I was on a night flight to Delhi from London and having secured an aisle seat I was quick to order a couple of glasses of red wine, knowing that after having imbibed, I would sleep. Well, that’s what normally happens, but NOT on this occasion. It was impossible to get some shut-eye due to the persistent ding, ding, ding of the call bell, accompanied by a blue light overhead, which flashed in my peripheral vision. What people were demanding from the flight attendants was beyond me, but I sucked it up and could do nothing more than scowl at those who walked up and down the aisle for no apparent reason and chatted incessantly even when the lights were lowered. One woman actually did her yoga exercises at 3am by the emergency door!
A fellow traveller later mentioned that the plane was left in “carnage”, with debris scattered across the seats, in the aisles and even in the overhead lockers. I sympathised with the stewards and one replied in hushed sarcasm: ‘Welcome to Delhi’. And, I have to say, it did set the scene for my stay in India which is cacophonous and where litter is a huge problem.
Many of the streets, not only in Delhi but throughout India, are noisy, filled with people and unfortunately littered with discarded plastic bags, bottles and other non-biodegradable detritus. India’s population is nearing one and a half billion and in many places there is no infrastructure to deal with litter. It is swept into piles in some places, but unfortunately gathers on common ground and in the gutters.
Let me quickly add that the temples, the people’s houses, the hotels, the people themselves are very clean, pristine even, but the streets are not and I was somewhat grateful I’d decided to travel during the cooler month of January as the only smells were from the street food, cooked on nearly every corner and in every open café or restaurant, thus the aroma of spices wafted through the air, making me peckish, despite enjoying a good breakfast, lunch and dinner every day during my stay.
To see the busy streets of Delhi my fellow travellers and I were treated to a rickshaw ride. A two person carriage attached to a bicycle, which was tough going for the poor driver but a great way to navigate the back streets.
Dodging the traffic, pedestrians, dogs and cows which roam the streets freely, I sat back and took in the stunning colonial architecture and cacophony of horns, engines and multiple traders selling their wares.
India’s streets are thronged with cars, coaches, buses, motorbikes, scooters, lorries, tuk-tuks, the list of vehicles is endless. The lorries are multicoloured, decorated with garlands and painted with wonderful motifs of flowers or landscapes or whatever has taken the fancy of the owner, but I quickly noticed the major colours of the cars was black or white, very few in other colours. If I did spot a red or a blue car it was usually an older model.
To navigate the narrower streets quickly and efficiently we caught a tuk-tuk, which were usually green and yellow. They can be a wee bit cramped and rickety, not the most comfortable of rides. My old bones were shaken out of their sockets, but it’s a quick and cheap means of travel and I had to smile at the locals who just piled onto the three wheeled vehicles standing or sitting wherever they could.
For the most part I toured around India in a coach which was similar to ones I’d seen in various movies set in the 1920s with Bakelite fixtures and fittings. No heating, and the air conditioning was from overhead fans. These were not needed as the weather was reasonably mild, occasionally cold, but from the coach it was easy to see the plethora of small shops and cafés in the towns, always busy with people either selling or chatting or sitting outside, some even warming themselves by a small fire or brazier. These compare starkly with the huge car showrooms with large glass frontages and I was reminded of driving through Juliaca in Peru where the roads were equally unfinished, thronged with vehicles and lined with makeshift shops and cafés beside garish modern buildings.
Road signs are in four languages: Hindi, English, Punjabi and Urdu and driving out of Delhi we took the toll road towards Mumbai, some with as many as sixteen lanes. The toll roads have less traffic, probably because drivers have to pay, and we made good time.
In the early misty morning we passed by tall skyscrapers, office blocks and high-rise apartment buildings, but the landscape soon transformed into glorious countryside with fields of wheat, rape and mustard growing prolifically. Young men could even be seen playing a game of cricket on a makeshift pitch.
A fellow passenger and I were delighted to spot Massey Ferguson tractors, arguably one of the greatest vehicles ever built, and I now know where these fabulous farming machines dwell. Rarely do I see one in Ireland anymore, but they are going strong, working in the fields of India!
To light the fires the people use cowpats which can be seen stacked on reeds and wood, drying by the roadside. Huts of reeds and bamboo brought back my visit to Lake Titikaka in Peru as well as the brickworks, a huge source of industry outside the towns, necessary for the new buildings being constructed in urban areas.
A troop of monkeys frolicked in one of the car parks where we took a break and these primates could be seen sitting on the fences in many towns and villages. They do not seem to mix with the pigeons which are fed by the people as are the Brahmin cattle notable for the hump on their back. Dogs patrol the street and I recalled the “gangsta” dogs in Sri Lanka and I suspect the hounds in India were guarding property too.
Travelling in India is an experience and a half and I’m looking forward to going back, but NOT to the plane journey. However, ending on a more upbeat note, our travels included an hour long internal flight from Amritsar to India’s capital city. The passengers were more respectful and thoughtful of others. It was relatively quiet, with people reading or working on their tablets and a bottle of water and I can only hope my return international flight is as peaceful, not only for me, but for the flight attendants as well. I live in hope. Namaste!
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I mention a couple of places that came to mind whilst travelling around India.
Juliaca was a revelation in Peru, but my day on Lake Titikaka was well spent. To learn more please click on the links.
My guide in Sri Lanka had to navigate his way around the “gangsta” dogs which roam (and own) the streets. I wrote about my time spent on the roads in that beautiful country in this blog. Please click on the link and take a look.
To learn of my other experiences in India please click on the following links:
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