Kashmir carpet lesson

Nearly everyday since we have been here we have been diverted from our planned route with rickshaw drivers, taxis, and even touts in the street pushing us to their local handi craft emporioums. How ever many times you politely refuse their demand to visit one of these tourists traps; you still end up in one. Indians just don't listen!!! Everything is commission based, that's how it works here. In Delhi; in one such place we were escorted around an emporioum (close to the Lotus Temple) in a well rehearsed, and efficient procedure. Almost as though there were one way directional arrows marked on the floor. After you have seen one of these shops (often with wonderful names e.g Paradise Carpets), you have seen them all.

However, today we went to the other side of lake Dal (thank heavens our boat is not moored there; if lake Nageen is comparible to a sleepy village, then Dal is more like Delhi.
Lake Nageen is calm and tranquil. Back to carpets.

So our driver today took us to a Co-op carpet company, and what a pleasant surprise. Of course the salesman wanted to get a sale, and infact he really deserved it. He showed us a carpet weaver at work, and shared with us such interesting information:

Carpets are made from silk, wool, artifical fibre or a mixture of all. How to check that a silk carpet is exactly that. Pull out a fibre and light it. If it smells like burnt hair, or a feather, then it's genuine. If it melts and smells then it's artifical.

The 3 main makers of carpets are from Turkey (Marocco), Kashmir(Persia) and India. The most important thing to look for when buying a carpet (apart from colour and pattern, and material) are the types of knot. A Turkish carpet uses an 'S' knot, an Indian carpet uses a 'U' knot, and a Kashmire carpet uses a figure '8' knot. Hence it is much stronger, and harder to pull out the fibre.

Kashmire carpets come in different qualties, and that depends mainly on how many knots are (hand) tied per square inch. The knots for silk carpets vary from maximum 600 knots per square inch to 256 per sq inch. The knots for wool carpets vary from 324 knots per sq inch to 200 knots per sq inch.

Therefore it takes a loan carpet weaver 4 and a half years to weave a 6 foot by 9 foot silk carpet at 600 knots per sq inch (highest quality). The weaver in the picture is working on a top quality carpet (6ft - 4ft), and it will take him around 2 years.......8 hours a day. The photo shows a typical Moughal (windowed) design; very similar to decorations in the Taj Mahal.

How do I know all this? It's been really useful to always carry a notebook and pen; from reccommend places to visit ; noting down personal addresses etc...

And how does the weaver remember the pattern? Up until this morning I had no idea. For every carpet a detailed pattern id drawn, and from that pattern a complexed code is drawn up. similar to a book; where each line represents one line of weave in the carpet. I asked the salesman if I coulld grovel behind the weaving device, and I was rewarded by finding a 50cm coded page from 100 years ago. A good souvenir, and a very, very interesting morning.

Last blog.....I think until Leh, unless of course a gipsy in the mountains has computer and internet connection. I just don't think so.

Mughal garden Shalimar

Friday..... a quieter day. Advised not a good idea to enter town as there are religious demonstrations and srikes. This is prayer day.
Spent the morning working on plans for the next 2 weeks or so, and have decided to continue our search to see the 'real India'. So on Sunday morning it is off to live in gypsy villages in the mountains. The idea is to spend 10 days moving from village to village until we reach Leh; the capital of Ladakh. Here we hope to find the tranquilty, and silence that is difficult to find in towns and cities. The continual noise of car horns is tiring, and I mean tiring!
This afternoon walked what seemed to be half way around Lake Dal to reach the Moughal gardens. Ten roupee entrance fee, and well worth it, if only to escape the noise, and litter strewn streets. This whole area is referred to by Indians as paradise on earth. I can imagine why for those who escape Delhi and Calcutta. The gardens were packed with holidaying Indians, but for me the views of the snow capped peaks was exceptional.
Tomorrow will be last day here in Srinaga; so will visit a few temples, before packing and moving to the rustic life in the hills.

