Delhi. Frantic, frustrating, frenetic.

Our very first trip, after becoming nomadic? We jumped in at the deep end – and in 2009 spent seven months in India.

Delhi, with a population of 12.8 million, everyone of them, it seems, on the make, was down right hard work. Tenacious touts pretending to be our best friend, wanting to direct us to places where they would receive commission. Auto rickshaw drivers who refused to turn on the meter, and argued about price and destination.

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‘Is closed today sir, because of festival” said one rickshaw wallah with a waggle of his head when we asked to go to Humayun’s Tomb – even though he’d agreed to take us just two seconds earlier. “Sir – it’s easier to go on the metro”, two helpful guys offered unbidden advice, when we tried another day, to go to the Red Fort – “you must first buy entrance ticket here” – they pointed to our map indicating Connaught Place – on the other side of town, a million miles from where we wanted to be. But our favourite was the driver who claimed his ‘raison d’etre’ was ‘to help tourists’. He wanted to take us to a shop “only looking, five minutes – and then they give me present for my daughter”. We failed to fall for his sob story and he pulled off, saying “as you like”, only to discover, seconds later, a mysterious mechanical fault with his rickshaw. “Bad luck for me, you must find another driver” and with that we were dumped unceremoniously on the tarmac. When we turned round, he’d already disappeared – in search of his next victim.

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We tried not to let it get to us, but it’s wearing. Confounding. Confusing. I felt we prepared to do battle every time we stepped onto the street. And then there’s the heat – temperatures of 30+ degrees. And the dust. Constant and choking. And the press of the traffic, both mechanical and human.

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Old Delhi is astounding. Think biblical and wild west and you might get somewhere close. “I never really believed there were a billion Indians on earth – now I’m beginning to get an inkling it might be true” said Jim as we squeezed through the convoluted winding alleys of the bazaars. Tiny, tiny shops, filled to bursting with goods. Shop-owners sitting cross-legged in the doorway. Stock orderers sorting through piles of wares wrapped in plastic. We walked through Kinari Bazaar, which sells everything a good Indian family might need for a wedding – plumed turbans, sparkling sari borders, rolls of iridescent ribbon, streamers of banknotes – plenty of bling! On and on we went – there was no end to it. Miles and miles of cloth and billowing saris, marigold streamers, green leaves and sweets for Diwali, gaudy posters of Hindu gods and Bollywood filmstars, and all this in an immense swell of people – packed elbow to elbow. We weaved in and out of cycle rickshaws, did our best to avoid scooters, cars and motorbikes and dodged sweating, straining men pulling long wooden hand carts piled high with boxes and sacks. The strain on their faces spoke volumes and they shouted and hoped that a path would clear. In such a crush of humanity this was almost mission impossible. I worried about my feet. Jim worried about his back.

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But Delhi is a city with many faces and New Delhi is a different story. Built as the Imperial capital of India by the British, just thirteen years before the end of British rule in India, the scale of the buildings is impressive. The Rashtrapati Bhavan (formerly the Viceroy’s residence) atop Raisina Hill is imposing, colossal, stately, grand. At Connaught Place we sat in the United Coffee House, with it’s classic 40’s decor, and being typically British ordered a cup of tea. The Lodi Gardens also offered a chance to slow the pace. We strolled amongst ex-pats, and middle class Indian families picnicking and playing cricket.

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Delhi has something to offer, but the jury is still out on whether the reward equals the effort required.

18 thoughts on “Delhi. Frantic, frustrating, frenetic.

  1. Namaste Tracey… I don’t know if I ought to thank you, or not 😉 I’m taking my maiden voyage to India at the end of this month, and while Delhi is not (yet) on my itinerary, I’m feeling a tad wary at the prospect of finding this sense of frenzy, nonsensical haggling and unrelenting noise everywhere go. But oh, how well you’ve helped me to visualize Incredible India!!

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  2. Ha ha! I’m so glad I’ve helped you get a feel for India. Have a great trip. I’m sure there will be moments when it all drives you mad, but there will be many others when it sets your soul on fire, and fills you with sheer bliss. Enjoy. (I’m looking forward to reading your blogs!)

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  3. Your post resonated with me big time! You did a fantastic job relying “the message” of Delhi. People used to say “You either love India or you hate it”. I’m not sure I can pick one or the other. I’ll have to return one day.

    Visiting the country for five weeks, was my first trip outside of Europe. I was 21. And, I refused to get culture shocked. So, I took everything I saw in India as “normal”. For good or bad, it made me extremely tolerant and rarely in shock of anything during my subsequent two decades of travels. 🙂

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    1. I’m with you Liesbet, I loved and hated it both. I would love to return, but am waiting until they make the visa application less complicated. I really admire your attitude of taking everything in your stride. You must be very strong. And as you say, it’s stood you in good stead ever since.

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    1. What a good question! I don’t think there’s anything much that could be done differently. That’s what Delhi is like, that’s what India is like. You’re going to get hassle – unless you have a guide who can shield you somewhat. At one point we did have a car and driver and much to my surprise I enjoyed it, but it’s not a way I’d usually choose to travel. It’s a trade off and I’d always choose freedom and independence. The second time we were in Delhi we did choose a ‘better’ place to stay. This was the first trip we did and I was very money conscious at the beginning, so the first place we stayed was grubby, down an alley that stank of piss. We passed up on that experience the second time! Staying in a place that doesn’t make you cringe, helps you to relax a bit more!

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  4. Delhi ~ was our first entry point into India and at first I was entranced. But eventually, after it got to me. Yup, the love hate relationship is real. The dust, the noise… the haggling are all things that wear me down. Ben on the other hand has interminable energy for all of it and only has a love love relationship with India. Great story telling…..

    Peta

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  5. Love it. Delhi is my hometown and I too have a love-hate relationship with it. New on the blogging bandwagon and just discovered your blog. Great article. Do keep writing more! 🙂

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      1. Hi, I think my previous comment didn’t show my active blog (about culture & Delhi) when you clicked on my name. If you’re interested, please feel free to check out my active blog ‘Syndrome’. I’m sorry and thank you!

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