Lodhi Gardens, Delhi

November 8, 2008

So, following our plan that we visit some of Delhi's more peaceful spots today, we next had Raj drive us from Humayun's tomb to the sprawling Lodhi Gardens, an oasis of lawns and trees in this busy city.

According to guide books, Lodhi Gardens was originally the site of two villages surrounding monuments surviving from the 15th century Sayyid and Lodhi dynasties, but the villagers were relocated in 1936 in order to create the gardens, which ere landscaped by the British. As there is little architecture from these two periods remaining in India, Lodhi Gardens is an important place of preservation. The tomb of Mohammed Shah is visible from the road, and is the earliest structure in the gardens.

Here Jeff and I saw , as well as ancient Indian tombs, a very helpful series of signs which identified the birdlife we saw in this area (cuckoos and mynah birds!), children playing cricket, and long lines composed of hundreds of school children of all ages, who waved and shouted hello at us as we passed one another along the pathways.

As well as being a pleasant place to walk, the Lodhi gardens finally gave us an opportunity to photograph those chipmunks who had eluded our cameras so skillfully back at Humayun's tomb.

Humayun's Tomb

Once a burial ground for the Moghul emperors of India, the site known as Humayun's tomb in Delhi eventually became a park for the British colonials. To me it felt like pleasant uncrowded place to wander on a warm day. I did not write much of its history in my journal, but these are the things impressions that stuck with me.
Ancient tombs white marble, deliciously cool to wander in. Old men sweeping the tombs with long wispy brooms.
Stone lacework on the arched windows. Tiny staircases and passageways to explore. Views over the lawns of the park gardens.
Dogs sleeping in the sun. Dusty palm trees and long pathways along tiny channels of water that led to small fountains. An enormous water-bug. Chipmunks scurrying everywhere.

Breakfast and Bird-Watching on the Roof

Saturday, November 8, 2008

The prospect of exploring India seems so much more exciting and palatable after a night's sleep and a breakfast spent bird-watching on the rooftop patio.

We watched large hawks chase pigeons through the maze of buildings around us, dive-bombing low over our heads as they chased their prey. A large eagle of some sort glowered from its perch on a nearby hotel sign. There were some small green parrots playing on the roof across the street (like the ones in the photo below which we took later on today), a few doves, and of course those ubiquitous little LBJ's (little brown jobs), tiny birds pecking for our toast crumbs.

A man from the hotel sat with us for part of our breakfast, pointing out attractions on the map and advertising the services of a car and driver which could be rented for a few hours or all day.

Since we were hoping for a relaxing day before the tour with Exodus started, and yet still wanted to see some things before leaving the city, we decided to hire the fellow, who was named Rajneesh (Raj for short). For under twenty dollars, we would have a guide and transportation all day in New Delhi in his little white car. Just for fun, I started counting the number of times Raj leaned on his car horn---32 times. And I think he might be conservative in that around these parts. :)

A Long, long Day:Leaving for India...and Arriving

November 5, 2008

Isn't it strange that you can start a day leaving your own front door on one side of the world and end it eating curry from a rubble-filled kitchen thousands of miles away on the other side of the planet? And still be running on three hours sleep?This is the story of how Spider Girl and Jeff travelled to India and Nepal.

Well, it was actually our friends' front door that we left behind, and it was two days that felt like one long one that stretched and stretched in a blur of airports but the feeling is much the same.

We flew Air Canada from Vancouver to London Heathrow, departing British Columbia in the early evening and arriving about noon London time. Our plane was overbooked and we are just happy to get on even though our window seats have been usurped and we are stuck in the middle of the plane. After this ten hour flight, we feel pathetically grateful to have booked a Yotel room at Heathrow. The train tunnels from Terminal Three to Terminal Four are lit with a moody blue, and in our ship cabin-sized Yotel room we are greeted with more mood lighting, this time a soft, cocooning pink shade.

The shower is hot. The bed is soft. Somebody is drilling hammering something in the hallway doing renovations until we ask him for the love of all things holy: stop it. After that, all is bliss , and whatever we paid for this tiny room feels worth it, even for the mere four hours we have it.

Our next flight is on Virgin Atlantic to New Delhi, leaving a wintry London around ten o'clock at night and arriving in the sultry smog of Delhi about noon Indian time. Once again, we are seated in the middle of the plane but the little movie-playing screens on the back of the seats in front of us make the long flight more bearable. An ironic feeling to be flying over Afghanistan watching the movie "Sex and the City. Mentally thumbed my nose at the Taleban somewhere below.

As our plane came into the descent over Delhi an announcement came on that they were going to spray insecticide inside the cabin, but hey, not to worry, it's perfectly harmless. Well, except to the bugs---and oh---you better cover your eyes everyone.

And there went two or three crew members marching up and down the aisles, two cans of bug spray in each hand, merrily fumigating us where we sat. I finished sputtering on the fumes, and asked what kind of insects they were spraying for. "Oh, lots of different things! Anything!" came the cheery reply.

And so we arrived in India.

Delhi sweltered under a thick yellow-brown haze and 27 Celsius. The airport seemed relatively quiet compared to what I'd been expecting. No problems with customs or retrieving our bags. But the driver from our pre-booked hotel didn't show up at arrivals, so we shrugged and hired a car from the airport who would take us there for about twelve dollars (500 rupees). It was a good decision.

Riding in this little car with our driver in his crisp white uniform and cap was our first glimpse of India: and we had previouslythought there were adventurous (crazy) drivers in Italy!

We honked and wove our way through a chaotic sea of buzzing, roaring, weaving, erratic traffic: open-sided tuk-tuks with bare-footed drivers, motorcycles carrying sari-clad passengers riding elegantly side-saddle, buses, bicycles, cars sporting dents aplenty all obeying some universal code of the road apparently based on faith in the gods.

At one point we noticed two guys lying on their backs on the dusty, garbage-strewn highway median. They were reading books, and we theorized that they'd made it only halfway across before deciding it was safer to stay there a while.

Our taxi driver displayed a gold-coloured Ganesh elephant head on the dash and bobbed his head to Hindi pop tunes as he navigated his way into the narrow, dusty crowded streets of Karol Bagh, the congested neighbourhood where he eventually found the Rahul Hotel Palace--after asking twice for directions, once from a man carrying crates of chickens on his bicycle.

From our hotel (not so much a Palace really), the steady street sounds of honking horns and distant shouts gradually became a strangely soothing background as we relaxed and napped for five hours. There was no question of going for a relaxing walk around our street as we often do to unwind from a long plane trip in a new place. One, we really felt exhausted and ready to just sleep. Two, it wouldn't be relaxing to go for a walk here. I'll be honest and say that the noise and rubble and general ambience of Karol Bagh was not for the already-disoriented to deal with. It was intimidating .

Around eight in the evening we emerged from our room and used the hotel's free internet to send "we made it here safely" emails to all, and then up to the roof-top restaurant to dine on butter naan bread, spicy masala tea, and a huge bowl of butter chicken. The food was excellent, despite the fact that the open kitchen is literally heaped with rubble. Renovations perhaps, but it looked more like earthquake-recovery.

From the roof we had a good view of the busy street below. We also spied where extra mattresses and pillows were stored in the open air. Dust and pollution made the air feel curiously heavy to breathe.

The staff was friendly, but no, this was not a luxury hotel. On the one hand, our room had a beautiful marble floor and beautiful tasselled curtains; on the other hand it's a good plan to bring your own toilet paper sometimes. And we luckily did.

Lights off at midnight, ending our first day in India.