Therefore, I will have NO internet connection unti Leh.

Down Town Srinagar without guide

Thursday morning we find ourselves back in the old part of town, without guide, and feeling more relaxed, and happier to take things at our own pace. As we walk we are aware that we are objects of cuorisity to many; but within a short time we are approached by friendly Kashmires, who just wants to say' hello'. This is what we wanted!, and soon we are in the maze of back streets. Bearded muslim fanatics turn their heads as we approach, which we expected. In one of the side streets a man in his forties smiles at us and we strike up a conversation; all the time very aware that we have to keep moving. I make an excuse that we are going to buy some Chai, and straight away he invites us to visit his family nearby. Invitation kindly accepted, we follow him through narrow streets to his house.

As we approach you are aware that a few sheep are close by..... scarafice imminent. We climb up to the first floor, and he shortly returns from the kitchen with salted chai tea, and a plate of pancakes. Crossed legged we chat to him in broken English, play with his children, and meet his elderly mother. So very kind, and such a touching gesture. He informed me that we were the first Westerners he had seen in these back streets, and that our presence was appreciated. He told us that we were brave, but really wanted Westerners to come to Kashmir.

We continued our walking tour; took photos, climbed the large hill that overlooks the town to see a muslim shrine Hazrat Sultan Fort, escorted by a very friendly Kashmire woman who didn't speak a word of English.

After four hours we hailed a rickshaw. As he pulled over, an Indian soldier came over to his side shouting violently because he was parked badly. As the driver got back into his driving seat the soldier started for no reason kicking his thigh, and yelling abuse. This is how it is in Kashmir ! Beautiful scenery, friendly and open people living in a historically volatile region.

Video clip will be added when I have faster internet connection.

Old Town-Srinaga with local guide (1)

Wednesday's plan to walk around the old part of Srinagar....alone, was a bit of a failure. We obtained a local guy who knew all the back streets and the bizaar area like the back of his hand. Only problem was that he walked so fast, and wasn't eager to let us stop to meet people, and take shots.
After 30 minutes we returned by rickshaw to Nageen Lake, both feeling very frustrated.

So what happened to ruin the plan? The old part of town (referred to as Down Town) is full old delapidated wooden houses, a labarynth of narrow streets, and a number of steepled mosques, and our presence as westerners was not appreciated by the militants, and religious fanatics. Not a surprise!

In our very limited tour you felt that you were being observed, but many people wanted to make contact, but were basically afraid to do so; pyrinig eyes ever present. We were later told that the back streets we had attempted to enter were dangerous to westerners, and a situation could easily arrive from nowhere hence for the guide. We are close to Pakistan; an this fragile area is where the terrorists are eager to cause problems.
However, if you respect the people; don't push camera lenses in veiled womens faces, and be polite, then you feel safer. Of course near the mosques it is better to keep your distance when groups form to watch fanatical religious videos on large erected screens. The site of a young man without uniform, shouting and waving an AK47 outside Jamya Masjid mosque, is a clear indication; a) to get the hell out of there, and b) stay well in the open.

We will try again tomorrow, without a guide, and I'm sure we will be more successful in ' breaking the ice' with the people, religious fanatics or not.

Water lilies at dawn

At the crack of dawn Waseem the 'boat boy' was already up and about; preparing the boat for an early morning surprise (at no cost, and I guess as a gesture of apology to our strange welcoming to Srinaga).
No rain this morning as we set off from the lake's shore in great anticipation. After a few minutes tea was made, and we settled down for the half an hour journey to the sound of prayer calls. After passing under a bridge that devides Lake Nageen from Lake Dal we could see figures in the distance amongst the water lillies harvesting lotus roots.

Crossing the lake through the pearl laden Lily pads (large droplets of water suspended on their leaves); our boat was first approached by a flower seller, and shortly by a well wrapped up Kashmire on his way to the floating vegetable market with his fresh lotus roots.

