January 3rd
01.45. New Delhi. The airport was arranged and as we come out from the gates, we see our names on a piece of paper… But then it doesn’t quite match the picture we have of an airport pickup. The man who had our names left with two other tourists. We wait 20 minutes. Then he comes back and tells us to go to the taxi outside. We are nice girls and we go. There is only one man outside, so we follow him. Before continuing this story, you have to know that most guide books about India warns the traveller that New Delhi airport is full of fake taxis at night especially, who takes you to places that aren’t really safe for you. So, we follow the man and pass by the taxis towards nowhere. Perrine checks shee has her pocket knife somewhere close. We come close to a quite deserted parking place, few very strange men walking around. We decide to stop and talk with our man (small and skinny to our advantage) before we step in there. We ask him where we are going, to which hostel. He takes a bit of time, first saying that it doesn’t know. We are ready to go back to the airport. But then he says the password « hostel new king ». We follow him, still uncomfortable, but there was a chance on a million he could know we had booked this very hostel.
04.00 Hostel New king. Pahar Ganj (the bagpackers district and great bazar) at night is like a ghost city, with wandering dogs and trashes of the day left all over. Safe.
05.00 We drink the New Year’s beer bought in Stockholm, eat cheese and bread left from the trip. Sleep.
10.30 Wake up, shower with a bit of hot water. As we come down, the man at the desk (who knows some Finnish ‘Moi’ and ‘Moi moi’) tells us that our itinerary trip is not good. First we should stay in Delhi. Second, the Gange is not a place to go. We have to fall in love with the Indian paradise and go to live in Shrinagar in a family for 7 days. He could arrange everything. Life is too short to miss the best. We say that no, we want the Gange and we want to go from Delhi. He is not happy and let us sitting for a while, so we think about it. But we manage to check out and he tells us we should go to the Tourist Information Centre to get the train ticket. I twas the first but not last time we heard the key words Tourist Information Centre. Welcome to the Labyrinth.
11.00. Afraid of checking the map in the middle of the street – as we would expose ourselves to being noticed as « available pigeons » - we look at the way already in the guesthouse. Unfortunately, once outside, the real world doesn’t look like the ma pat all. And when we should have gone left on 200meters, we take the right side, for a good kilometer and a half. The first helpful man comes to rescue us with all the kindness he could find. Officially student inaroma therapy, he is actually working for one of these Tourist Information Centre which offers free maps, bus tickets to pretty much everywhere for 2 to 40 times he price… As we understand quickly (Cécile was informed by two friends who had experienced the free maps business in Delhi before), we turn away and ask another man, officially a nursing student, where is the railway station. And he smilingly takes us back to the very same Tourist Information Centre. Surprise, surprise.
11.30. We take out our map and find out where the hell is the train station. And we walk a long way, refusing rickshaws and helpful men. And we arrive at the railway station. About 20 meters away from the holy place, the following dialogue takes place
_ hello, he says
_ hello, we answer
_ Where are you going, he continues
_ We know, we reply
_ Do you have train tickets ?
_ Yes, we say
_ Then go through the checking with your tickets, and he shows where the checking happens
_ Mm mh, we muttered. We are on our way to buy the ticket here.
The man is happy, and starts a monologue « I work for the government » and he shows his official card. « You know it is very dangerous in Delhi. Many people, they come to cheat tourists, you know. But you can trust me, I work for the government. Do you have guidebook ? »
_ Yes, we say puzzled and take it out
The man takes it and starts walking away, still talking his monologue (too long to report, sorry). Concerned about our book we follow him running. He stops by a rickshows and put us in, showing on the guidebook the real Government held toursit information centre (which is real). He tells the rickshow to take us there, for our safety, because you know it is very dangerous in Delhi. Many people, they come to cheat tourists, you know. But you can trust me, I work for the government. 20 ruppies, you’re safe.
There is nothing to convince two lost Frenchies freshly arrived in Incredible India better than to create a feeling of danger. Fear is the key to cheat tourists.
And we arrived in Connaught Place, next to the supposedly official DTTC of Delhi. We step in, few men were there, the office was kind of strange – but maybe it was normal – and we were told “We are here for you, take a sit”. We are very obedient girls, we take a sit. The man tells us there is no place in the train, it is high tourist season, we have to wait 5 days or… rent a car for 12000 ruppies, because it cheaper than to stay 5 days in Delhi (which is fundamentally inaccurate, plus imagine Cécile driving in India between cows, crazy traffic, cars, bikes, buses, people, children, rickshaws, monkeys, the whole thing on the left side of the road). So say no, he says 8000 ruppies, we say no, he says 6000. We go out. He is very angry man…
Then a small elder man offers his help, he was working in a bank office and likes to help tourists during his lunch break. So he offers to take us to the real tourist office, because he is an old man, doesn’t commissions, he is honest and hates how bad guys take tourists around to cheat them. And he takes us after a very long walk aroung Connnaught Place to one Tourist Information Centre. This went on and on, with one doctor, two or three bank workers… Until we reach by ourselves THE ONE AND ONLY TOURIST OFFICE OF DELHI. The man is so unfriendly at the desk that we know immediately, he really works for the government. The key is: to buy tickets you have to go on the first floor of the train station, there is a fake and big one next to the station, but it’s fake. The first floor is the holy place.
15.00 We sit in the holy place ! We have the ticket, we are off in the night to Haridwar. Goodbye Delhi, we are so happy to leave.
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