Day 2 - Indelible Memories

11:00
I’m in the back of a cab, barging its way through traffic on the highway into New Delhi. I can’t remember how many times I did this journey - to the city or to the airport in 2007, but it was a LOT. Leaving the airport, memories start to come flooding back, and they’re not all pleasant ones.

Flight was a breeze. Shorter than advertised though, which means I’ve only had a handful of hours of sleep. I’ve a 6 hour train journey later, so will try to catch up a bit.

One thing I’ve definitely not missed about India is the glacial pace of bureaucracy. India has (relatively) recently implemented an eVisa system, not dissimilar to the USA’s ESTA programme. At the immigration queue, each and every passenger takes around 5 minutes for the guard to check. How and why, I’m not sure. Apparently there are biometric gates on the way, but they’re not here yet. What should take 20 minutes, takes an excruciating 90. When it’s finally FINALLY my turn, the immigration agent gives my passport a cursory glance, asks for my phone to see my visa, which is also allocated a cursory glance, takes my fingerprints, stamps my passport, and waves me through. Less than 90 seconds. What they’re doing the rest of the the time is beyond me.

Delhi is a polluted city, by any measure. The World Health Organisation have a pollution scale, where a score of 5 is considered good. Anything under 10 is fine, really. Brighton? 8.9. London? 9.2. Delhi? A slightly laughable / slightly scary 102.1 It’s not significantly worsened in the past 10-15 years, but neither has it improved. The traffic on the highway seems just as busy to me. On the plus side, the cars do seem newer, and thus (one would hope) slightly less polluting? As we creep into the city centre, the smog is palpable. There’s a distinct haze lurking over the city. I’m not here long enough to worry about air quality, but I’m glad of that…

12:30
Officially a bit weirded out now. In the weeks I was stuck in Delhi post-mugging, I spent much/most of the time I wasn’t trying to sort out new travel documents at a café / bar / restaurant called United Coffee House. It’s on Connaught Place, the hub of so much of New Delhi life. It’s also a convenient 15 minute walk from New Delhi train station, whence my train departs this afternoon. Sitting here, now, in UCH, is instantly being transported back to 2007. It hasn’t changed at all. It’s done out in a kind of quasi European grand café style, aided by the French music playing. By India standards, it’s an expensive place to hang out, but I distinctly recall that my mugging left me feeling animosity towards anything traditionally Indian, and I craved something that felt more like home. It only lasted a few days, but UCH was my comfort blanket at the time. I even remember the seat that I used to sit in, day in and day out, whilst I tried to rewrite my journal, which had been stolen along with my camera and passport. There’s someone sitting there today, otherwise I’d have grabbed it as a strange little tribute…

The last couple of miles to reach New Delhi station were the epitome of chaos. Cars/rickshaws driving the wrong way down the street; traffic police directing traffic in the exact opposite order than the traffic lights; pedestrians throwing themselves into the road. New Delhi station itself is equally chaotic. My driver drops me ‘somewhere’ and I proceed to try and work out how to get to the cloakroom, to leave my luggage for a few hours. It takes a few attempts, but I’m ultimately successful. I remember in 2007 I was apprehensive, perhaps overly so, of anyone who tried to talk to me. This was only at first, and on my initial arrival into Mumbai. That feeling is absent now. I’m unsure whether it’s simply good muscle memory from previous trips to India, or a general ease that comes with more experience travelling the world. It’s probably a bit of both. At the station, my beard garners several compliments, one of which suggests I look like Aladdin? Or was it Ali Ba-Ba?

Walking back down to Connaught Place, I’m asked every 10 seconds or so whether I want a tuk-tuk. I do not, and having politely declined the first few invitations, I quickly settle into a firmer, ‘No, no,’ accompanied by a firm shake of the head, which does the job. The weather is actually a very lovely 16C and sunny. January is mid-Winter in Delhi. The afternoon promises 22C, and overnight might get down as low as 7C. Walking through the sunshine, there’s a gentle warmth on my skin, that I’ve not felt since we were in Brazil back in October. The further South I go, the hotter it’ll get. Mid 30s in some places…

My first beer back on Indian soil is, of course, a Kingfisher. There are other domestic beers, but only Kingfisher tickles my pink bits. I’ll be interested to see if beer culture has changed much in the past decade. In the UK, I drink cider, IPA or stout. Over here, I’m expecting beering to be largely lager based. Manas, though, has told me that in some of the more cosmopolitan parts of India, there’s a burgeoning craft beer scene. Mumbai aside, I’m not sure how many of my planned stops count as cosmopolitan though…

16:15
From UCH, I wobble 5 mins around Connaught Place to Nizam’s - purveyors of the finest Kathi kebab rolls I’ve ever had. It’s busy - peak lunchtime trade. The whole menu is tantalising, but I’ve come here for one thing - a double mutton / double egg Kathi roll. Spiced goat shish kebab, yoghurt sauce, some shredded cabbage. A paratha has some egg liberally applied to it, before having the goat/yoghurt/cabbage situation wrapped up in it. The whole kit and caboodle is then fried on a plancha type thing. It is beyond brilliant - as good as I remember. Time is marching on. It’s 14:30, and my train is due to leave at 14:30.

