| Submitted by: Mark R. Leeper and Evelyn C. Leeper United States |
| Submission Date: 07 February 2005 |
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Mark had to call Lonely Planet several
times to find out when it would become available. It was due in June, but
the boat from Hong Kong was late. We got the book on what we were told was
the very first day it was available. It has been out only about a month.
Makes a great conversation piece. Anyway, two Dutch medical students saw we
had it and asked to take a look at it. Meanwhile they told us about their
experiences and what was worth seeing. One hot tip was that Jaiselmer was
really beautiful and not well known. This did not help us a lot as we were
already planning on going there.
One thing was a little disheartening. They were doctors and according
to them the probability of getting sick on this trip was 100%. Everybody
gets sick. That's about what we were expecting. We hear a lot of different
theories about what is and is not safe to drink. We will probably stick to
mineral waters recommended in good hotels, Bisleri mineral water, a few
sodas if they look reputable, and tap water seasoned with iodine to kill the
little critters.
Incidentally, in the back corner of the Red Fort is a rather small but
nice museum, showing you the goods of the Moghuls: swords, armor, writings,
dinnerware, etc. Most of the historical information of the Red Fort resides
in that museum. The rest does not tell you much historically.
After the museum (and about two hours of sight-seeing), we went for a
cold drink. Mark got what turned out to be bottled mango juice. Evelyn got
lime soda. (These were Rs7 each.) We also got a bottle of Bisleri mineral
water for Rs15 to take with us. In fine print later we saw that it said,
Retail price not over Rs10.
Most of the tourists in the Red Fort were Indian. There were a fair
number of Europeans, probably some Americans, probably some Australians, and
no Japanese or Chinese. It's really unusual to go somewhere as a tourist
and not see Japanese tourists.
We left the Red Fort about 5 PM. Since you really can't get the feel
of Old Delhi (Shahjahanabad) from a regular taxi, Evelyn wanted to take a
cycle-rickshaw back to our hotel. It cost a little more than a taxi but it
puts you right in the middle of traffic, hanging on for dear life and having
a heck of a good time. It is basically a tricycle with two seats in back.
We were right there in the middle of it all--in this case, all was rush-
hour traffic, so it was even more all than usual. Evelyn observes, One
thing that struck me was the number of drivers who had religious objects in
or on their vehicles, though given the traffic, this might just be
considered an added precaution. One cycle-rickshaw driver even had an
incense burner with burning incense on the front of his cycle! Another
auto-rickshaw had a string of small peppers or other vegetables hanging from
the rear bumper. Many auto-rickshaws and taxis had garlands on the rear-
view mirror or pictures of Hindu gods on the dashboard. Horns were sounded
constantly. People changed lanes every few seconds, jockeying for position.
No, that's not quite accurate, because that assumes there actually *were*
lanes. It was more like a mass of traffic moving in the same general
direction.
Arriving back at our hotel, we had the usual delay in paying the
driver. He had originally asked for Rs50, we had offered Rs30, we settled
on Rs40, and we decided to pay Rs45. But he wouldn't take one of the Rs20
notes we had (it had a small tear) and seemed to feel that it was fair for
us to just give him an Rs50 note and not get change. He did work hard and
it seemed foolish to quibble over Rs5 (sixteen cents), so we paid him the
Rs50. It seems that one should have exact change, as getting change from
drivers is tough.
Neither of us was hungry for dinner so we cleaned up and read. Taking
a shower felt really good, as it had been very hot outside. Normally we
wouldn't have gone out between 2 PM and 4 PM, but that was the only time we
had for sight-seeing today. About 7:15 PM we got a taxi for the Sound and
Light Show back at the Red Fort. The concierge thought it should be about
Rs100, but the driver insisted on Rs120 because he couldn't park at the
fort, but would have to move the car and return later. So off we went into
a glare of headlights. Many of the streets have no streetlights, which
makes the headlights even harsher.
We arrived about an hour warly (the English-language show started at
8:30 PM). So we sat in the snack bar and had a couple more sodas (a Limca
and a Thums Up). Our other choice of activity was a cycle-rickshaw tour of
Old Delhi, as all the cycle-rickshaw drivers outside had tried to sell us
for the hour before the show. But that seems a bit risky, as cycle-
rickshaws have no headlights. It's hair-raising enough in the daytime--
Evelyn isn't sure most people we know would want to do it even then.
At 8 PM we bought our tickets (Rs10 each--there are also Rs5 seats, but
the Cadogan guide recommends the expensive seats and the seller
automatically chooses those for Western tourists in any case). We also
chatted with a couple who had just returned from Kashmir and were headed out
to Bangkok that night. (In fact, they had to leave before the end of the
show to catch their plane.) One was a nurse from Oregon who had been
bringing medicine to Kashmir. She had given some Indian Army officer a
piece of her mind about Kashmir and they had since been making her life
miserable with body searches and luggage checks. There is a big military
presence in Kashmir--India holds it, Pakistan claims it, and there is also a
faction wanting independence.
