Today we flew to Delhi through SpiceJet airlines, as planned, and are staying at Hotel Amax Inn for the next 5 nights. Our travels to Delhi were nearly as exciting as our first few hours exploring Delhi.
Our morning started off with the final tidbits of packing, keeping in mind the limitations placed on airline luggage, followed by going downstairs to say goodbye to Swathi's grandparents.
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| fully loaded |
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| Swathi and "Dada" |
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| Swathi and "Ammama" |
Mohan and Shoba were kind enough to take us to the airport, so we loaded the car and pulled away from the house. We were going in a Ford Ikon, the same car which Mohan used to picked us up when we arrived in Hyderabad. Driving to the airport had the usual excitement as we worked our way through the chaotic streets, past the Buddha Statue, and onto the airport flyover (for the Americans: "long, direct overpass"). The traffic and roads here are so different from what is in the U.S. or even in Bangalore or Delhi. It seems the further north we travel, the more sane is the traffic. It seems like people will pack onto or into whatever means of transportation available to them, regardless of how many open seats are there. Likewise, traffic seems to flow like water, rushing into open spaces with little regard for oncoming traffic.
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| 5 on a bike! |
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| how many people are riding in this truck? |
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| bloop, bloop! |
At the airport, Swathi's parents escorted us to the entrance and we said our goodbyes. After getting our boarding passes and going through separate security lanes (one for gents, one for ladies), we discovered we were hungry, with plenty of time to spare before we had to load onto the plane. We found a food place and ate idli (white fluffy rice thing) sambar (brown curry) vada (brown fried thing, like an unsweet doughnut) and coconut chutney (white curry). Once we had eaten our fill of Idli, we boarded the plane.
Two hours later, we arrived in Delhi and found a government prepaid taxi service to take us to the hotel. The difference in the roads to those of Hyderabad was immediately evident. The roads were wide and smooth, only fitting for the capital of India. There was hardly any traffic most of the way, and drivers actually stayed in their own lanes! The taxi we got was a black, narrow mini van without A/C. It was a fairly long drive from the airport, and when we reached the road the hotel was on, the driver did not know where our hotel was. We drove slowly and finally found a sign pointing down an alley where another sign was hanging which said "Hotel Amax Inn, recommended by Lonely Planet".
At the hotel, the staff had us sign a registry book, took photocopies of our identification, then gave us the key to room 107. The room was fantastically clean, the staff were on call 24 hours a day for room service, and the air conditioning worked well enough. The not-so-gentle hum of the fan and clanking noises of the compressor switching on were barely noticeable. The only thing we didn't particularly like was how the WiFi only worked in the lobby, where there was no air conditioning.
We quickly lost interest in looking at the walls and checked Google Maps to see what was nearby. There's a subway station less than a kilometer away, so we off-loaded our gear and went out, intending to see what it cost and how it worked. We didn't have anywhere in particular to go, and we were too tired to do any real touring, so we thought that doing some shopping would be a good start. Shopping for what, you ask? We didn't know yet.
The path we took led us down a couple of roads, then over a long bridge which had a precarious walkway on the north side which at one time might have been wide enough for two people to walk abreast but was now suitable only for single-file travel. The upturned flagstones and missing sections of railing made it difficult for bi-directional travel, and we were often blocked by pedestrians coming from the opposite direction. This didn't stop me from snapping a few pictures along the way.
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| These boys were on Arakashan Rd; I stopped to take their picture and they were more than happy to pose. When I was finished, they said "that will be 20 rupees, please." |
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| view of Chelmsford Rd from the bridge |
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| New Delhi Rail Station, as seen from the DB Gupta Road bridge |
When we made it over the bridge and across the road, we began looking for the entrance to the metro station. I knew it would be underground, but all we could see were dozens of bicycle rickshaw drivers and street vendors. Behind this mob, there was a shady-looking alleyway where a lot of people were entering and exiting. "That's it!" I said, and led Swathi into the darkness, down a staircase, and into the New Delhi metro station!
After studying the map, we purchased two tokens, a total of ₹22, which would cover our fare to the Rajiv Chowk station, where there is an underground shopping mall. Before we could go to the platform, we had to submit to additional security screening. Swathi stood in the line for ladies and was behind only one other woman when she entered the line, passing through without difficulty. I stood in the line for gents with about 30 other men, keeping one hand on the pocket holding my wallet, and one hand on my camera. This was another typical Indian queue and I got through with only some difficulty.
