Posted by: Jonathan
With Khao San road fading away in the rear view mirror, we navigated Bangkok's rush hour traffic to the airport. As the fully loaded shuttle bus screeched to a halt under the International departure sign, two girls jumped out with haste who just so happened to share the same end destination of Delhi as us. Jenn and I looked at each other instantly and said, "it's the Amazing Race!" We spent the next one and a half hours racing the "other team" through multiple check-in counters, security, immigration, and several terminals to our gate (don't judge - it's the little things). With all of this said, I am sad to announce that we lost... and they didn't even know we were racing. I will take a large part of the loss on my shoulders, as I was sidetracked by a store giving out free samples of dried fruit and seasoned rice cakes. They had over twenty different types of dried fruit - come on, how fast can the average person sample them all? Had there really been a million dollars on the line I would like to think I could pass up free samples...but without actually being put in that situation, it is mere speculation at this point.
The sulking over second place ended almost as abruptly as the far sighted pilot finding the tarmac of Delhi's new international terminal. We collected our bags just past midnight and made our way out of the airport searching for our hotel pick up. The cab driver made good time cutting through town (accelerating through red lights etc). After several minutes he cut under an overpass, which is where the landscape took a drastic turn. Now, the landscape wasn't beautiful before by any stretch of the imagination, but what we were speeding through was beyond comprehension, especially in the dead of the night. Trash so deep that you lost sight of the road, cows loitering in the streets, savage packs of dogs fighting over scraps, rats...well them being themselves is enough, people lurking in the shadows, and all of this channeled on both sides by dilapidated buildings with squatters make a home on any flat surface available. As the cab sped through this, I fully expected to explode out of the area onto a tree lined parkway up to the glass doors of our hotel. If only. Instead, the cab shuddered to a stop right in the middle of it. After a few nervous minutes of our cab driver demanding a tip (even before the fare was paid) and us not believing we could be remotely near our hotel room, we navigated several alleys reeking of urine and stepped into the lobby of Hotel New King.
With Khao San road fading away in the rear view mirror, we navigated Bangkok's rush hour traffic to the airport. As the fully loaded shuttle bus screeched to a halt under the International departure sign, two girls jumped out with haste who just so happened to share the same end destination of Delhi as us. Jenn and I looked at each other instantly and said, "it's the Amazing Race!" We spent the next one and a half hours racing the "other team" through multiple check-in counters, security, immigration, and several terminals to our gate (don't judge - it's the little things). With all of this said, I am sad to announce that we lost... and they didn't even know we were racing. I will take a large part of the loss on my shoulders, as I was sidetracked by a store giving out free samples of dried fruit and seasoned rice cakes. They had over twenty different types of dried fruit - come on, how fast can the average person sample them all? Had there really been a million dollars on the line I would like to think I could pass up free samples...but without actually being put in that situation, it is mere speculation at this point.
The sulking over second place ended almost as abruptly as the far sighted pilot finding the tarmac of Delhi's new international terminal. We collected our bags just past midnight and made our way out of the airport searching for our hotel pick up. The cab driver made good time cutting through town (accelerating through red lights etc). After several minutes he cut under an overpass, which is where the landscape took a drastic turn. Now, the landscape wasn't beautiful before by any stretch of the imagination, but what we were speeding through was beyond comprehension, especially in the dead of the night. Trash so deep that you lost sight of the road, cows loitering in the streets, savage packs of dogs fighting over scraps, rats...well them being themselves is enough, people lurking in the shadows, and all of this channeled on both sides by dilapidated buildings with squatters make a home on any flat surface available. As the cab sped through this, I fully expected to explode out of the area onto a tree lined parkway up to the glass doors of our hotel. If only. Instead, the cab shuddered to a stop right in the middle of it. After a few nervous minutes of our cab driver demanding a tip (even before the fare was paid) and us not believing we could be remotely near our hotel room, we navigated several alleys reeking of urine and stepped into the lobby of Hotel New King.
With the overnight bus and long flight we were ready to settle into a comfy bed. Unfortunately, the hotel was overbooked (even though we had already paid for a room in advance online) and after some lame excuses and a free bottle of water we were passed off to another hotel.
The next morning Jenn and I walked back to the original overbooked hotel with our bags since we were told we couldn't stay another night where we were, nor did we want to. The hotel owner again apologized for any inconvenience the night before and offered a free taxi ride to the "Government Run Tourist Information Center" to help us plan our trip. Again, with the run around. The place we were taken to was a shady outfit that tried to get you to book overpriced tourist packages for your entire stay in India. They were using every trick in the sleazy salesman handbook. Imagine the used car salesman that wears a gold chain combined with the atmosphere of a timeshare selling seminar. Only being able to stand sitting through the schpeal for a few minutes, we politely asked to leave and "return tomorrow" once we had figured out how long we would stay in India. Free at last, Free at last - we strolled the streets and soaked in the city and unfortunately, the aromas.
The next morning Jenn and I walked back to the original overbooked hotel with our bags since we were told we couldn't stay another night where we were, nor did we want to. The hotel owner again apologized for any inconvenience the night before and offered a free taxi ride to the "Government Run Tourist Information Center" to help us plan our trip. Again, with the run around. The place we were taken to was a shady outfit that tried to get you to book overpriced tourist packages for your entire stay in India. They were using every trick in the sleazy salesman handbook. Imagine the used car salesman that wears a gold chain combined with the atmosphere of a timeshare selling seminar. Only being able to stand sitting through the schpeal for a few minutes, we politely asked to leave and "return tomorrow" once we had figured out how long we would stay in India. Free at last, Free at last - we strolled the streets and soaked in the city and unfortunately, the aromas.