The Sound and Light Show was quite impressive, with good use of stereo
sound, although echoes off the buildings at times made it hard to
understand. There was even a shooting star, but we doubt that every show
has one. There were also lots of bugs; our insect repellent helped.
What you get in the Sound and Light Show is a one-hour history of India
(and in particular the Red Fort) from the time of the Fort's construction to
the time of Independence. The show closes with the Indian national anthem;
everyone is expected to stand.
After the show the cycle-rickshaw drivers tried to sell us a ride,
claiming the taxi driver couldn't come in to pick us up. But of course he
was there and we returned through heavy traffic back to our hotel. The
circus was just opening that night next to the Fort and so that may have
made the traffic worse.
We decided we really should eat something, so we went into the coffee
shop at the hotel and ordered two vegetarian thalis. They were Rs75
(US$2.50) each, but were the same size as cost four times as much as in the
United States. (Of course, later in the trip we would realize that this was
incredibly expensive for India, but what did we know?) Evelyn also threw
caution to the winds and had a lassi, saying that if we didn't drink
anything we had been warned against by someone, we would die of thirst.
Even the bottled water has its nay-sayers.
We went to sleep about 11 PM. Evelyn slept for a couple of hours, then
lay half awake and half asleep for another three before falling asleep
again.
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Mark's alarm woke him at 6:15 AM and it felt to him
a lot like 6:15 AM. He felt like having a good Southern-style breakfast and
they had uttapam and sambar on the menu. Uttapam is like a spicy pancake
with vegetable and peppers embedded. Sambar is a spicy soup. Evelyn had
the more mundane porridge and coffee. Checking out took longer than we
expected, since our credit card was too thin for their machine and the
imprint wasn't coming through. Finally they stuck a couple of pieces of
paper under it and got it to work. Everything seems to take longer here and
always for totally unexpected reasons.
In the taxi on the way to the airport, Evelyn realized she was
definitely a city girl--she found herself wondering anyone owned the cows
in the street and who milked them, but of course cows need to be milked only
when they're domesticated; wild animals manage quite well without people.
It was Sunday, so a lot was closed, especially this early. We drove
down a street seemingly devoted entirely to tire stores. On top of all the
roofs were piles of old tires of all sizes, having one thing in common: a
partial or total lack of tread. The taxi fare was only Rs150 because the
domestic airport is six miles (nine kilometers) closer than the
international one. (The domestic airport, Palaam, used to be the airport
for all flights before they built the new one.)
Palaam Airport was a trip in itself. We looked up the gate and went
straight to it where there was a queue waiting to have their tickets
checked. When we got to the front we were told we had to get boarding
passes. So we went to a ticket window and stood in queue. We finally
worked our way forward. It took about ten minutes to get boarding passes
printed. Most of that time the man behind the desk was apparently waiting
for somebody to do the manual task of assigning the seat. Finally we got
the pass and went back to the gate. We gave them our luggage and it went
through the X-rays. They checked us for metal. Now as Mark says, I was
wearing a photo vest with lots of pockets and each of them had metal. It
made quite a pile. They had me take the batteries out of everything,
including my palmtop computer. (It has a hidden battery to preserve the
memory for a while, but I was desperate to get the batteries back into it as
soon as possible.) They also insisted I take the batteries out of a
flashlight they had given me at work for giving blood and which I had been
unable to find a way to open before. I was desperately fiddling with it,
and as necessity is the mother of invention, I actually discovered how to
get the two halves to slide apart. Finally I passed the metal checks and
put the metal objects (such as film which had the metal cylinder around the
film itself, pens, etc.) back. Just about everything seems to have metal
somewhere. Their detector even found some pills in a plastic bubble pack
with a foil backing. You never know when some terrorist is going to hijack
a plane with two square inches of aluminum foil. Luckily I did not have the
lamb last night. With the iron it would have put in my blood I might never
have passed the physical.
Next we took all the batteries to a security table and stacked them up.
They had Mark open his suitcase and take everything (and we mean
*everything*) out. They found his spare batteries. They clearly did not
trust anyone who carried so many batteries. Mark had to check his luggage.
So he put the batteries into his suitcase, locked it up, and went back to
the ticket line. He was next in line when an Indian pushed him aside and
put his ticket on the counter. Mark protested a little but the man behind
the counter took his ticket. So Mark waited until his transaction was over.
He got up to the front and was told the bag had to be X-rayed. Another
queue. He got it X-rayed and returned to the ticket queue. For some reason
they had to print a whole new boarding pass. Finally he went back to the
gate. Again he had his boarding pass checked. Again there was a body
search. (Let us be fair. This body search was a lot faster than the first.
Both were thorough, but this one wasn't punitive. Bless you, sir.) Mark
rejoined Evelyn. Then he had to go out and identify as his the bag they had
just taken from him five minutes earlier. Finally he was ready to wait for
our plane. The impression we are getting from other tourists is that while
India is anxious for and needs tourists, the military is not so sure. |
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