Bag lady

Bag lady
Delhi, India

Delhi, India

Good news – found Pepsi max but it’s just called ‘Diet Pepsi’. Bad news – no ones bags from Australia made it to India. Lucky for that spare pair of underwear and the supply of pharmaceuticals in my carry on. There is rubbish littering the streets. It’s like India was built on a landfill – what came first, the rubbish or India? Have seen some questionable structures… Building codes appear to be absent. The cars on the road all look like they’ve been to a car version of fight club. Upon arrival at my hotel, I met two other girls who happened to be on the same tour. Carolita, an American, 11th year Med Student (a Dr specialising in Emergency treatment) and Donna, a Scottish photographer. They invited me to join them for a walk along the streets of Dehli. We all made it to the corner of the street and turned back realising that there was nothing here for us that could be reached by foot… That and the.. Let’s call them roads and side walks, were a sea of puddles and mud. Instead, we opted to take a taxi into the Rajah Garden (a mall that turned out to not be a mall). On the way, we took in the sights… A local man made waterfall, commonly known as ‘public urination’ and two little boys squatting over the side of a bridge, pants down, doodles dangling, taking a casual, roadside poo together #cute #illpoowithyou. At Rajah Garden, Donna organised a SIM card… Or had her identity stolen… The process of getting a SIM over here involved providing a copy of your passport and the exchange of other personal information. The skies really started to open up – it was not ideal and the three of us caught ourselves constantly stopping and staring in silence knowing this would have/ could have been an enjoyable experience had it not been raining and 16 degrees. As I didn’t have a jacket like the other two, I was freezing and slowly taking on water. We got in a tuk tuk and headed back to the hotel… In the rain, mouths closed, even riding through makeshift rivers where roads once were. When people say, “oh it’s exactly like the movies”, that does not apply to this part of India, because, it’s worse. Carolita generously gifted her Emirates flight care package to me containing a pair of socks, toothbrush and an eye mask to stop the light coming in… For when the sun comes out again… I was eager to have a hot shower and arrange some food… Always the dreamer.. Of course, there’s no hot water. We met two more people on our tour. Sophie and Tom, a lovely Pommy couple who we made dinner plans with for the evening. On the advice of another traveller, we headed to a place called BAR. BAR was advertised as a 65 meter walk from the hotel. It was actually a kilometre obstacle course involving traffic, heavy rain, mud and death trap strewn side walks with some holes the size of grave plots. Top that off with a big whiff of fresh fecal matter – Non Bon appetite! The BAR had great garlic Naan and played loud dub techno… for ambiance and to aid digestion… The rain had now progressed from steady, to pouring. Getting back to the hotel was a less than dry experience… Number of cold showers for the day = 3

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