5th March - The Last Post

Time to go home. A quick early breakfast on the terrace and then a taxi to the airport.  Check in is painless and we even manage to blag Emergency Exit seats on the Dubai - Glasgow leg. The flight timings mean that we leave Delhi at 10.35 and arrive in Glasgow at 19.50, having consumed two lunches and an afternoon tea en route. The first lunch was notable for having Railway Dining Hall Lamb on the menu, and very nice it was too.The only other significant happening was being told that one of our bags had missed the plane. This meant some form filling and twenty four hours respite from tackling the dirty washing. The bag was eventually delivered by courier. 

Alex and Craig met us at the airport and drove us home which we were glad to see. Waking at 4 a.m. and seeing that the outside temperature was 1.6 C was not quite so much fun. As there are no pictures of the day here are a few signs that made us smile over the last few weeks.

4th March - Peas & Roses

Another sunny day in Delhi. Where have five and a half weeks gone?  After an outdoor breakfast we take a walk round Lodhi Gardens. At the entrance there is a blaze of colour, inside there are hordes of joggers and power walkers. Not too many birds to watch but it is a pleasant walk, totally free of two wheelers, which gets R's vote. Back at Lutyens Bungalow we have to start making a serious effort to pack. It appears that we have the required capacity,  so we can go out for lunch with a clear conscience. 

We take the metro to Chawri Bazaar, in the heart of Old Delhi, and set out on foot to find R's favourite mehndi stall. D gets the navigation wrong, finds several places that he couldn't find last year, and eventually manages to get to the right place. It does give us the chance to see some of the alleys and bazaars that do not feature on the regular tourist trail . Hand painting complete we set out for our late lunch appointment.  This includes a walk over the road bridge that spans New Delhi railway station,  which has not featured on our itinerary this year. At the far side we find our way  to the Paharganj Main Bazaar of hippy infamy. 

Our rendezvous is the Exotic Rooftop Cafe, which is up three flights of steep stairs. We sit down to wait for J, who has been on a welding course in Tamil Nadu for the last month. He looks in good shape for a man who has spent nearly two days on a train and orders a cheese toasty as a reaction to a month of South Indian food, we go for momos. They are ready in slightly under the hour, probably the longest wait we have ever had for food anywhere. It doesn't matter as there is lots to talk about, including Burma and Bangladesh.  J is a big fan of both. Eventually we need to leave as we have our bill to settle and an in house dinner ordered. We flout the rules by crossing New Delhi station's footbridge without tickets in order to access the metro.

Lutyens Bungalow is rather quiet tonight. We have a beer on the terrace before paying our bill. A couple of ladies join us at the dinner table but the party breaks up early. We give our thanks to Shukla, our host, and say our goodbyes before heading for our room. The booming disco music from somewhere nearby, that dominated the early evening, has thankfully come to an end. 

3rd March - Triveni and more

It is cloudless but rather cool when we get up this morning.  By the time that we have eaten breakfast it has warmed up. We plan to finish off our shopping today and meet up with a pal for lunch. The first metro train is absolutely rammed. Every year that we visit the system seems to get busier, but infrastructure and equipment look to be holding up well. At Central Secretariat we change but go north this time to Janpath station. This is right next to the Cottage Industries Emporium,  a huge Government shop where all sorts of things from all around India are sold. We tried to visit a few years ago when Janpath was a massive building site for the construction of the metro and fell for one of the classic Delhi tout tricks . "It has moved. I will take you for 20 rupees". The auto driver then took us miles to a Kashmiri carpet shop. To add insult to injury he then tried to charge us an exorbitant rate for a trip to the nearest metro station which turned out to be just around the corner. There has to be room for a book. 'Delhi - City of Scams'.

As we exit the metro there are no touts in sight and we spend an hour browsing with no sales pressure as these are civil servants. There are lots of things that R would like to buy but only a certain amount of luggage space to put it in. One essential purchase is an extra bag for this year's loot. We buy a few other things and watch a well honed retail system lumber into action.  You take your purchase to the nearest cash desk where a clerk makes out a hand written,  triplicate receipt.  You take two copies and the third is retained with the goods. When you have finished you take your accumulated slips of paper to the main cash desk, where the total bill is calculated and one copy of each is stamped as paid. This copy is then taken to the packing desk to be swapped for your items and the first copy receipt stapled to the packaging.  At the exit these are examined by the security person and stamped as approved for departure.  This all adds about 15 minutes to the time taken and provides employment for countless staff. Every item has a bar coded label but there is no attempt to scan these.

Our next visit is to the big khadi shop just off Connaught Place. Mahatma Gandhi was a big fan of khadi, which is basically traditional fabrics produced by traditional methods using natural fibres.  This concept has been stretched to include household goods such as soaps and air fresheners made from natural ingredients. Here retailing has moved forward a few decades.  The cashier and packer sit next to each other,  the bar codes are actually used and the till prints out the receipt. It is still deemed necessary for security to look at our bill on the way out, but there is no effort to check that it muatches the goods in our bag. On our way to our lunch appointment we pass a branch of Fabindia which is too much temptation for R. Inside they have a sale rack which is lightly plundered before we leave. 