What a sight to behold before 6a.m, some 40 vegetable sellers negotiating their prices, weaving their boats between themselves. Many photos taken as the sun appeared from behind the mountains. That was a special sight to see, ah! the smell of freshly cut corriander.

Lakes - Mountains - Gardens - Mosques

Tuesday..................................rain, and a day of recovery. Only ventured out in the side streets around the lake. Scavaging dogs in packs, open drains, piles of rotting waste and no sign of the mountains hidden in the low grey cloud.
Spent sometime reading travel guides, and chatting to fellow travellers , and kashmire's. All interesting, but a lot of conversation on the history of this region; the Silk Road in the north, the tensions between India and Pakistan, and the life here.

And of course, where there is water, there are boats, and for the next four or 5 days we will be living on one.

Delhi was hot, but here it's about 15 degrees, and very damp. No wonder the Kashmire's where a long baggy woollen type over dress called a 'Fairan', and when cold carry underneath it a woven willow branch basket holding a clay bowl, where slow burning willow charcoal burns slowly to provide heat. I need one of those...I have no other clothes other than the thin cottons from Delhi.

Went to sleep to the sound of more rain, and the prayers from two mosque's tannoy systems echoing across the lake. Magical!!!!

Wednesday it's a 4.30 a.m and off to visit a ........?

Not the welcome anticipated !!!!!!

After crossing into Kashmir the heavans opened; much cooler here than Delhi, and raining steadly. First impression: military everywhere, lush green vegetation, grey and drab colours, certainly completely different from Delhi.

As you approach Srinagar you cannot miss to see by the sides of the road, thousands and thousands of clean, shaped, and perfectly stacked piles of white timber wood. I have seen that shaped cut wood before, but couldn't remember from where. So curiosty got the better of me and I asked a Kashmire who said 'Canada, England and Kashmire are the main producers of....................................... wet land in the valleys, our national game. Bingo, cricket bats. The stacked wood seasoning for bats, and the saffron of Kashmire are world renowned, but I guess many associate this region with wars, carpets, and drugs; and rightly so.

The congested slow moving entry into town was noisy, wet and miserable as the stone cutters chipped a way at their headstone orders, and kitchen mortar and pestels. I just wanted to get out of this metal deathtrap, and could now start to physcially relax and plan the next moves......when suddenly the back door was flung open and a young man in his twenties jumped in, his partner doing the same at the front nearside door. Instant reaction was to grab our small bags, and then see how our driver reacted. He was lost for words. We were going nowhere. Stuck in traffic, anyhow after a threating exchange with the guy in the back who had demanded to know my nationality, and where I was staying; he finally realised that he was out numbered, and fled the scene. Strangely, not before saying 'Sorry'. Welcome to Kashmir...... this could be a very interesting visit to this mainly Muslim area.

Spectacular views at a price...Kashmir

Within ten minutes of leaving Jammu I had already pulled a muscle in my back, my head had hit the roof 20 odd times, and cramp was developing in my feet. These were the least of my worries.
The driver was in a hurry, or from my experiences from Delhi taxis and rickshaws they naturally drive like complete lunatics. Thank god we were in the back, at least we wouldn't see what was going to hit us. If we were hit there was a 99% chance it was going to be a scared cow, or one of the hundreds of overladen colourful lorries descending from the hills . Everyday these lorries crash on this only main road route to Srinaga, often chrashing hundreds of feet into the valleys below. The mountain scenery was breath taking, and made the pain and fear a little easier to handle.

After a hour or so we had the pleasure of the driver playing his favourite punjaby pop music at full volume, and playing on his mobile phone. This was looking rather dangerous. Several hours into the journey, one bloated dead cow at the edge of the road, monkeys everywhere; we then had our first near miss. These drivers overtake on blnid corners going up a hills, infact all the time. We soon found ourselves looking into the horn blowing front of a colourful lorry rapidly descending (probably with hardly any breaks), and subsequently skidded to the nearside of the road. One of the Indian passengers informed me that the driver was professional, and I had no need to worry. That made me think for awhile.

