caravanman
Engineer
IS THAT A 5 DOLLAR SHAKE YOU JUST ORDERED?
H. Nizamuddin station serves the south of Delhi, and it is where my Rajdhani from Trivandrum terminates.
Porters jump aboard the train even before it has come to a stop, and try to get your business. I was happy to accept the offer... there is a steep bridge to negotiate to reach the taxi rank. Haggling is required to get a fair price... The porter started at Rs 300, and we settled on Rs 100, probably still more than I should have paid, but worth it to me.
A taxi offer before we even get to the footbridge is a bit unofficial, once we get out of the station he suggests Rs 700 to get to my hotel near New Delhi station. A slightly long negotiation includes him suggesting I go to a different hotel, he will take me for "Indian price only" and he will get commission... (who will foot the bill for his commission I wonder quietly to myself?)
I got a taxi last year for Rs 250, so I was not going to pay more. Eventually he gave up on me, and one of the crowd of “helpers” said “I will take you for Rs 250” Great I think, I have won this small battle! Not so! He turns out to be an Auto Rickshaw driver, not a taxi. So I paid a taxi price in the end, for an Auto Rickshaw. India wins again!
Not a problem, I find auto rickshaw trips to be slightly terrifying, but never boring.
The drivers do have an amazing ability to find any tiny road space, to squeeze between cars and buses, and although it all seems chaotic, it kind of works well, mostly...
I was pleased to remember the location of the hotel, and after guiding the driver through the bazaar road, we arrived in due course. (Odd to be in due course, we were heading for Delhi...)
Check in straightforward, just the usual passport forms and signatures. “Pay when you check out”. Suits me!
I was shown an unsuitable room at first, but the second was much better... I can get the full benefit of the passing traffic honking every 30 seconds, in case I doze off...
Only joking, I tend to get used to the “neighbourhood hubbub” which recedes into the background almost unnoticed, except for the occasional shrill blast or a louder shout than normal.
The gent who shows me to my room asks if I require any beer, and I think, “why not?”, and order a couple of cold Kingfisher beers to put in the fridge for later. 10 minutes later, I feel much refreshed, having liberated the first one.
Arriving on Sunday evening, I just bought some bottled water and chilled out in the hotel.
Most museums and major monuments are closed on Mondays.
I took a walk through the main bazaar road up towards New Delhi train station, as I wanted to book some additional trips. I love all the variety of small shops selling brightly coloured tat. I called in to a money changer, but he wanted to deal in an unlighted dingy office, so I backed away from him. My second attempt was better, and I changed some sterling for only 13% less than I would have got before “Brexit”... Grrrr !
I was asked for my ticket by someone as I got near the station, and I recognised some scam in the offing. I simply told him to “F*** Off” and walked on. Good job he was not a plain clothes policeman!
Got my tickets sorted out at the tourist department, it was fairly busy which was a surprise, as it is still quite early in the tourist season.
I assisted several lost souls who did not know about taking a numbered ticket, and filling in the “carefully placed out of sight” forms. I only knew myself from my visit last year.
A great service to one and all would be a “greeter” who could point folk in the right direction from their arrival at the department.
Funny though, the folk I helped just ignored later arrivals, even though it was obvious they needed the same guidance... They probably thought it was this weird old bloke’s job!
I walked from the station into the centre of Delhi, Connaught Place, and tried to shelter from the sun under the colonnades of Mr. Lutyens grand design. I had a good walk around and then thought of food. I noticed a branch of the united coffee houses and stepped inside. Last year I ate at another branch, and became ill... I honestly don’t know that it was from that meal or not, but felt I needed to confront my fears of getting ill again head on.
I was expecting a snacky type place again, but this was very up market, with lovely chilly air conditioning.
Very varied menu, but rather pricey too. I had a most enjoyable meal, in the company of much posher folk than me, and of course, I did not get ill... I hope to go back again tomorrow.
I only had a small meal, and a bottle of water, very nice, but it cost almost as much as a night in my hotel... which is where the title of this comes in, from the film “Pulp Fiction”
when John Travolta is stunned by the price of a milk shake !
A well fed stroll back to the hotel and a few hours chilling. I had another wander around the streets nearby later, snapping many pics of all and sundry, then back to the hotel for a fairly early night.
Today I went to the National Rail Museum, by auto rickshaw. My third visit, I love the old relics rusting away in the sunshine! One can almost see how the mechanical beasts worked, the rods and cylinders, the engineering... Rather different from today’s sleek trains.
Another reason for this visit was to purchase the elusive Great Indian Railway Atlas, which I am pleased to say I accomplished.... Hmmm, now, where shall I go next... ?
Tomorrow I anticipate a small amount of culture, and a large lunch !
