What’s new is old in Delhi
After an uneventful arrival in Delhi, I check-in to one of the oldest and grandest hotels, The Imperial, for the start of my 10-day journey through the Golden Triangle of India. I decide to reacquaint myself with Connaught Circle to try and stay awake. Being a Sunday and a long weekend, the roads are relatively empty for my stroll down Janpath Road. I preprepared myself for the tuk-tuk, rickshaw and taxi drivers wanting to take me wherever I wanted to go… “I’m just walking up to Connaught Circle to take some photos”, I say to the myriads of drivers, and they leave me alone.
As I walk down Janpath Road, and man nicely dressed starts walking with me, asking where I am from, what am I doing etc. I know that this may just be another rouse to get me to do something I do not want to do, but I am too nice to ignore him, and we start up a conversation. Maybe I assumed too much, and he just wanted a nice, friendly chat as we reach Connaught Circle. Then as we cross the road, he mentions he is just going to work, as a worker for the Government Tourist Board, and would I like to see his office?
“Thank you for the offer, but I am just walking around to look for images to photograph”, I say.
“Please come in, I will give you a map and then you can go on your way”, he says.
Again, my politeness overrules my common sense, and I go inside. After he opens the map and marks out some places, he tries the sting.
“It is a Tax-Free Sunday for this long weekend. I have a tuk-tuk outside to take you where the shopping is already open.”
“That’s OK”, I say. I now devise a plan to not get in the tuk-tuk. “I prefer to walk. Can you show me the way?”.
He takes me to the corner and shows me the way. I walk to the next corner, check to see that he has not followed me, and make an exit stage left. Within 3 minutes of walking back to the hotel, I encounter a new local, although he is really from Kathmandu, offering to show me places to photograph.
“I will not ask you for money”, he says, and again my manners supersede my commonsense.
He takes me down off the main road, and shows me beautiful old wrought iron staircases, sone beautiful Banyan trees, and I also see some amazing people and brutalist architecture...all this within a block of the main road. I decide I am done and mention that I will walk back to the hotel, when I encounter sting number two.
“Could we go to a store, where you can buy some food for disadvantaged children?”
I momentarily think yes, but then remember that I have no way of knowing that is who I am buying this for. “Not this time”, I say… ”maybe later”.
Enough adventure for my first morning, and I head back to The Imperial for breakfast. It’s still cool enough and enjoy the gardens. My waiter Aman starts some idle chit-chat, with the usual mentions of cricket and Ricky Ponting. I’m then intrigued when he starts to talk about where he goes for holidays.
“Ladakh…I love to ride my motorbike to the Himalayas. The cool air is wonderful, as I dislike the summer here in Delhi.” He shows me his motorcycle, and a picture of him in his gear. My faith in not everyone trying to sell me something in Delhi is restored, and I look forward to the next morning’s instalment.
