4550 miles from Nottingham ...and I've developed tourettes!

It’s Easter Monday 2nd April and my next adventure begins. I wake to a news flash of a hotel collapsing in the city to which I’m heading. This makes me smile as it’s in keeping with my next countries formidable reputation of complete and utter carnage!!

I find myself in familiar territory back at Birmingham Airport and the memories of anxious anticipation I previously felt on my solo travels last year flood back. I’m very relaxed today though, oddly I have no sense of fear or anxiety, and more bewildering I have no sense of excitement either?...it’s a strange feeling. I conclude I’ve just become a bit of a nomad, hardened and accepting of whatever is to come. I don’t worry anymore. I’m surrounded by jolly spirited travellers though heading for their annual family breaks and i can't help but feel a little envy inside that I’m not feeling quite the same.

The airbus flight to Dubai was swallowed up with screaming children and loud bustle...it was like a frickin asylum aboard that plane and my mind was frazzled and in desperate need of some quiet on landing ....but well that was never to be from this point forward. Awaiting the transfer, I consider my fortunate position of being finally able to reach the country I have had an unexplainable hunger to visit for a few years now, this is the place which triggered my desire to travel - by morning I will be arriving in INDIA!!!

It was approximately three years ago I became fascinated by this country, experiencing what I would acknowledge now as ‘a calling’. I do believe that’s what India does you see - it calls you and you just know in your heart in that moment its call cannot be denied. 

A nice young taxi driver meets me at the airport and proudly describes his hard working life on the road, boasting of owning his clapped out white taxi (which looks exactly like every other car in India). He’s one of the lucky Indians who, through his efforts have managed to climb the ladder from bicycle to ‘vehicle owner’ and his body swells with pride as he beats his chest stating ‘I own my car!’. I listen with endearing affection, he’s a lovely young man with ambition and he’s sure to do well in this life. As we draw closer to my hotel I catch myself subconsciously tensing at the indescribable carnage before my eyes. A pile up of rickshaws, tub tug’s, Taxi’s, animals and humans fighting for road space and a route through the unmanaged roads. Vehicles approach from literally every direction there’s no logic, consideration or sense to it all, everyone inches ahead with multimeters to spare around the circumference of each vehicle and horns are constantly and continually honking. Its an overwhelming assault on the senses and an absolutely mind blowing sight!

I’m staying in Paharganj, Old Delhi close to the Main Bazar which is a street market and a thriving hub of activity. My hotel named ‘The Spot’ is to my usual standard of absolutely kin' minging. I chuckle as I’m introduced to my room for the next three nights. Everything about this place is filthy - the floor hasn’t been washed in the last decade, the formerly white sheets are a distinct shade of ‘grey’ and stained, no flushing toilet just a hand bowl to flush water through and a rusted shower head that trickles brown tinged cold water that you know makes your dirtier than when you stepped in and would be sure to kill you if you drank. I smile with a sigh somehow knowing I’ll get through it ....ahhh man here we go again!!

I wander the bazaar along with crazy traffic, cows and fellow humans and it’s not long before my new sandals are spoilt as I step square into a huge steaming pile of cow *hit that I skid in on contact. Normally this would distress me, but the sights, filth and squalor that surrounds me reassure me I have much worse to survive. There are many scammers laying in wait who approach in their subtly intimidating way which becomes tiring quite quickly. Our western politeness gives them leverage and they pursue their victims with merciless force. You need to be strong both in your physical stance and verbal rejection to keep these 'wolves in sheep clothing' from your door. Your ‘new blood’ and they’re desperate....it’s an ongoing and relentless battle of wills throughout my time in Delhi.

This lady in red was a nasty little piece of work. She approached me aggressively trying to touch my skin with a henna pen. I told her not to touch me and she just kept scornfully laughing in my face and across to her friends. I had to push my book at her and eventually she left but this aggressive approach is commonplace throughout my time here - it's constant and absolutely exhausting.

A tuk tuk driver was (not so discreetly) taking selfies of himself and me whilst waiting at traffic lights, between he was staring at me intently through his rear view mirror. I don't believe this was innocent and would be used for boasts of an encounter with a foreigner with his friends....his fascination was seriously creepy.

Little ones just meander the streets alone, theres no supervision and how they survive the unsafe streets 

i just do not know.

Cow's are sacred in India and roam the streets, not moving for anyone or anything.

Bars in India are also less common due to their religious beliefs, they are blanked off physically from the outside world, a bit like the ‘private’ shops in the UK. They are all occupied by men and my presence as a western woman is reluctantly welcomed and sparks intrigue. The intense stares are awkward but I’m not phased by them, it’s more curiosity than intended aggression here. My past travel experience has taught me to hold their gaze, they find this confrontational and immediately break eye contact. I defiantly visit a few bars and it doesn’t take long for me to quietly observe and understand the characteristics of this place. My favourite finds are as follows:

‘Mr Gold’ - this is the Gold Hotel in which I speak with a young enthusiastic waiter (I nickname Mr. Gold) with dreams. He has many siblings, is from humble background and longs for a better life. These are the people who truly inspire me and are a stark reminder of how poverty can actually bring out the best in people. Our materialistic world is a long way from this young mans existence. What this boy gains in life will be through his own grit and determination....something thats seriously lacking in our younger generations.

