First impressions of India

When researching a trip to India, as a first timer, you of course realise that it is going to be a significant culture shock in terms of population, poverty, the possibility of the dreaded Delhi belly etc etc, but you are not quite sure of how you will react and cope when you arrive. To my benefit, Silvia had been there before, thus I had more of an insight. Having been in India for a few days now, I must admit that I have felt a range of emotions; from awe while visiting the Taj Mahal to complete and utter frustration while negotiating prices for  tuks tuks; from confusion to joy and many many others in between. But, upon reflection, it was always going to be like this and, I guess this is a part of India's charm.
I don't know how many times we have said "no thanks" to locals demanding money with offers of postcards; viewing dancing monkeys; snake charmers; miniature chess boards; musical instruments and our old favourite of I will take you to this shop which only sells authentic stuff, and being driven to the point of aggrevation. But once again I expected that. What I didn't expect however, was the amazing vibrant colours of India as well as the sheer magnificance of the sights. All have been well above what I would have imagined. When you are within these sights you soak it all in and are constantly taking photos, but when you leave reality hits again and you have to deal with masses of humanity, many people sleeping on footpaths or beggars pushing through traffic and tapping on your car window seeking money. And don't get me started on tipping.
In essence, India is obviously not an ideal tour destination for everyone, but seemingly, with a great deal of patience and an acceptance of the fact that "it is what it is" then the rewards can certainly make it a memorable experience.

On our way to Rajasthan

At a rest stop between Fatehpur Sikri and Jaipur we order chai and lassi.
Seeing the Taj for the second time was just as exciting as the first time.
Even though when you actually go to India after having dreamt about it for your whole life, you find out that that type of architecture is actually quite common, when you visit at least a couple of the major cities you see that building a whole palace and dedicating it to a significant other is also quite customary between kings and the like, and finally when you get out in the country side you start thinking the milk in your chai might have had a kick to it since you start seeing Taj Mahal's everywhere, as there's almost an unlimited number of monuments, temples and palaces very similar to the original one.
But even if you sum all this up and you know about it the second time you go there, you still can't help falling in love over and over again for that wonderful, magnificent piece of art.
This love is by myself expressed by taking millions of photos that I will then have to edit and probably just save in an HD and work on them when back home.
Now, theoretically they tell you there's no problems with taking photos of the Taj, provided you don't take photos inside.
Which is true of course once you're finally on your own and not weighed down by eager guides that want to tell you the finest and most unusual details about the construction, while the only thing you're thinking of right then is how the light is just perfect and why doesn't he finish already!!
Our guide doesn't understand why I'm so nervous during his explanation and I start agonising while I watch the light growing fainter and fainter... switching the aperture of my camera to lower numbers and debating whether I should just crank up the ISO.
"Any questions?", "NO!" I yell before Steve has the chance of thinking of anything he might want to ask.
"Ok the, now we go inside"..... "Errr.... inside? hummmm, ahhh, how about you go Steve and I catch up with you guys?".
Finally free! I rush to the steps, get rid of my shoes without even paying attention to where they land and climb up the first level.
And then my freedom ends quite abruptly.
"Madame can we take a picture of you?"
Why on earth would anyone want to take a photo of a scruffy looking, sunburnt, yellow-haired white woman wearing extra baggy pants, no make up and lugging around a heavy duty camera I don't know.
But I must now be on at least 300 Indian mobile phone's wallpaper.
After a dozen photos I understand I'm the only tourist from outside India and some of the little girls staring open mouthed at me must come from remote parts of India since it's school holidays here and they might have never seen my features (otherwise quite common, albeit not very Italian).
Anyway between a shot and a smile I manage to take a few photos as well, and by the end of the evening I'm happy with them.
And the photo below is the result of an experimental panorama.

  

The TAJ!!!!!!

The "Cricket question"

When you’re traveling in India and you come from a commonwealth country you will be presented sooner or later with.... THE CRICKET QUESTION!!!!

