I was by no means prepared for anything remotely resembling India – in particular, Delhi! I recall reading the same thing over and over again in my pre departure research; that nothing can prepare you for the smell of Delhi. But I also recall not taking much notice of this. I was too busy staring at images of temples and glorious Indian food markets etc. Only when you actually arrive in the city (following numerous near-death experiences in an antiquity of a taxi driven by an insanely nonchalant and bad driver) do you suddenly recall all of those small references to the tirade of a million assaults on your senses by the stench of cow, dog and human shit, rotting flesh and exhaust fumes, juxtaposed with a million and one pungent spices and blazing incense sticks all brought to an abusive simmer with the 50 degree heat that tortures your soul to within an inch of self capitulation. After arriving at our “hotel” we realised that we had been ripped off. Again! The lovely marble reception was a facade that hid the tyranny of various insects in the many nooks and crannies in our run down room which proudly smelt just like the rest of Delhi. We dumped the bags and escaped to a roof top cafe to meet the acquaintances we had just made at the airport. Once I successfully dodged the various cows, their shit, and everyone who wanted to sell me something, I entered a very narrow but tall building. It was 5 floors and was a hotel (apparently) that over looked an even narrower alleyway that seemed to be a hub of activity. I don’t mean there were many people walking up and down the alley. No – I saw entire families bathing with one bucket of water on the side, a shepherd herding a flock of animals (I think they were goats) and other such sites that you naturally expect to see in a big metropolis!
I clamoured up the steps to the roof where some newly familiar western faces were waiting. I still feel pissed off when I remember the air of calmness that surrounded everyone but me. They all seemed to be delighted by this “fantastic city” with all its “rustic charm” ... Bollox! I sat and began to sip the ice cold ginger, lemon and honey concoction that the waiter had insisted I try. It was horrible!! (But naturally everyone else was so delighted by its refreshing aroma that I ended up looking like an ungrateful twat). I opted for a SevenUp. Once the cold and sugary drink did the trick of soothing my emotional irritation, I turned to find a massive cannabis tree right behind me! (okay, it’s the only cannabis tree I had ever seen so I don’t have any others to compare but it looked pretty big to me). I asked the waiter if it was legal and he gave me that classic non-committal Indian headshake and walked off.
“What does that mean?” I said to my fellow westerners.
“It means he has no idea what you just said so he shook his head and went away” Came the sarcastic answer.
I realised I was beginning to offend people with my inability to adapt to the place instantly so from then onwards, I also adopted an air of tranquil graciousness. It was then that I realised none of these losers knew what the hell was going on but felt the need to pretend to each other, that they were in complete control. I left Delhi the next day.
The rest of India was much nicer and smelt considerably less! (Except for my hotel in Agra – but that’s for another rant)
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