16:30 Hrs; Left the hotel. As per directions from the staff went Right out of the hotel, and then Right again. Got lost. Walked two blocks, then stopped a passerby to ask for help. Turns out I am on the right street (Janpath), but going in the wrong direction.
16:40 Hrs: Walk back the way i came, past my hotel, and reach the large, frantic roundabout (Delhi is full of these). Waiting to cross the heavy stream of traffic, a man beside me strikes up a conversation. He's friendly, well-dressed- middle-aged professional. Asks where am i from? Where am i going? (Regular Gaugin, this guy). -I'm trying to get to Connaught place. -Why? -Looking for a flower shop. -Oh, well there's one right near here, they have everything you need.
Okay, great. Friendly Guy even walks me over there himself. I go inside, and it's an over-priced, over-air-conditioned, multi-level Indian craft store. Not a flower in sight. Kinda saw this one coming.
16:55 Hrs: Leave the Emporium. Back to the road. Accosted by numerous autorickshaw drivers who demand that I not walk to my destination. I ignore them, and head back to the roundabout. This thing is confusing, and has about ten different crosswalks. I don't know where to start fording this stream. I know that Connaught Place is only five minutes and fifteen rupees away from where i am by rickshaw because I've done the trip in the other direction, so I cave in and hail one of the green-and-yellow whiplash machines. -Connaught Place, please.
. We're off, but I notice that so is the meter. -Could you turn the meter on please? -No, no meter. Thirty rupees, thirty rupees. -No, meter. Meter. -Just thirty rupees, baas. (He's pulled to the side now). - Meter, or I get out. -Thirty rupees only. -I'm getting out.
I get out. Another rickshaw pulls up behind. I walk over. -Connaught Place, but put the meter on. -No meter. Only forty rupees. -No! Meter. METER, or I'm not getting in. -Meter broken. Broken, baas. Forty rupees, only. -YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING WITH ME,
and I storm off. We'd been warned that Delhi is scam central.
17:05 Hrs: I walk halfway around the roundabout, and then into the swanky Shangri-La Hotel, which I'd been told was near my flower shop. They're very helpful, give me a map, point me in the right direction.
17:15 Hrs: Okay, this damn roundabout is still really confusing, so I bust out the map to make sure I go up the right avenue. A Friendly Guy stops to help me. I'm wary of friendliness now, but I'm also Canadian, and find it hard to be an outright asshole to a guy that's "just trying to help". -Where are you trying to go, sir? -So-and-so Flower Shop. -Oh no no. They are closed now. All Janpath market close now.
He points to my map. -You go this market, it's open. Have everything you need.
This market is a mile from where I want to go. I decide I better just start walking away. -Thank you. He keeps telling me the directions as i retreat, and then, -But you take rickshaw, sir. No walk. Many beggars. Take rickshaw!
I just keep walking.
17:45 Hrs: And walking. But as it turns out, he pointed me up the right street. I find my flower-shop, and it is not even close to closing, and all of Janpath is abuzz with activity as well. I buy my roses, and return to the hotel unscathed by further friendliness. And it all took only two hours...
Anyway. Delhi is big. And flat. And wide. The streets feel like the Amazon after the traffic-swollen little rivulets of Bombay. Wide avenues, government buildings. Very British. This is Central Delhi, of course.
It's summer weather. No monsoon moodiness. But the men here stare at Katya with abandon, as in their eyes abandon their fucking heads, like they're all cartoon wolves or something. I don't think she'll be wearing many sleeveless tops here...
16:40 Hrs: Walk back the way i came, past my hotel, and reach the large, frantic roundabout (Delhi is full of these). Waiting to cross the heavy stream of traffic, a man beside me strikes up a conversation. He's friendly, well-dressed- middle-aged professional. Asks where am i from? Where am i going? (Regular Gaugin, this guy). -I'm trying to get to Connaught place. -Why? -Looking for a flower shop. -Oh, well there's one right near here, they have everything you need.
Okay, great. Friendly Guy even walks me over there himself. I go inside, and it's an over-priced, over-air-conditioned, multi-level Indian craft store. Not a flower in sight. Kinda saw this one coming.
16:55 Hrs: Leave the Emporium. Back to the road. Accosted by numerous autorickshaw drivers who demand that I not walk to my destination. I ignore them, and head back to the roundabout. This thing is confusing, and has about ten different crosswalks. I don't know where to start fording this stream. I know that Connaught Place is only five minutes and fifteen rupees away from where i am by rickshaw because I've done the trip in the other direction, so I cave in and hail one of the green-and-yellow whiplash machines. -Connaught Place, please.
. We're off, but I notice that so is the meter. -Could you turn the meter on please? -No, no meter. Thirty rupees, thirty rupees. -No, meter. Meter. -Just thirty rupees, baas. (He's pulled to the side now). - Meter, or I get out. -Thirty rupees only. -I'm getting out.
I get out. Another rickshaw pulls up behind. I walk over. -Connaught Place, but put the meter on. -No meter. Only forty rupees. -No! Meter. METER, or I'm not getting in. -Meter broken. Broken, baas. Forty rupees, only. -YOU GUYS ARE FUCKING WITH ME,
and I storm off. We'd been warned that Delhi is scam central.
17:05 Hrs: I walk halfway around the roundabout, and then into the swanky Shangri-La Hotel, which I'd been told was near my flower shop. They're very helpful, give me a map, point me in the right direction.
17:15 Hrs: Okay, this damn roundabout is still really confusing, so I bust out the map to make sure I go up the right avenue. A Friendly Guy stops to help me. I'm wary of friendliness now, but I'm also Canadian, and find it hard to be an outright asshole to a guy that's "just trying to help". -Where are you trying to go, sir? -So-and-so Flower Shop. -Oh no no. They are closed now. All Janpath market close now.
He points to my map. -You go this market, it's open. Have everything you need.
This market is a mile from where I want to go. I decide I better just start walking away. -Thank you. He keeps telling me the directions as i retreat, and then, -But you take rickshaw, sir. No walk. Many beggars. Take rickshaw!
I just keep walking.
17:45 Hrs: And walking. But as it turns out, he pointed me up the right street. I find my flower-shop, and it is not even close to closing, and all of Janpath is abuzz with activity as well. I buy my roses, and return to the hotel unscathed by further friendliness. And it all took only two hours...
Anyway. Delhi is big. And flat. And wide. The streets feel like the Amazon after the traffic-swollen little rivulets of Bombay. Wide avenues, government buildings. Very British. This is Central Delhi, of course.
It's summer weather. No monsoon moodiness. But the men here stare at Katya with abandon, as in their eyes abandon their fucking heads, like they're all cartoon wolves or something. I don't think she'll be wearing many sleeveless tops here...
1 comment:
hahaha wow adrian seems like you are getting to like India aei..Delhi our capital city got everything life has to offer ..ya from sharks to ricks. Oh the stare katya had well it happens to all non delhiaite women, kinda in famine i guess these men there....
hey me had some work man just finished and managed to catch up
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