Suitcase bomb, Cattle class, Huge fortress

The beginning to the trip was standard.  Father and I went through the routine of airports, plane trips and customs.  We live in the future so I won’t extrapolate this segment of the trip as you all know the what happens.  We arrived in Delhi international at 2:30am and quickly caught an, in hindsight, expensive taxi to the innards of the city of 13 million.  According to my guide, Paharanj was a happening place so we made a beeline there.  We got out of the taxi to a dark ten metre wide street with large piles of rubbish and street sleepers galore.  I took the lead and we navigated the rather scary road without trouble, until we found a hotel, Vivek.  Of course we chose air conditioning as it was cheap regardless and we were soft.

In the morning (same day) four hours later, my dad looked out the window to the same street in the daylight.  Asking him what he saw, he responded: “The Apocalypse”.  Yes, it was quite chaotic and it was quite the shock to the senses to see how everything so chaotic yet still organised somehow, functioned especially with two green westerners in the midst.

Naturally we went straight to the rail station nearby to book ticket straight out of Delhi, and were promptly given the run around by a quite official looking tout who took us to the ticket agent of his choosing where we booked our itinery for the first month of the trip.  We likely paid more than we would have at the official station kiosk, but it was good to have it all done in a few hours.  The agent also threw in a driver for us to show us around the city for the day, but really, this was a minimum security jail term, as we basically had to do as the driver told us until our train to Jodhpur at 9pm that night.  We of course were worried about the legitimacy of our ticket agent and the fact our packs were in the boot of the driver’s cab, who could abscond at any moment so the whole day we had our suspicions.

Babu the driver deposited us at a linen and sari market where my father was quickly suckered in to buying two (rather nice actually) saris.  As we were leaving, a rainstorm arrived, shortly followed by a resounding boom.  We had no idea what it was and chalked it up to India.  Later that evening we learned it was a suitcase bomb detonated outside the high courts which were close by, and twelve people were dead.

With a sigh of relief we boarded our third class rickety sleeper train bound for Jodhpur, a semi-arid desert city.  Arriving at a respectable hour this time we were assured of ourselves, and thought we’d have no trouble.  Then we found that I had left the guidebook in Babu’s car.  My dad went a ghost shade of white and was rather worried at our chances as delicious tourists in this dog eat dog country but luckily this same country has markets where literally anything can be found.  The first shop I entered had a copy of Lonely Planet India in English like it was nothing.

The hotel was terrific and the company grand.  Michael and Gordon Freeman*, two Germans, were good talkers, so we spent a short time taking a walk around the city.  We retired early to the restaurant on the roof and had a few well-earned beers.  The next morning we planned on visiting the fortress towering over the city, it was the biggest fortress anywhere, probably.  Katy, another German, tagged along with us as we made the long walk to the gate at least 200m high.  On the way we traversed the ‘Blue City’, exactly as it says on the tin, it was rather blue, and extremely charming.  The fortress itself was incredible, like nothing I’ve ever seen except perhaps in Italy on a smaller scale.  We did the touristy thing and got an audio tour which had the smoothest, most distinguished British-Indian gentleman narrating.  I could have listened to that fellow talk all day.  Hours later and a visit to a serene Zen-like temple finished (including jump-shots) we rickshawed back to the clocktower, the ‘centre’ of town I suppose, to have lunch at a local’s lunch stop.  This is the best way to eat in India we have concluded, it is ultra cheap (A full curry, rice, four Naan breads, yogurt, coriander dip and a bottle of water is around 65 Rupee/ $1.15)

Father was full and had had enough of the walking thing, so he left myself and Katy and retired to the hotel for the evening.  Earlier, we had passed a cinemaplex where the local Bollywood blockbuster was playing, “Bodyguard”, so to learn the local way, we decided to see it.  It was a fantastic time, regardless of the movie only being in Hindi, and it will not be the last Bollywood production I see.  The rest of the evening was spent socialising with other travellers at our hotel, and I met two kiwis and a Canadian woman who I may now be trekking with in the Himalayas in four week’s time.

We are on a train now to Jaipur (not Jodhpur), a town apparently renowned for its congested, polluted chaotic way of life.  We’ll see how that goes.

*Real name: Sebastian