As we crossed into Kashmir we were taken from the jeep, armed soldiers at the ready to be questioned, and checked for our reasons for entering Kashmir. No problem, but all a paper exercise; we were waved through, and the thought of a few more hours in the back of the jeep was not good news to my already tired and aching body; sore head included, and ringing ears.

If going up was bad, descending the mountains was a nightmare. Every five minutes the driver rammed his breaks on, and the four back passengers (myself included) were literally hurled forward, and squashed. The only benefit of our opposite facing bench seats was that we would miss the pleasure of seeing who hit us.

A bumpy ride to Kashmir

Monday 17th arrived a Jammu railway station. No jeep outside as arranged, and in need of a hot cup of chai tea; (an aquired taste from Delhi) to collect thoughts and work out Plan B. Within minutes of finding my morning brew was acosted by several beggars. I have now become harder, and ignore..engage in conversation or stop, and your wallet will be a few rupees lighter.
Half an hour later after recovering from the journey I found the jeep station and managed to get a shared jeep to Srinagar. First quote given was 3500 rupees, but negotiated the journey for 500. Maybe I could have got it for 300...who knows.
Soon after leaving the almost militarised town I realised that this was going to be one bumpy ride. The roads were in the same league as the non-exsistent pavements of Delhi, and yes, we were truly squashed in the back. Nine on board for a 7 to 8 hour ride. This did not bode well; at all.

Delhi station.......to Jammu

I've never seen so many people at a railway station. Really an experience. First announcement on tannoy was informing passengers to a certain destination that their train was going to be 19 hours late. That was not what I wanted to hear.
Well thank heavans the train to Jammu left only 10 minutes late. Air conditioned sleeper Class AC2. Food was offered, and the journey went smoothly. I woke up at 6a.m , and opened the train door, and was just absorbed by the people I saw who lived in the semi desert starting their morning ablutions. Strange how simple sights can hold your attention.

At 7.30 a.m arrived Jammu. No jeep to meet outside. Slight problem starts.


The closer to Jammu; for miles the slums grew larger and larger

Chandi Chowk......open bicycle rickshaw

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Before heading for the railway station; time to kill for a tour around the muslim bazaar of Chandi Chowk.

The noise, the smell; the atmosphere gives you the impression that you have stepped back in time a hundred years. Goats and sheep roam the narrow back streets waiting to be scacrificed. Butchered meat hangs in full sunshine, and others prepare mutton stew.

Attention as always to crowded areas for pickpocks etc.... again whether Hindu or Muslim the people were approachable and friendly.

Sheep; and goats

Goodbye Delhi, heading to Jammu Kashmir

A great experience to have visited Delhi, and a rather harsh eye opener to the life in one of the large cities of India. 75% of the population of Delhi are poor, that's about 10 million. Despite poverty; despite the foul air; despite the heat; it was truly a good experience, but what made it were the friendly smiles from the poorest of the poor.

Video clip....back alley..New Delhi

Have just returned from another evening walk. Sand in my throat as alway,s and glad now to be out of the noise and dust. Hopefully this little clip will give you some idea of the continual activity in the back streets.

Again when filming another video clip I was surrounded by a group wanting to be photographed.......smiles all round.

Photos

In four days I must have taken around 500 photos. By the law of averages I'm going to have a few good ones worthy for the photo exhibition in Souillac in 2011. The majority of the photos already taken are every day typical shots, but I am always looking for that special angle; that special face, event that suddenly appears for a split second. I have at least 10 which I consider are worthy of displaying later.

So those of you who are interested in the general photos I will place them on Picasa on the web. Therefore when it is set up you will be given an invitation to view the album.

I would love to show you the good photos already taken, but you'll just have to wait.

