Today's plan includes shopping and a meet up. We start with a leisurely breakfast on the terrace and then take a stroll along to Racecourse Metro Station, except that is now called Lok Kalyan Marg, nothing like as easy to remember. Our smartcards are still live, as it is less than 365 days since we used them, and we top them up. We are planning to hit the market at Lajpat Nagar which involves a two stop ride towards the city centre, a change of train, and then a four stop ride south eastwards on a train with the implausible destination of Escorts Mujesar.
It is a short stroll from Lajpat Nagar Metro to the markets complex. We like this place as they keep nearly all of the motorbikes out and the vendors are friendly but not pushy. There are usually a few hawkers walking round with sunglasses and the like. This year's must have item is pyjama cord. As usual, when go market shopping, we are too early. D visits an ATM and finally gets a receipt from the machine which delivers the full amount in 500 notes. These are checked carefully as there was a story in yesterday's news about ATMs issuing notes that had no serial numbers. We go in search of chai and eventually find an old fashioned vendor with a stove and a pan on the pavement. While we drink his excellent chai we watch him preparing the next batch, losing count after the fifteenth dessert spoon full of sugar goes in. The shops are starting to open and we do the rounds and R finds exactly what she is looking for as well as a couple of things she didn't know she was looking for.
One thing that the Lajpat Nagar market lacks is a spice shop. A quick online search provides a link to an article about the Servants of the People, described as a non-profit social service organisation, who run a spice shop. There is light cloud cover and it is not too hot for us so we set out to walk. This goes well until we reach the Delhi Ring Road, a six lane racetrack. We do not see how to cross this and not even locals are trying to dodge through the traffic and over the central barrier. There is a branch of Haldiram's sweet and snack shop with an integral cafe on our side so we adjourn for a lassi and to contemplate the problem. A detour of a few hundred metres gets us to a pedestrian underpass which solves the matter and we soon find the place we want. It is a complex of buildings that look a little run down but there are various things happening including a library and various medical activities. We get directed to the spice shop. This provides ethical employment for women who can be seen working behind the shop area, hand grinding various spices. Not all of R's requirements are stocked but we get a good selection to take home.
Luckily we are only a hundred metres from a metro station, the one after Lajpat Nagar, so we can ride back to base and deposit the loot before heading out to Gurgaon. We are meeting A and Y there for A and D's regular beer drinking session. So regular that this is the third time it has happened in four years. Gurgaon is a satellite city of Delhi, out to the south west, about forty five minutes by metro from Delhi centre. We are already partway there so our ride is about 35 minutes, the latter part above ground. We were last in Gurgaon in 2014 and there has been massive development since then although we have read that there are severe problems with water and power supplies. Two polite young men vacate the elderly seats for us so we travel in comfort. A meets us at the metro exit and we wait there for a few minutes for Y to arrive. After greetings and introductions ( R has not previously met Y) we head out towards Gurgaon's microbrewery district. Last time there were three of these around a dusty car park. Now there are at least a dozen, most on several levels. It is like stumbling into Doncaster Market Place but warmer. A explains that Haryana state classes microbreweries as industry which gives them tax breaks. A young, well paid workforce with not much to do probably helps.
We pick a venue on the grounds that it has outdoor seating and order beers and kebab appetisers. D is able to let Y see his small collection of Edmondson tickets from the Gujarat NG trips. R and A seem strangely unimpressed. A persuades the staff to turn down the music volume and we have a wide ranging and audible conversation. A certain DJ Trump features in part of this and the general consensus is that the world is going to hell in a handcart so we had best have another beer. Y has another appointment and takes his leave. The rest of us decide to move to another venue in order for the session to qualify as a pub crawl. The next place has a roof garden but apparently cannot afford to light the stairs. We are offered a small taster of the brews on offer and settle on a picher of their premium brew, with some mezze. The place is quite busy. All too soon it is time to hop an auto back to the metro. We get seats and doze on the trip back but get off at the right place. The night watchman lets us in.
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