Once cleared, we touched the tokens on the sensor and the gate let us pass through to the lower level where the platform is. Coming down the escalator, I was astonished at the male to female ratio on the platform; there were easily 200 men and only about 5 women. This is the tangible result of the femicide practiced here over the last 50 years. With such odds against the male population when it comes to finding a partner, it was very easy to see the source of desperation which leads to the frequent sexual assaults and rape in this city. It made me feel sick. With my left hand, I held Swathi's hand tighter, and with my right, I more firmly gripped my camera. If it came down to it, my Canon 5D would be hefty enough to be an adequate bludgeoning device. I would do anything to protect her.
Among the crowd of men, we were faced with two platforms, each set to board trains running on parallel tracks. The signs were confusing so we took a guess and boarded a train. We guessed right. One stop later, we disembarked at Rajiv Chowk station. The layout of the station was different than the New Delhi station, and was much larger because it was an interchange between different subway lines. Eventually we found the exit, put our tokens in the receptacle and were allowed to leave. Coming back to the surface, I felt like a prairie dog poking his head above ground and blinking at the forgotten natural light of the sun. The air was fresh and clean, we were in a strange place, and suddenly a whiff of the scent of urine brought me back to my senses and I remembered where I was. Welcome to Rajiv Chowk.
Looking around, there were more food vendors on the sidewalk surrounding us and short buildings formed an uneven wall around a large mound of grass in the center, which rose above our heads like an unholy stupa. At the top of the mound there was a small entranceway to Palika Bazaar, the network of subterranean shops we heard of. The entranceway had a guard and his metal detector waiting to greet us. He told me that photography inside the complex was forbidden, though I was tempted to disobey.
The shops were set along the edges of concentric circles, the inner circle about 100 meters in diameter. Passageways connected the different circles together, and there were multiple levels.
There were small stores selling mostly electronics and clothing. Everywhere we walked, shopkeepers were trying to get our attention, waving belts or sunglasses in our faces, telling us about the amazing deals they supposedly had. By this time, Swathi decided that she wanted to purchase a small flashlight that we could carry and use while we were in Delhi.
We were on a mission and started asking the electronics dealers to show us what flashlights they carried in stock. Most of the items we saw were very cheaply made and probably would have broken after the first few uses. After seeing these identical items at three different stores, I was getting skeptical that we would succeed. Finally, we found a shop which carried a small black aluminum flashlight with a rechargeable battery and LED bulb. This was what we were looking for, but the price was wrong. The shopkeeper was asking ₹1150 for something which we thought was worth less than half that amount. We balked and went to walk out of the store when the shopkeeper lowered his price, "for you, I will sell it for ₹1000." At this, I turned and offered ₹500. He looked at me scornfully and said that was much too low. He went on to show us the merits of owning such a marvelous piece of technology. "Look how bright this is! Look, it has a blink function! I cannot possibly go lower than ₹1000, and only for you." I counter-offered with ₹650 and his face softened, but only slightly. I took Swathi by the hand and started to walk away when he accepted my offer of ₹650. We are the proud new owners of a hard-haggled flashlight.
When we had enough of the shops, we went back above ground and saw that it was now night. We found the entrance to the metro station and went down to stand in the queue for the information desk where we could buy the tokens we needed to get back to the New Delhi station. The lines were long and surprisingly orderly, for an Indian queue, but were moving very slowly. I was approached by a person who works for the station and she gave me some information regarding a "Smart Card" which was a rechargeable and refundable pass loaded to ₹100. We could skip the queue, and since we were now planning on using the metro regularly, it was a good idea to pick one up. Swathi and I each got our cards and were quickly on our way back to the hotel.
Emerging from the New Delhi station, we tried getting an auto which would take us back to the hotel, but none would take us there for less than ₹150, which was by far a ripoff. Had the drivers gone by the flag drop rate, even with the 25% extra night fee, it should not have been more than ₹30. We decided to walk.
The road leading up to the Hotel Amax Inn contains almost nothing but hotels. There is the occasional shop or pharmacy, but I never noticed just how many hotels there were until we came back at night and all the signs were illuminated.
We tried out the room service and each had the vegetable thali for dinner, which was utterly delicious.