Smiling Indians

I have walked miles and miles in the back streets of Delhi; so much now that I recognise people, and you have the feeling they recognise you also. In general the Indians I have encountered here are extremely friendly, and their beaming smiles and shining teeth are a pleasure to witness. They just love having their photographs taken; so much so that sometimes when I have found a good vantage point for my next shot, someone calls up to me 'take my photo'.So I descend, take their photo, and show them the playback photo which is always greeted with laughter. Delhi is great! You either love it here or hate it, but to see the real people wander down the back streets, drink tea, buy lichees, and try and communicate..........they really appreciate it!!!

Delhi wakes to dust and litter

I'm out and about at around 7a.m most mornings with camera to try and catch scenes of Delhi waking. Within minutes your throat is full of dust as the poor make an effort to sweep their roads. Dust is eveywhere and you cannot escape the pungent smell of urine evaporating as the morning temperature rapidyl rises.

Within seconds of being seen by street children, especially the 'shoe boys' you are then hasseled for money. The best solution is to be polite and just carry on walking; and eventually you find yourself alone, albeit for just a few minutes. It becomes very tiring.

Rubbish is littered everywhere, and the plastic bottle collectors with their sacks appear from nowhere to huntout the previous nights bounty.

I have the impression that here in India nearly everything is recycled, and recycled, and recycled just until it is impossible to find any useful use for an item. So the street collectors of plastic; tin cans; and paper all play an important role in keeping their environment ' a little bit cleaner than it might otherwise be without their services. The problem of street odour; urine, rotting food; and open drains just doesn't seem to be a problem, at least for the local inhabitants.

No sooner as some of the rubbish has been cleared the clouds of dust rise again as the rickshaws, scooters and cars fight between each other down the sweltering breathless narrow streets ( of course with horns blastering)

Bins don't exist here, and all rubbish is thrown on the streets. The first time I drank a Chia tea (plastic cup) at a stall I looked at the owner in a pathetic manner as to gesture for the bins location. He just jollted his head in an upward manner, which I correctly read was throw it down infront of my stall. On doing so I had a ping of guilt, but to my surprise he said 'it's Ok'. I now know why the streets are so rubbish strewn That's the way it is, and so now my empty cups and drinking bottles also litter Delhi's streets. In this respect forget the habits of the West. This is a different world here!!

Off to Kashmir........Pakistan

Two more days left here in Delhi, and of course lot's to see. I feel much happier blending in with the people; seeing life how it really is for the majority, and for the majority their etched faces say it all. It's a fight to survive here, and if you don't have any work you are left on the streets. You just cannot imagine the scenes of poverty and misery that you see on every street. Am I sad about it? No, not really; at the start yes, but this is India, and this is Delhi; a metropolis of some 15 million. After a few days nothing really shocks you, and in a way that is good, otherwise you couldn't stay in Delhi for long. Yes, of course you are always conscious of what you see, but with time it doesn't move you.

So where to next? The temperature here in June will be in the 50's, and it is heading that way already in Rajasthan, so further north it has to be, and what better place to spend the next weeks than in Kashmir. So on Sunday it will be night train 2AC class to Jammu, then a 7 hour jeep ride to Srinagar. Should, and repeat should arrive around 6 p.m on Monday. I believe the temperature in this region is around 20 degrees, and is springtime.

Have met a Kashmire who says it' s possible to get into Pakistan, but has to be at night. I will have to check out security risks, and take it from there. I would like to get to the Palosi Valley where John Burke took some of his photographs back in the 1880's, but it maybe too far in Pakistan and too much a risk., but we will see.

We will head to Ladakh, and cross the mountains to the capital Leh, just under the Himalaya Range.

The dogs have started fighting outside.......ear plugs at night are a good idea.

Haven't warn turban for 2 days, so am looking rather tanned; and look much older, but still passionate about this journey. There's so much to see.

Dogs - a man's best friend????

