Arrival at the Gates of Hell

To say that arrival in Delhi was a shock would be an understatement. As I exited the airport the air smelt slightly smokey, reminiscent of burning plastic with a distinct rubber finish. Thick heavy smog hung over the parking lot lights. I got a cab and headed for Paraganj, the backpackers ghetto of Delhi. Taxis and motorbikes coast down the road without acknowledgement of traffic lanes, lazily changing lanes on a whim. The pace was unhurried, drivers seeming resigned to move slowly but steadily in a city where traffic is ever present. Honking seems to be regarded as a courtesy used to warn others of their intention to pass or merge. Many vehicles have “Please Honk” painted on their rear bumper.

    Delhi is not what we would call a “vacation destination”.  In my case, its a destination of necessity. Incoming flights are cheap and the location is in close proximity to Nepal, where Jay and I will be trekking in the coming days. Deep puddles pockmark the dirt roads that cut through narrow lanes of dilapidated storefronts. Many buildings are missing their facade entirely. Mangy stray dogs line the streets, rising to their feet to dodge oncoming taxis and rickshaws. A thick film of filth covers everything. Touts harass with offers of guesthouses, tours and taxis. And why is there so much poo on the streets? Needless to say, the place is a hell hole.

I woke up extra early (due to the time difference) and sat on the street drinking chai tea and talking with the vendor. Before the frenzy of the day began the street was filled with people going about their everyday business. Children in uniforms headed off to school. The boys wear these excellent cauliflower blue pants that crack me up. Shop owners open their doors before gathering around to chew betel leaf, a mild stimulant with bright red juice.

I walked the city almost all day just scoping it out. Confirming that it would be best to get out of

Delhi as soon as possible. I headed to the ATM to take out some cash to discover that Indian ATMs did not recognize my card. After many worried hours at the computer Mike was able to patch through some info that activated an ATM card I was carrying for Jay, saving me from sleeping in the Delhi train station. I booked a 42 hour bus ride to Kathmandu and slept through the night.