After Christmas Day Mass, it was definitely time for breakfast. We stopped back by the hotel to finish getting ready, and then set off for some street food (the complimentary breakfast having finished at 10).
At this time, I asked our friendly concierge why-oh-why the limpets kept clinging to us so steadfastly and telling us that hotel taxis were not safe and could not be trusted. He laughed ruefully, and told us that the so-called "Government Tourist Offices" had nothing to do with the Indian Government, but were a scam against tourists. So the deal is that these scammers worked on commission. They would lure unsuspecting tourists to one of their "travel agencies" that would then book a HUGELY inflated tour. He showed us a video one of their clients who had been subject to an incredibly elaborate scam involving two agents at the train station, a rickshaw driver, and at least three more people in other locations. Quite impressive.
I also asked how much we should pay a tuk-tuk driver to get to the Red Fort. He said maximum 100 rupees per tuk-tuk. Armed with our information, we headed for the alley where the church was located...because I had also noted several different street food vendors there. The first fellow wanted too much for his chapatis, so we went down a stall or two and asked for some samosas. Ten rupees each (15 cents). We'll have seven, please! Oh, and gulab jamun? Give us four and we'll be happy campers. Is it okay if we all cram in here and eat beside the counter? Oh, go upstairs? Okay, then!
We went up incredibly steep and narrow stairs that curved around (open to the top floor; no safety railing) and found ourselves in a small space with four tables. Collaring two of the tables, we awaited our order. A friendly fellow came up, armed with dipping sauce), and we tucked in. Let me tell you, those were some of the finest samosas I have ever had. And the gulab jamun was outstanding.
Feeling sated, it was time to approach the tuk-tuk drivers. The first one I came to told me 150 rupees. I told him quite happily that the hotel manager had said a maximum of 100. "Okay, fine" (after some consultation with the second driver). On our way, the driver of the tuk-tuk we were in picked up a friend. When we arrived at a rather crazy intersection, they stopped and said that the Red Fort was just around the corner, a short walk away. Having paid them off, we strode up in the way we'd been told and saw nothing promising. I asked some armed guards, and they said, "Red Fort? Red Fort?" ... at which point, I knew we had a problem. They ended up deciding it was 2-3 km away in a particular direction, and offered to help us with ground transportation. We had had quite enough of that for the moment, and besides, we were in the Chandni Chowk market (also on our list, but for the afternoon). No problem, we would invert the itinerary.
Coming up to a traffic circle, we heard loudspeakers and what sounded like political posturing. We think, but are not sure, that there was some sort of rally (possibly for the Indian Nationalist Party? according to Michael, since they were wearing orange turbans). Then we moved through a cadre of motorcycle cops (two per motorcycle) wielding batons. Big thumping sticks, not sparkly things that cheerleaders toss.
Then we realized: there was a parade to come! We saw musicians in burgundy velvet, floats, school children, and more. This is when it first took a turn for the weird: rather than our watching the performers, they were eyeing us. Many kids came over to shake our hands and say hello, with a fascinated look in their eyes. Could there really be that few anglos/Europeans in Delhi? Apparently so, as seen in later encounters.
We had a delightful time in the Chandni Chowk (including a snack of puri and chick peas, where the chick peas were sculpted into an 18"-high-mound, and the puri were fried before your eyes), and after
HOURS made it to the Red Fort.
The ticket purchase was an interesting experience: men went in one line, and women in another. As luck would have it, it wasn't labeled and I was completely unobservant (although not the only woman in the line). A security guard came up to us and said, "no line, no line" but at this point I'm as leery of uniforms as of anyone else, based on the information I've had about scammers. He led me over to the bottom of the steps next to the women's line and gestured to the left. But the only thing there was the men's kiosk!
Did he expect me to cut in line in front of the native women? Not happening. I looked a bit more and then saw the label: "Tickets for foreigners." Okay, fine. And, no, there wasn't a line. So I zipped up there and found some rather flummoxed individuals who appeared never to have sold tickets to foreigners before. That'll be 250 rupees (for what it's worth, tickets for citizens are 10 rupees). Since 250 rupees is less than $4 a ticket, it was not exactly a hardship. Oh, and if you're less than 15, you don't pay.
The Red Fort was built by a Moghul emperor in 1650 or so, and is largely built from red sandstone, hence its name.
It is actually a rather large campus, with gardens, museums, and so on. Getting there as late in the day as we had, we were already feeling fatigued, but we went through one of the museums. And this was where it got really strange. As Florence later put it, "I'm used to being a tourist, but I'm NOT used to being a tourist attraction!" People stared, wanted to have their photos taken with us, handed the kids their babies to hold while being photographed. It was ratherdisconcerting to see schoolchildren practically forming a line (or a crush, anyway) to have their photo taken with the kids. Serious paparazzi action going on.
Having escaped from there, we decided to go to the Jima Masjid, a Moslem mosque that was nearby. The honking, noise, and general over-stimulation had had their toll on Florence, so we got one tuk-tuk load and went home, while the others went to the mosque. Unfortunately, as it turned out, they got there too late (within an hour of sunset) to see it, so they arrived home nearly simultaneously with us.