Dogs in Delhi are everywhere. People don't have pet dogs, full stop.
All the dogs I have seen are in poor condition.They live on the streets; scavange for food, and everyone just ignores them. Don't ever be tempted to pat one. If you do then there is a good chance that you wont live that long to have time to regret it.
Having said that I haven't yet seen one foaming at the mouth. Most are for better words crippiled, and how they survive in this heat is anyone's guess; but it's a sorry sight.

Lost in Delhi

Earlier this afternoon I managed to get lost for an hour of so in the maze of back streets. These narrow streets tend to be no more than 4 metres wide. What with dogs, motorbikes hundreds of people with their goods infront of their shack type shops.....easily done.
Some streets are cobblers or general shoe shops; others solely mechanical part shops, or even material shops. You have to have a good memory which one you have just walked down to find your bearings. After returning up a few familar streets; I was completely confused, and lost. I ended up flicking back through my camera to find a street scene with a landmark on it that I then showed to people to aid my way back. After 5 or so requests for aid someone kindly pointed me in the right direction.

But you learn the hard way. This evening I went to find a shop that sold salt. Within 30 minutes again I found myself lost; and I mean lost. At night, with all the dust, the continual noise; the fear of falling in a ditch, or being hit by rickshaws, cars etc I was more concerned. Another concern was the possibility of treading on a dog, and suffering the consequences.(I missed one by a few inches) The heat, pollution, and complete disorientation is a real test. Like other Indians I found myself spitting to clear my dry throat from the dust. I don't want to exagerate, but you have to be really careful. The strange thing is that as you are so occupied with what's immediately around you, you don't have the slightest concerns about being robbed. I guess everyone is so concentrated (of course in a more relaxed way than me), that danger doesn't enter your mind.

Well found my way back, sweating and covered in dust:::::::this time lesson learned!!!
Tomorrow is another day. Please Tim don't get lost.
I will try and attach a small video clip to give you some idea what it's like in the streets at night

Commonwealth Games October 2010

India or rather I should say Delhi will hold the Games in October. The centre of New Delhi and Old Delhi is undergoing a facelift.
How in a million years they will achieve this is anyone's guess. Impossible!!!!

The whole of Delhi is a dust bath; or rather a sand bath. The women; with their babies left lying on piles of sand in temperatures touching 70 degrees centigrade isn.t a pleasant sight to see!; and most probably for just a hadful of rupees; but yet they smile. Nearly everyone wants to be photographed, some for their pleasure, but the majority for a rupee or so. The problem being is within secons a 7 or 8 year old street kid will follow you for the next 30 minutes, begging, begging and begging. It's hard not to give in, but you can't give money all the time. Also I don't want poised photos for the exhibition.

The pavements are a death trap, that's if you can call them pavements. If you aren't really careful you'll break a leg or worse. How the pedestrian visitors will walk about safely is difficult to see happening before October.

Today here, never ending heat........it's getting a little difficult.

Delhi tourist sites......43 degrees centigrade

Didn't sleep that well last night......dogs fighting in street, and woken up with the muic of Delhi.....car horns.

My driver came at 9a.m, on the dot as usual. Very polite, very open, and gives plenty of advice about travelling North to Kashmir. My initial idea was to travel up to Jammou on the Pakistan border, and then head up to Srinagar , and later to Leh. Everything is cheaper in Leh (altitude 3505 metres), being the highest airport in the world; but cooler, but much cooler than Delhi. My driver has now informed me that Jammou is the first stop for terrorists crossing from Pakistan; and every week the Indian newspapers cover incidents there. So thinking cap on again, but must book either bus or train soon.....heading North.

Well back to tourists sites here. India gate, and the park surroundings are nice to see, but I prefer the life on the roads rather than being behind a group of European tourists fast exiting from their air conditioned bus for a 5 minute photo shoot.

Well, now having a rest before heading out into heat....fresh bottled water, coke, fruit juice needs to be bought. In this heat I have no real appetite, but must eat to keep energy levels high.

Driving in Delhi and pavements...forget it!

