Standing outside Delhi Airport in short sleeves I took a deep breath of warm air. It is a new airport, they have also built a metro system to and in the city, all since my last visit 11 years ago. Doesn't time fly?
I had forgotten just how the traffic is. The way in to the city of over 17 million in a taxi was like taking part in one of those mad computer games for boy racers; live. The noise of blaring hooters became a din.
After being delivered to my budget hostel, in Pahar Ganj, which has a 90% rating on Hostelworld, at a cost of 3.54 pounds (no pound sign) a day, with en-suite. Cheaper than having the central heating on at home!
Soon I stepped out into my beloved old haunt of Pahar Ganj, an area of Delhi noted for its hippies from around the world, as well as adventurous budget travellers, in an area of narrow, winding streets jammed packed with small shops that spill onto the narrow road. One needs to both alert and quick to avoid the melee of hooting tuk tuks, passenger tricycles, and bullock carts. I assailed by traders, dealers and touts. Little cafes spill out, from where one can watch it all through a pair of sunglasses and a coffee in front of you as the world strolls by. This is all suffused with the smell of incense and urine, the sound of voices and Indian music, and shops full of colourful materials, mispelt signs and dangling cables. (People help themselves to power).
All I had to do was deal with the money makers, followed by obtaining a sim card and then I am ready for the start of my 3-month adventure.
The miller whose business is at the entrance to my hostel
My first meal, a thali, for under three pounds
A material shop in Main Bazaar, Pahar Ganj
The barber is just outside my front door. "Hot towel, sir?'
A view across the street from my accommodation
A delivery of rice to a shop
The school run, for those who can afford it
The school bus
Biscuit producer and retailer
Up market vegetable seller; he works at a higher level than the ground