Love,
Alexandra
At this time, I asked our friendly concierge why-oh-why the limpets kept clinging to us so steadfastly and telling us that hotel taxis were not safe and could not be trusted. He laughed ruefully, and told us that the so-called "Government Tourist Offices" had nothing to do with the Indian Government, but were a scam against tourists. So the deal is that these scammers worked on commission. They would lure unsuspecting tourists to one of their "travel agencies" that would then book a HUGELY inflated tour. He showed us a video one of their clients who had been subject to an incredibly elaborate scam involving two agents at the train station, a rickshaw driver, and at least three more people in other locations. Quite impressive.
I also asked how much we should pay a tuk-tuk driver to get to the Red Fort. He said maximum 100 rupees per tuk-tuk. Armed with our information, we headed for the alley where the church was located...because I had also noted several different street food vendors there. The first fellow wanted too much for his chapatis, so we went down a stall or two and asked for some samosas. Ten rupees each (15 cents). We'll have seven, please! Oh, and gulab jamun? Give us four and we'll be happy campers. Is it okay if we all cram in here and eat beside the counter? Oh, go upstairs? Okay, then!
We went up incredibly steep and narrow stairs that curved around (open to the top floor; no safety railing) and found ourselves in a small space with four tables. Collaring two of the tables, we awaited our order. A friendly fellow came up, armed with dipping sauce), and we tucked in. Let me tell you, those were some of the finest samosas I have ever had. And the gulab jamun was outstanding.
Feeling sated, it was time to approach the tuk-tuk drivers. The first one I came to told me 150 rupees. I told him quite happily that the hotel manager had said a maximum of 100. "Okay, fine" (after some consultation with the second driver). On our way, the driver of the tuk-tuk we were in picked up a friend. When we arrived at a rather crazy intersection, they stopped and said that the Red Fort was just around the corner, a short walk away. Having paid them off, we strode up in the way we'd been told and saw nothing promising. I asked some armed guards, and they said, "Red Fort? Red Fort?" ... at which point, I knew we had a problem. They ended up deciding it was 2-3 km away in a particular direction, and offered to help us with ground transportation. We had had quite enough of that for the moment, and besides, we were in the Chandni Chowk market (also on our list, but for the afternoon). No problem, we would invert the itinerary.
Coming up to a traffic circle, we heard loudspeakers and what sounded like political posturing. We think, but are not sure, that there was some sort of rally (possibly for the Indian Nationalist Party? according to Michael, since they were wearing orange turbans). Then we moved through a cadre of motorcycle cops (two per motorcycle) wielding batons. Big thumping sticks, not sparkly things that cheerleaders toss. |
| Parade queen? |
Then we realized: there was a parade to come! We saw musicians in burgundy velvet, floats, school children, and more. This is when it first took a turn for the weird: rather than our watching the performers, they were eyeing us. Many kids came over to shake our hands and say hello, with a fascinated look in their eyes. Could there really be that few anglos/Europeans in Delhi? Apparently so, as seen in later encounters.
 |
| These snacks were handed to us from a cardboard box |
 |
| We regularly saw people carrying loads on their heads. |
We had a delightful time in the Chandni Chowk (including a snack of puri and chick peas, where the chick peas were sculpted into an 18"-high-mound, and the puri were fried before your eyes), and afterHOURS made it to the Red Fort.
 |
| We liked these seed pods...about 2 feet long! |
 |
| Detail on Red Fort |
The ticket purchase was an interesting experience: men went in one line, and women in another. As luck would have it, it wasn't labeled and I was completely unobservant (although not the only woman in the line). A security guard came up to us and said, "no line, no line" but at this point I'm as leery of uniforms as of anyone else, based on the information I've had about scammers. He led me over to the bottom of the steps next to the women's line and gestured to the left. But the only thing there was the men's kiosk!
Did he expect me to cut in line in front of the native women? Not happening. I looked a bit more and then saw the label: "Tickets for foreigners." Okay, fine. And, no, there wasn't a line. So I zipped up there and found some rather flummoxed individuals who appeared never to have sold tickets to foreigners before. That'll be 250 rupees (for what it's worth, tickets for citizens are 10 rupees). Since 250 rupees is less than $4 a ticket, it was not exactly a hardship. Oh, and if you're less than 15, you don't pay.The Red Fort was built by a Moghul emperor in 1650 or so, and is largely built from red sandstone, hence its name.
It is actually a rather large campus, with gardens, museums, and so on. Getting there as late in the day as we had, we were already feeling fatigued, but we went through one of the museums. And this was where it got really strange. As Florence later put it, "I'm used to being a tourist, but I'm NOT used to being a tourist attraction!" People stared, wanted to have their photos taken with us, handed the kids their babies to hold while being photographed. It was ratherdisconcerting to see schoolchildren practically forming a line (or a crush, anyway) to have their photo taken with the kids. Serious paparazzi action going on.
 |
| We were all enchanted by these "squir-munks"... looked like chipmunks, but acted like squirrels. Plus, they had a fuzzy tail. |
 |
| Green parakeets. And they were SERIOUSLY green in the light! |
 |
| The kids posing with other kids |
 |
| Florence posing |
Having escaped from there, we decided to go to the Jima Masjid, a Moslem mosque that was nearby. The honking, noise, and general over-stimulation had had their toll on Florence, so we got one tuk-tuk load and went home, while the others went to the mosque. Unfortunately, as it turned out, they got there too late (within an hour of sunset) to see it, so they arrived home nearly simultaneously with us.
Love,
Alexandra
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