If you think driving around l'Arc de Triomphe is a nightmare, then experince Delhi. The rickshaw drivers, both motorised or pedalled have to fight with police barriers, dogs, motorbikes, cow drawn carts, pedestrians undertaking suicidal attempts to cross, and not to forget buses, and ice cream sellers.
There seem to be pavements here, but they are nearly all designed for hospital visits. Nearly all the shops (if you can call them that) have mini bridges across trenches a metre deep, and more often than not full of rubbish, and infested water. So I guess that everytime you venture out then it's possibly safer to walk amongst the traffic. No one respect roads signs. It's an incredible experience to be in a rickshaw at speed, and incredibly: you feel safe. The noise of the city is a continual racket of car horns. There's no car rage, and I haven't seen an accident............yet.

Photographs

On this blog I am showing a number of photographs. There is a photo to take here around every corner. However, the better photos will not be posted or sent to family and friends as they will be exhibited in our photo exhibition in July - August 2011.

Helping my rickshaw driver sort out a driving offense with a traffic police officer in Connaught area. It worked!!!

Tim gone native......Monkey mosque visited

So why dress like this?
This is not the best time to visit India, but this is not a quick visit. May and June here in Delhi are hot, and hot means hot; even for the Indians here. Daytime temperature is around 45 degrees centigrade, and as I write these words (11.30 p.m) the temperature is around 40 degrees. I was worried that I couldn.t take this heat before I arrived, but with lots of water; and Massala tea sold by street sellers for 20 rupees; I feel good. In the photo I have a face mask for two reasons , one being the dust, and the other for the foul odour in back streets.
These cotton clothes are perfect for these temperatures, and I wash them most evenings now; as by the end of the day after rickshaw journeys, and exploring back streets they don't stay clean for long.

Dressed like this I have only received compliments on the street. They feel touched for a better word that I have welcomed their culture. There is also the added advantage that I am less hassled by the street children begging for a rupee.

My rickshaw driver even took me to the Monkey mosque where 'priest' painted the traditional coloured spot on my forehead.

Early arrival in New Delhi

No shops open in the airport, and no scared cows, and no rupees. What now?
But what a feeling to be here, and thankfully feeling not too tired and eager to get outside. Collected luggage, and more than relieved to see my rather squashed possessions appear on the belt.

I found a small bank office about to open,and as I approached I was waved to another window by a money changer. This is how it's going to be from now on: eveyone is out for your business. Nevertheless I went to the bank, and changed euros for rupees, but of course was only given 1000 rupee notes. In India you must have small notes...10's, 5's. Just as I was leaving the airport I was handed a bottle of water (bottled water), immediately checked the cap was secure, and hadn't been re-filled with tap water. No, it was Ok, what a nice welcome to India I thought. Wrong......the kind offer was then withdrawn......and money was demanded. Welcome to India.
Outside the airport; rickshaws and taxis were everywhere, and after collecting my thoughts took a taxi into Delhi, of course after negotiating the price....;400 rupees.

The journey took about 20 minutes, and what a first impression as the sun was rising, and the poor appeared from their shelters by the road side. I must say from my experiences so far that the Indians here in Delhi are friendly and open; and they are interested in your plans, and not just for financial reasons.

The depart....Paris...Kuwait.....New Delhi

Spent the night in Monmatre, raining and very fresh, and feeling apprehensive for the long journey ahead:Left in the cold the following morning, and arrived at Roissy at 7am well in time for the flight at 9.45a.m.

For some reason the Kuwait Airways fight stopped in Rome where we waited an hour on the tarmac, but there was now no turning back, and the adventure had started. 5 hours later touched down in Kuwait. A welcome break to stretch the legs for 4 hours before taking the last flight to New Delhi .Brought some cigarettes at a quatre the price as sold in Europe (about 1.50 euros for 20).
Arrived in Delhi at 5a.m. From the descent this city looks big; and I mean big. But a perfect time to arrive as Delhi comes to life. No problems at immigration control; first impression was the temperature at that time of the morning.