Delhi Day Two

 Why don’t all hotels have masala chai ready to go in the morning? The world would be a better place. After breakfast and a cuppa. I went off for an adventure.

The “view” from my hotel balcony

I started the day off at Connaught Circle for no reason other than it’s a convenient metro ride and it seems like a place where things happen. Well… sorta true. Connaught is one of New Delhi’s major traffic circles and around the center has a number of shops ranging from gutbucket no name clothing to high end jewelry. A really strange mix. I wandered into a bazaar built underground below the circle for a bit and decided I’d had my fill. I directed myself South down Janpath to see what was there.

New Delhi is clearly the product of British Garden City development. Straight broad roads lined with trees. Traffic circles. Buildings set back from the right of way. Basically if the British decided they were going to imitate Paris in India. Maddeningly, the genius who laid out the streets decided on a hexagonal grid which makes the layout… unique. As I walked down I stumbled on The Imperial Hotel, an Imperial relic. After going through one of Delhi’s many metal detectors, I was permitted in. Somehow five people opened doors for me between the street and the lobby, that’s a record I think. I came in under the guise of “making an inquiry for afternoon tea.” Obviously they can’t turn me away for such a comical request. I do love a good afternoon tea service but the more traditional British services are a bit boring to me. The Imperial’s is lovely if that’s what you’re looking for. I think I’ll find something else.

Wide streets in New Delhi

It was barely noon, I’m having trouble figuring out what to do today. I threw in the towel and decided to hit the railway museum. Every big old city has one and Delhi is no different. Railroading in India is interesting for a few reasons. Their trains all run on tracks laid out further apart than standard. This spacing is Unique to India (and to BART in the SF Bay Area but that’s another story). This means that rail equipment here is just bigger than it would be in the rest of the world. The museaum is a decaying array of kit that you can stare at from the outside. Not much to see here unless you’re a true Indian train foamer. I wandered around for a while and saw one surprising thing. A Dodge from the 20s that had been turned into a train in the US and shipped off to India to work down rural line. Strange.

Big iron

By then I was getting hungry and decided to treat myself to some authentic Indian cuisine. Back to Connaught for Taco Bell. Tbell is from Southern California and out here it’s been heavily localized. I barely recognized the menu at all and I was curious. Doubly so because Indian and Mexican food are natural mashups. Both cuisines share a long list of ingredients on and off the spice rack. 10/10 experience, keep it up Delhi Taco Bell.

After lunch I decided I might try to see if I could get my Zorki serviced in India. Surely there’s a camera shop somewhere in this city and if they’ll do the work it would be much cheaper than a pro back in the US. My search brought me to Chandi Chowk in Old Delhi. This is a market street with clusters of shops selling whatever you might need. After some searching I found a camera shop and asked where I could find a repairman. He directed me around the corner to the camera bazaar. This was a dark passage you could easily miss lined on either side with dozens of stalls selling camera hardware. These shops, no more than 100 square feet, often left thousand of dollars of cameras within arm’s reach on the counter. Secure in the fact that there’s nowhere to run. This is a place that a local would call crowded. After some more inquiries I found a shop. An old Indian man sat at a bench in front of a pile of old film cameras. I told him what I needed and the moment I said Russian camera he said no. Okay, simple as. At least it was a good adventure. By this point I was tired and went back to my hotel.

Thieves in the market

At six I rose from my afternoon nap to meet my tour group. These are the Innocents Abroad which whom I was to explore India. The two aforementioned Canadians. Two from San Jose. One Scott living in Australia. And one person from the UK even younger than me. Thankfully I’m not to be the most junior. There are two more in some unknown state. Their flights should have arrived but we know nothing of their whereabouts. Our guide, a Delhi local, introduces himself and gives us the lay of the land in India. For tonight, the only thing to do is to have dinner as a group and get to know each other. These folks are cheerful and either seasoned travelers or good at living and letting live. Seems like a solid bunch to share a van in India with. We should get along okay.

The pollution is getting better, today the AQI was a mere 350. At least a cigarette comes with a filter. This place would be so much nicer if the air wasn’t trying to kill us all. I’m surprised the government isn’t doing more about it. When you walk around, everywhere you go you see a thin film of dust. Pollution falling out of suspension and settling on whatever is underneath. Marble steps are slippery with fine noxious sand. Watch your step.