NDLS is far busier than this morning. I pick up my rucksack, grab some train supplies at a little platform kiosk, and head to platform 9. The train is sitting at the platform, waiting for us. 15:30 comes and goes, and we’ve not been allowed to board. I ask a guard if he knows how long we’ll be delayed. He does a sort of combo of a shrug and a head wobble. The Indian head wobble could dominate an entire book, so loaded is it with nuance and complexity. The same physical gesture can mean any of:

1) Yes
2) No
3) Maybe
4) I don’t know
5) Good
6) Okay
7) I understand
8) I don't understand

I have yet to determine if there are idiosyncrasies that determine which of these is intended. My understanding to date is that it’s the same gesture, and it’s down to the recipient to decipher its intended meaning.

We board the train around 15:45. It’s warm on-board. The train will be air-conditioned once we get moving, or so I’m promised. I’m in a window seat. The train looks comfy enough. 4 seats across the carriage, with plenty of leg room. My hope is to get some sleep, as I’m properly jaded.

We finally get underway at 16:15, around 45 minutes later than scheduled. Manas is in Lucknow at the moment, and has incredibly kindly offered to meet my train, and drop me to my hotel. I ping him to let him know we’re already delayed, and that I’ll let him know if we make up any time. My experience with Indian trains suggests that, if anything, it’ll be the other way…

21:45
Well, I don’t think we’ve lost a ton more time, but we’ve not made any up either. Looks like we’ll be about 40 minutes late into Lucknow, which is not a disaster. I’v also managed to catch up on about 3 hours of sleep, which feels like a decent result. I certainly feel less like dogshit. The train’s been a cakewalk. I recall in 2007 initially thinking of a 7 hour train journey as a behemoth undertaking, and I guess in the UK it would be. By the end of my trip, it felt like the merest of puddle jumps. This is admittedly a fairly light introduction to my train trips over the next month. Nagpur to Goa’s the peak - 24 hours from Nagpur into Miraj, an 8 hour layover in Miraj, which is not much more than a train junction, then an 8 hour overnight train into Margao, 30 minutes drive from Patnem.

I’m conscious that I’ve not seen another white face since leaving the airport at 10:30 this morning. Not a one. I don’t know if January is typically a quieter month for Western travellers, or if numbers are just down from where they were 17 years ago. Time will tell. I don’t know what to expect in Lucknow as it’s new to me. Agra will be my first chance perhaps to take a more considered view. Agra was notably busy with tourists when I visited.

None of this is a bad thing BTW. I spend some time on the Lucknow train chatting to Kabir. He’s in his 30s, and heading home to see his family, having spent Christmas and New Year with his wife’s family in Gujarat. I ask if he’s Christian, but no - he’s one of countless Hindus who now celebrate Christmas annually. I ask him what to look out for in Lucknow, and he gives me some recommendations of things to see. Particularly, he names a few places to try Nawab cuisine, and specifically the mutton pulao so famous in Lucknow. I first saw this on a Rick Stein TV show about 10 years ago. I cannot WAIT to try this worldie of a dish.

In other news, I appear to be having one of my much rarer than they used to be but still utterly annoying when they happen arthritic flare ups. My left foot is not in a great way. Hopefully settle down overnight. Fatigue can be a trigger, so keeping fingers crossed that a decent night’s sleep helps reset…

23:45
The train finally rumbles in at 22:40, only 35 minutes late - not a bad result. Manas is waiting for me on the platform, bless him. It’s great to see him, to finally meet him. I recruited Manas to work at SHL a couple of years before I left. We worked very well together, but formed a stronger bond than that. We’ve remained closely in touch since I rage quit in the middle of 2022. A large part of why I’m in Lucknow is that it’s his hometown, and he’s here for a couple of days while I’m visiting. We’ll hook up around lunchtime tomorrow, and likely spend Friday together as well. We’ll also grab some time in Mumbai, where he’s now based, right at the end of my trip. Will be great to bookend a month of exploring…

My hotel is basic, clean, good value. Does everything I need it to. The top up sleep I managed on the train plus a little bit bit of jet lag means I’m not quite sleep ready just yet. I throw on a movie, and do some reading ahead of the rest of my journey…Читать далее