Games and directed me to a Taxi which would take me to it for 10R which is not nuch so I went. But it was a scam of course. So using the map I walked in the dust and heat from the back street office i had been dumped at and finally found my way to the opposite side of the railline and found the office and got the ticket - its a five hour journey for about 10 dollars - but I think in a cheap and crowded carriage. getting that tickett  sounds simple but it took about three hours. It felt like a minor victory...well no a major one actually. I think I might survive after all!