With a little work we were able to reserve two overnight trains several days apart, giving us two days to finish exploring the city.
Even after leaving the train station we continued to hear the rumble of an approaching train. Whirling around in confusion, we realized it was our stomachs. We hadn't eaten anything in about 24 hours. I ate some Chana Masala with Tandoori Rotis at a local joint. Jenn was turned off from ordering when a rat climbed through the window and onto my seat while I was away using the restroom.
On the way to get Jenn a double egg sandwich we passed several cows in the street, one of which was intent on joining an evening Hindu Prayer session.
After navigating the standstill traffic in the streets we made it back to our hotel completely exhausted.
I might have mentioned this before, but I just want to reiterate three things: cows all up in the streets, trash overflowing everywhere, and the omnipresent smell of urine. In Delhi's defense we later realized that we are staying in what might possibly be the worst part of town.
What I haven't really mentioned is how incredibly friendly the people have been, especially complete strangers that are not involved in tourism. So many people have approached us and spoke with us about various things and then thanked us for speaking with them and left without asking anything of us in return.
Our second full day in Delhi we mastered the metro and rode it to several tourist attractions. Jenn had it much easier using the metro because women have their own line through security and lines to board women only cars. I, however, had to join the macho pushing matches that involved forcing yourself into a car that was already at 400% capacity.
Our second full day in Delhi we mastered the metro and rode it to several tourist attractions. Jenn had it much easier using the metro because women have their own line through security and lines to board women only cars. I, however, had to join the macho pushing matches that involved forcing yourself into a car that was already at 400% capacity.
We spent an hour wandering around the enormous Red Fort and then India's largest mosque, Jama Masjid.
After eating a McDonald's McAloo Tikki sandwich, Veg Pizza McPuff, and two soft serve ice cream sundays (all for under $2), we made our way to Humayun's Tomb.
This was my favorite tourist site of the day as it combined red sandstone and white marble showing the merge of eras and cultures.
Our last big stop of the day was India Gate, a memorial to the Indian soldiers lost fighting for their freedom.
All of the sites have a 25 times markup for tourists (10 rupees for Indian, 250 for Tourist) which hurts especially since it seems none of the money is being reinvested in the sites for upkeep - lame. Only advantage is the tourist line is quite short since not many are willing to pay.
Jenn and I agreed that we enjoyed experiencing the metro and walking the streets more than the sites themselves.
In case you were wondering about our outfits and red marks on our foreheads, the festival of Holi (festival of colors) reaches its climax in a day. So we purchased throw away clothes in case we got got - more on this to come.
That evening we ate at a nice street side eatery before Jenn picked up a Henna tattoo on the way to the room.
In case you were wondering about our outfits and red marks on our foreheads, the festival of Holi (festival of colors) reaches its climax in a day. So we purchased throw away clothes in case we got got - more on this to come.
That evening we ate at a nice street side eatery before Jenn picked up a Henna tattoo on the way to the room.
Yes, there is a guy sitting at our table - normal for cafes with limited seating.
The next morning we awoke to a ruckus in the streets, Holi was well underway. Holi (as I touched on before) is a Hindu festival celebrated at the beginning of spring by throwing colored water and powder on anyone within range. The night before, I purchased a pump water gun, 100 water balloons, and colored powder. Jenn and I quickly armed ourselves and hit the streets. It was madness. Just imagine an entire town having a water fight, a large large town with lots of people. Then change the water to colored water of every shade and add in handfulls of dye and spray foam cans. Even old people joined in by waiting on their roofs with mop buckets full of colored water for an unsuspecting participant to walk below. Jenn gets the sniper award for nailing a dude at 25 plus yards in the face with a water balloon. Ridiculous or out of control barely scratch the surface of describing it.
The several hours that we wandered the streets were backed by several hours of scrubbing - we still bare a few war wounds that won't wash off.
That evening we caught a rickshaw - tuk tuk combo to the Rohillio train station, about 40 minutes outside of town. Upon arriving we found out that our train had been canceled due to strike/demonstrations in some towns between Delhi and our destination. Upset and distraught we caught another taxi for the forty minute journey back into town to go to the train station where we originally purchased the tickets to make sense of things. We were able to get a full refund on the first leg of the journey and two thirds of our money back for the second. Standing in the New Delhi train station with all our bags at eleven o'clock at night with no hotel, no train ticket, and with our itinerary for India in shambles, we decided to retreat into the city to find shelter for the night. We returned to the train station at 6 AM and again at 9 AM before finally catching the 11:30 train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal.
That evening we caught a rickshaw - tuk tuk combo to the Rohillio train station, about 40 minutes outside of town. Upon arriving we found out that our train had been canceled due to strike/demonstrations in some towns between Delhi and our destination. Upset and distraught we caught another taxi for the forty minute journey back into town to go to the train station where we originally purchased the tickets to make sense of things. We were able to get a full refund on the first leg of the journey and two thirds of our money back for the second. Standing in the New Delhi train station with all our bags at eleven o'clock at night with no hotel, no train ticket, and with our itinerary for India in shambles, we decided to retreat into the city to find shelter for the night. We returned to the train station at 6 AM and again at 9 AM before finally catching the 11:30 train to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal.