Delhi in 30 hours with 30 AUD

How did I not guess that something's gonna go wrong with one of these third world airlines? I was told at Dhaka Airport that the plane has technical difficulties and there are no spare planes so they'll have to get two other airline to take me separately to Delhi via Kolkata. Otherwise the next direct flight would not be for three days. Great. Something some how slipped again in Kolkata and I never did end up being booked on the second flight when I turned up, thankfully the flight was fairly vacant and I managed to get on it.

I ended up arriving in Delhi way after midnight (Taxi costed 230Rs). Driving through the streets at that time of the day is a weird experience. On the suburban roads where the shops are closed already hundreds of people camp outside on the pavement lighting fires with gasoline cans, some are asleep on the footpath or the refuge islands, next to street dogs or perched up on a piece of bamboo mat on a bench or on their work carts they use during the day, or in their CNGs(auto rickshaws). As the taxi took me closer to Praha Ganj near the main train station, the eateries are alive with mainly men buzzing in and out getting supper. The Hindi presence is unmistakable - the vegetarian restaurants, the pictures and idols of Hindu Gods displayed on vehicles and walls, marigold decorated chains and shrines brightens any street corner.

Despite many still being very poor here, you can immediately tell that it is a lot more scrubbed up and prosperous than Bangladesh by the bigger scale of everything, the neon lights, the amount of English being used and the much better clothes they have. Perhaps more worldly too. The number of tourists around here means that I'm not such a rare occurrence and while I still get the stares they are not as shocked or as blunt as to follow you around as the Bangladeshis.

In the morning, a young man working for the temple comes into the hotel reception to collect their daily contributions in a metal bucket. The hotel manager, who a second ago was putting his best foot in trying to sign me up to some dodgy tour suddenly wipes all aggression off his face and turns into an obedient little cat as he handed over coins for the messenger. The young man was dressed in all grey traditional attire with a peach pink scarf, his peaceful "I'm in Nirvana" face dusted with powder, simply nodded in acknowledgement and disappeared as gently as he had arrived.

The Red Fort

I spent the morning at the Red Fort, Lal Qila (100Rs), which is the huge 500 year old palace and fort of the Mughal Empire (the Peacock Throne still sits there) which was the last great power on the subcontinent before the Brits took over in the 19th century. Its an amazing few acres of gardens and palaces and a few really fascinating museums on ancient and recent Indian political history including a lot of stuff on their fine tradition of peaceful resistance both pre and post Gandhi.

For the first time for a long time, when I saw the splendid white marble palaces in the main garden, I had a faint sense of dejavu. This is what my dream of India would be like if I ever had a dream of India. White stretching terraces, delicate domed roofs, neatly planted flowers perched in a warm breeze and a white cloudy haze. Women in saris floating across the pearl like floors in twos and threes, so light as if they are just part of the flora and not really part of this world. Birds migrating from one roof to another darting like fireworks in the sky, smell of rain in the big open sky. I felt as if I've walked into a space at the back of my mind.

State of the Art Delhi Metro

After a lunch of throat-slashing samosas (24 Rs) I launched myself back into the real Delhi. If I hadn't had a good practice in Bangladesh with the rickshaws I would otherwise be really scared to take one here by myself but I know these guys are pretty harmless if you are forward with them. And If I hadn't got a rickshaw(20Rs) I wouldn't be able to find the metro stop as its shown on the map - it never mentioned how its actually a small door in a park tucked behind the Police Station which you can easily mistake as a filthy public toilet. But as soon as you walk down the staircase into the station its a different story. You could be anywhere in a high-tech city in Europe or East Asia. Its bright, clean, air conditioned and the info was clear, concise and easy to find. The metro was so extremely cheap (8Rs), about 25 Australian Cents within the central zone can get you around five or six stations about 7 or 8 kms away which otherwise would cost ten times more on a CNG and ten times more time due to the congestion. Security check is strict so I can only take photos of people's feet... Inside the carriages it was packed, not just the middle classed people but some poorer people too. The passengers were quiet and observant like in a lift, something I've never seen around this part of the world before.

I have a feeling that the much better organised traffic outside is much due to this new system, and while its a good thing for a lot of people its probably put a lot of taxi and rickshaw guys out of work as well. Just like TV and mobile phones, this technology is changing culture, lifestyle and economy like never before.

Tiring Stuff

Shopping in Connaught Place is a very tiring business, because its a huge roundabout with large sections divided by big boulevards. Not only is it hard to navigate but you'd risk your life crossing the road as well. I tried crossing the road by going down the underground passage ways except there's a guy standing at the top of the staircase pleading to me very emotionally not to go down there. "Its bad, its dangerous, they'll put shit on your shoes." (Which I've been warned already), he even put his arms across the entrance to block me from going in. OK, what-ever, and it did stink like rotting beetle nut spit and a urinal so I just crossed the road instead. Geeziz.

Prices are a lot higher here than in Bangladesh and the touts are a lot more tourist savvy, but the variety of the shopping was much more interesting and still affordable at the end of the day (300Rs for an embroidered bag, 2 nose studs and two scarves combined). I still had to fight off three separate young men trying to accost me. I've forgotten how annoying it is to travel as a single female completely open to harassment. They've all got the same lines too, like straight after the "practice English" line they ask me why I'm "angry" when I just ignore them. Jerks.

HelloGoodbye

I ended the day with a good old chicken masala with my last bit of cash (90Rs), and drifted off to sleep till I was plucked up again at 3am. The taxi (400 Rs) took me back to the airport past India Gate, commemorating Indian soldiers who died on foreign soils for foreign powers. The sleeping people I saw last night look as if they hadn't moved despite the noise, the fumes, the heat. But they have. They've probably worked the entire 30 hours that I was here and made less than a tenth of what I spent. I hope they wake up to an India that treats them just a little better, just like its been improving bit by bit all this time through all these years.