‘The Godfather’ - this is a bar named ‘your’s’ and the shenanigans that go on here are incredibly fascinating. There’s a quiet unassuming man sitting by the entrance door and a sheik to his left, armed with his knife sitting in front of a computer. Men walk into the bar from the street handing over wads of cash to the unassuming man who counts every rupee, he runs it through his calculator and hands it to the shiek. I notice the computer lists local bars and restaurants and it doesn’t take long to realise this pair are clearly taking protection money from the local community. They pay no attention to me whatsoever and I queerly know I’m safe and absolutely gripped by it all. After a couple of days defiantly visiting this bar I gain the unassuming mans trust and after a brief conversation he extends his hand as I leave for the final time and connects only with three of my fingers. This is a grand gesture from the ‘godfather’ and I need nothing more to know I’ve earn’t this mans respect. 

Seedy Men in 'Your's Bar'

The Godfather in his counting house and the Sheik at work

Krishna Cafe - this sits at the end of the Main Bazaar street and has a rooftop observatory. The young waiter struggles to understand ‘Clifton’, he’s only been working there for two weeks. He’s approximately eighteen and has left his life and family in Nepal in search of work in Delhi and a better life. I love this place...it’s accessed via five storeys of unsafe rickety head banging staircase but provides escape from the mayhem that lies beneath its unsafe foundations. It’s unlicensed so beer is served in a mug - it’s simply unforgettably awesome!!

Views from the rooftop terrace

Day two I head off to New Delhi and as I cross the border the contrast between Old and New Delhi is mind bogglingly evident. The noise quietens, the air’s cleaner, there’s more green space and western shops like H&M and M&S take preciedence in the Connaught Place precinct. My heart sinks a little and I’m grateful to be staying in Old Delhi or ‘real India’....I cannot connect or warm to the new side. 

I ride the efficient metro and this experience definitely provided me with more than I bargained for!! After visiting Humayuns Tomb I’m heading back north to visit the ‘Red Fort’. It’s around 2.30pm, the metro is busy and carriages cramped. There’s people squashing into you in every direction. I’m of course used to this with our own London underground but as the carriage begins to clear I become aware of a pushing to my rear. This registers on my ‘uncomfortable radar’ and I spin around quickly to see a young dark skinned indian man. He makes no eye contact and as I glare intently at him he shuffles his way discreetly into a group of men. As my eyes bore into him, I notice he’s in a state of arousal and i knew instantly it’s his 'lunchbox' which had been pressing against me! I make enough fuss and point to his groin to draw attention to him and he's squirming uncomfortably desperately trying not to react to me. I am not happy in the moment - you dirty *ucker i'm thinking!!!

I’d read about this, men who ride the underground seeking western ‘promiscuous’ women to relief their urges (this does also happen to Indian women too), but somehow you never believe it’s going to happen to you. It's a chancy move by him as there’s severe consequences for them if caught. It’s my overall reaction however that startled me more. Whilst shocking and quite frankly repulsive I didn’t take it personally. I mean c’mon what could a young lad find attractive about a forty something crinkly woman's arse. He’s not interested in me, just the novelty and sexual gratification of being that close to a foreigner. I in no way condone his actions and do not wish for others to experience it, but i recognise this countries 'conservative' and religious status has created an underworld of sexual desires that cannot be expressed. Its a dark and murky world and the social media and TV coverage of sexy Bollywood movies and women's scantily clad wrestling (which i personally observed in bars) almost encourage the behaviour.  Quite frankly I flatly refuse to let one mans actions affect my feelings about this country and have to accept this happens, but notably it's time to step up the vigilance and the next one that tries this stunt will get an estate girls fist clean in the face, either that or i'll physically rip his *ick off, whichever comes first - YOU'VE BEEN WARNED INDIA! - mmmm.....i can see trouble ahead!

I've enjoyed immersing myself in the Delhi experience, visiting most of what the city has to offer. Three days is certainly enough here, the monuments and buildings are underwhelming at best. They half-heartedly (i'm guessing due to financial constraints) maintain their heritage with most appearing tired, unmaintained, unkempt and dirty on the periphery. It's the people and their indescribable lives consumed by poverty and sheer desperation which have gripped me over the past few days, its this which shall stay in my collection of memories of this city.

Stray dogs are everywhere throughout the city...its a pitiful sight.

Humayums Tomb, New Delhi

India Gate, New Delhi

I'm off to what is described in Hindu tradition as the 'oldest city in the world' Varanasi tomorrow. Im looking forward to seeing what this sacred place beholds.... whilst praying the hotel is an improvement on my Delhi hovel!!!