Cheers for reading, more to follow, after it happens...
H. Nizamuddin station serves the south of Delhi, and it is where my Rajdhani from Trivandrum terminates.
Porters jump aboard the train even before it has come to a stop, and try to get your business. I was happy to accept the offer... there is a steep bridge to negotiate to reach the taxi rank. Haggling is required to get a fair price... The porter started at Rs 300, and we settled on Rs 100, probably still more than I should have paid, but worth it to me.
A taxi offer before we even get to the footbridge is a bit unofficial, once we get out of the station he suggests Rs 700 to get to my hotel near New Delhi station. A slightly long negotiation includes him suggesting I go to a different hotel, he will take me for "Indian price only" and he will get commission... (who will foot the bill for his commission I wonder quietly to myself?)
I got a taxi last year for Rs 250, so I was not going to pay more. Eventually he gave up on me, and one of the crowd of “helpers” said “I will take you for Rs 250” Great I think, I have won this small battle! Not so! He turns out to be an Auto Rickshaw driver, not a taxi. So I paid a taxi price in the end, for an Auto Rickshaw. India wins again!
Not a problem, I find auto rickshaw trips to be slightly terrifying, but never boring.
The drivers do have an amazing ability to find any tiny road space, to squeeze between cars and buses, and although it all seems chaotic, it kind of works well, mostly...
I was pleased to remember the location of the hotel, and after guiding the driver through the bazaar road, we arrived in due course. (Odd to be in due course, we were heading for Delhi...)
Check in straightforward, just the usual passport forms and signatures. “Pay when you check out”. Suits me!
I was shown an unsuitable room at first, but the second was much better... I can get the full benefit of the passing traffic honking every 30 seconds, in case I doze off...
Only joking, I tend to get used to the “neighbourhood hubbub” which recedes into the background almost unnoticed, except for the occasional shrill blast or a louder shout than normal.
The gent who shows me to my room asks if I require any beer, and I think, “why not?”, and order a couple of cold Kingfisher beers to put in the fridge for later. 10 minutes later, I feel much refreshed, having liberated the first one.
Arriving on Sunday evening, I just bought some bottled water and chilled out in the hotel.
Most museums and major monuments are closed on Mondays.
I took a walk through the main bazaar road up towards New Delhi train station, as I wanted to book some additional trips. I love all the variety of small shops selling brightly coloured tat. I called in to a money changer, but he wanted to deal in an unlighted dingy office, so I backed away from him. My second attempt was better, and I changed some sterling for only 13% less than I would have got before “Brexit”... Grrrr !
I was asked for my ticket by someone as I got near the station, and I recognised some scam in the offing. I simply told him to “F*** Off” and walked on. Good job he was not a plain clothes policeman!
Got my tickets sorted out at the tourist department, it was fairly busy which was a surprise, as it is still quite early in the tourist season.
I assisted several lost souls who did not know about taking a numbered ticket, and filling in the “carefully placed out of sight” forms. I only knew myself from my visit last year.
A great service to one and all would be a “greeter” who could point folk in the right direction from their arrival at the department.
Funny though, the folk I helped just ignored later arrivals, even though it was obvious they needed the same guidance... They probably thought it was this weird old bloke’s job!
I walked from the station into the centre of Delhi, Connaught Place, and tried to shelter from the sun under the colonnades of Mr. Lutyens grand design. I had a good walk around and then thought of food. I noticed a branch of the united coffee houses and stepped inside. Last year I ate at another branch, and became ill... I honestly don’t know that it was from that meal or not, but felt I needed to confront my fears of getting ill again head on.
I was expecting a snacky type place again, but this was very up market, with lovely chilly air conditioning.
Very varied menu, but rather pricey too. I had a most enjoyable meal, in the company of much posher folk than me, and of course, I did not get ill... I hope to go back again tomorrow.
I only had a small meal, and a bottle of water, very nice, but it cost almost as much as a night in my hotel... which is where the title of this comes in, from the film “Pulp Fiction”
when John Travolta is stunned by the price of a milk shake !
A well fed stroll back to the hotel and a few hours chilling. I had another wander around the streets nearby later, snapping many pics of all and sundry, then back to the hotel for a fairly early night.
Today I went to the National Rail Museum, by auto rickshaw. My third visit, I love the old relics rusting away in the sunshine! One can almost see how the mechanical beasts worked, the rods and cylinders, the engineering... Rather different from today’s sleek trains.
Another reason for this visit was to purchase the elusive Great Indian Railway Atlas, which I am pleased to say I accomplished.... Hmmm, now, where shall I go next... ?
Tomorrow I anticipate a small amount of culture, and a large lunch !
Cheers for reading, more to follow, after it happens...