Dealing with Delhi

May 4th, 2011

Arriving at the train station called Hazrat Nizamuddin (sounds like a character from Star Wars), I hopped in a taxi with the hopes of being taken to the nearest metro line. From my research, I don’t think I was taken to the closest, but it was on a better line for getting to my destination. I had decided, after talking to some other travellers and Panna (from the Olive Garden), to try and find accommodation in an area called Paharganj, a popular spot for backpackers. I exited the metro at the New Delhi train station and knew that Paharganj was to the west and I happened to exit on the east side of this big station.

Getting off the train:

A big jovial fellow approached me and started off with small talk, asking me where I was from etc. I was quite sure that he was a tuktuk driver trying to solicit business and sure enough he was, but I was impressed that he happened to have a small Canadian flag sticker on the front of his vehicle. He offered to take me to Paharganj for a mere 20 rupees...why not?

As we tootled down the road, he kept trying to convince me that we should stop by the tourist information place (really a travel agent) as he had dropped a fellow Canadian there early that day. Obviously he must get some type of commission but I rejected his offer mentioning the monolithic journey I had just undertaken...a shower was much higher on my list of priorities!

Raja, the jolly driver:

As we tootled down the road, he kept trying to convince me that we should stop by the tourist information place (really a travel agent) as he had dropped a fellow Canadian there early that day. Obviously he must get some type of commission but I rejected his offer mentioning the monolithic journey I had just undertaken...a shower was much higher on my list of priorities!

He took me to a hotel and I’m sure I was getting a foreigner’s rate but at this point I didn’t care, as I mentioned...shower time!

After cleaning up I headed out to find a restaurant. Paharganj has a few main roads, chock full of neon signed hotels, and many alleyways running in between. Down these alleyways were many different types of food vendors and small shops selling anything and everything. But to find a sit down restaurant? Next to impossible it seemed.

Paharganj:

Food vendors selling who knows what:

Just as I was walking by this father gave his son a cool mask while he was sitting on a matching bike...couldn't help but ask to take a photo:

I finally stumbled across one, a sports bar, and it was jam packed...no wonder. The waiter asked if I minded sitting with another foreigner and I didn’t mind. He was from France and was heading back tomorrow after 5 months in India. I asked him his favourite spot and he said Hampi...cool, I’ve been there!

Later we were joined by another Frenchman and a guy from Kashmir, the northernmost area of India (which is where the French guy had been for the last few months). I enjoyed practicing some French and was interested to hear that Jean was next planning to head to Canada, to Montreal and began a long and slow journey down the Americas to Argentina, occasionally working along the way....nice, good on ya. After a bite to eat, we parted ways and thankfully I was able to find my way back through the labyrinth to my hotel.