It’s not a specific question, it’s just a generic remark about cricket that is dropped on you quite casually but that every man knows it’s a test in disguise.

You wouldn’t believe the amount of politics, religion, economics and more generally life involved in an argument about cricket.

In order not to lose face you have to show that: 

1. you know all the names of the players of your country (that’s an easy one isn’t it? NOPE! Since you have to know the names of the current players but you also have the know the names of legends of the past, good ones and bad ones)

2. you know all the scandal related to those players (sex, money, etc...)

3. you have to know all the teams they’ve been playing for and all the tournaments they were in and if they were not in you have to know why.

4. and now the most difficult part.... you have to know all of the above... for the Indian team! Not only that but you have to know the correct pronunciation of the Indian names and you have to know the Indian pronunciation of the players of your country!

If you think it’s easy you should have seen the look of concentration on Steve’s face when he was interrogated by our car driver!

But no fear cause he knows his stuff my man and he passed with flying colours!

Delhi! very very NEW Delhi

In our honeymoon suite at the Royal Palace Hotel in New Delhi we feel really out of place.

We arrived with a Tata car, granted, with a private driver, but still not the biggest car in the world.

At the gate they checked the bottom of the car with a mirror to see if we were bringing in bombs or stuff like that.

Someone opened the door for me and when I looked up I saw this giant with a black turban, moustaches curled up and a scimitar along his side who looked down at me (I might have shrunk in the meanwhile) and said “Welcome to the Royal Palace madame”.

I think I mumbled a thank you and then I rushed to the door, but I realized that I had to go through security again so I turned back and rushed through the metal detector of course forgetting to give in the bag and therefore setting off all sorts of alarms.

I’ve frequently been to business hotels, where luxury meant excellent business facilities, wi-fi in the room, flexible hours and conference rooms with beamers and stuff.

But I’ve never been to a hotel where you’re greeted by one of the few famous Sikh guards (I forgot the name) with a huge spear down his side.

Besides we certainly didn’t ask for the honeymoon suite, we’ve milked that cow long enough now, but this is all due to the lack of western tourists in this season.

We don’t really know the price of the room but I’m sure our agency could get for half the normal price.

Anyway, after we sipped our welcome cocktail and we were given the red dot on our foreheads, we changed into comfortable clothes and proceeded to meet with our tour guide for today. We were told he was a “very old man, that knows everything about Delhi”, instead we met with a nice man in his early fifties with amazingly white hair and a very expressive face.

In 7 hours of sightseeing we managed to squeeze in: the Presidential Palace, The Red Fort, Jama Masjid, Chandni Chowk, Raj Ghat, India Gate, The eternal Ghandi Museum, Qtub Minar, a textiles and handicrafts factory and, on our request, the Guru Nanak Sikh Temple.

It’s certainly a lot to take in one day, but what an experience!

I look at Steve to see if the first impact with India has left him confused, bewildered, shocked, impressed.... as I was told I would have felt the first time I came here, but since I really wasn’t that shocked because of my previous travels, I expect Steve to be on the same line.

Now that we’re back at the hotel we’ll finally have time to talk about it.

What IS shocking is not Delhi in itself, but the incredible gap between the Old Delhi and the New Delhi, it's like two different countries altogether! New Delhi has been built by the British and it goes according to their standards, long and very wide lanes gathering the very well disciplined traffic (no horns, doesn't even sound like asia at all!), little if no pollution at all, perfect buildings with nice decorations and chalk white clean facades.

Old Delhi is ... well, Delhi! With the sounds, the smells, the traffic, the pollution, the humanity, but oh so beautiful in its imperfections, its flaws making a statement of vivacity and secularity.

If New Delhi is calm and diligent, in a word a bit dull albeit with colonial majesty, Old Delhi is vibrant, captivating and demanding. Experiencing Old Delhi requires guts, but that's what we love in a holiday.

Bakhtapur!

the latest photos from Patan, Nepal

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here's the last photos from Patan