One stop on the metro takes us to Mandi House from where it is a short walk to the Triveni Gallery which not only has art but a shady outdoor cafe. We are meeting S here for lunch and he has stressed the need to be prompt in order to get a table. There is already a short queue so D gets in that while R checks out one of the galleries. S arrives, looking in great form, and after a short wait a table is free. He explains that the food here can be a bit unusual. Presumably Bangla Masala Scotch Egg falls into this category. We go with S's recommendations and have ragi idlis, a South Indian dish that has been made here with millet, and a traditional Delhi chaat dish served with lightly battered spinach leaves. These look spectacular when they arrive on the table. The service at the Triveni is not pushy and we have lots of time to catch up and swop a few travel stories. S orders the main dishes - one with mutton, wheat and dal cooked together and topped with crispy fried onions, another dish of smokey mashed aubergines,  some stand alone dal and delicious parathas. It is a huge feast and we are persuded to try the kheer with jaggery and dried fruit (super sweet rice pudding) as well as date and ginger chocolate cake with caramel sauce.

S has a train to catch later so he heads home to get ready and we waddle round the gallery. The main hall has some interesting stuff including a collection called Cow Dung Fatasies. One of the smaller galleries has a collection of sculpted heads and pastel sketches by a man from Mumbai, who is present and takes our photo several times. The stone used for the sculptures has been found lying in the streets in Mumbai. At least one piece looks like Portland Stone. Our last job this afternoon is to go up to the Old Delhi spice market with R's list. We find a small shop with lots of local custom and none of the tourist chat that can be a bit off putting.  They have everything that we want at prices R is happy with. We celebrate by taking a cycle rickshaw back along Chandni Chowk to Haldirams for a lassi. It is busy and the presentation is not as good as  yesterday's but still very welcome. Thus fortified we ride the metro home and watch the birds in the garden. 

We had thought of going out for dinner tonight but the huge lunch will see us right through. A couple of beers, some reading and an early night are just what these old folk need.

March 2nd - The Annual Pub Crawl

Ray arrives about 11 p.m. and we drink a beer on the terrace while we catch up. He has an early departure tomorrow so we turn in around midnight.  

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. 

1st March - Pakoras for Breakfast

We have a train to catch just before 10 a.m. today so no pre dawn start today. Good job too as it is raining when we look out at the world. Most of the packing got done last night so we can take it easy this morning.  Breakfast is crispy fried mixed veg pakoras. D is told not to expect these first thing in the morning at home. Our liking for Mrs R's chai is not forgotten as one last cup is served up. Ramesh has ordered an auto to take us to the station.  When it arrives it is probably the smartest auto that we have ever seen, with pristine seat covers and not a dent or scratch to be seen. Before we depart the driver is pressed into service as a photographer. We thank Ramesh, his wife and their daughter,  who has done her share of looking after us during our stay. D promises to send some of the best bird photos and then it is time to go. 

By now the sun has come out but it is not yet so hot that we need the shade. By chance we park ourselves by the signal box, which D is now entitled to take a professional interest. The box is just a room on the platform with only five levers, surprising for quite a busy terminus station.  There is no sign of a signalman so D stays outside the open door.  We do some minor birdwatching from the platform as the train is shunted from the sidings into the platform. We are first onto our coach and quickly stow our bags on the overhead rack. We are travelling AC Chair class, not greatly dissimilar to Standard Class on a British train, but with 3+2 seating. This is not as bad as it sounds as Indian coaches are wider than ours. Our seats are a two, near the centre of the coach, and facing the direction of travel. The window is just about passable with a yellowish tint.

D gets off for photos and supplies. Chai vendors are in short supply but biscuits and water are procured as well as some photos of the loco. When D gets back to the coach it is filling up. A chap who had one of the berths in our bay on the way to Ramnagar is seated along the coach and asks R if we saw a tiger. A lot of people have serious luggage and the racks soon fill. When we depart, about 10 minutes behind time, the coach is at least 80% occupied.  While we have no real complaints about the accommodation in AC Chair, some of the other passengers are a different matter. A significant number are inconsiderate,  noisy and even downright rude at times. People in so called lower class trains are usually much nicer. In this instance the mood is not helped by a howling small boy in a seat nearby. His parents appear incapable of finding the volume switch. There is no doubt that a vote amongst the other passengers would have resulted in a victory for Scexit ( Small child exit) who campaigned for tossing the little so and so out of the nearest door. 

At the first stop the coach fills up and still more people get in. A man starts to take our luggage off the rack to make room for his until we protest vociferously.  R is hit on the head twice by other people's bags. It does not help that many people ignore the seat numbers shown by the doors and get on at the wrong end of the coach for their seats. The result is lots of pushing,  jostling and bad tempered exchanges. When the train moves off there are still people standing. This looks like a serious case of Social Evil and we are not even in UP* yet. The TTE manages to instill some sort of order, finding seats for most while some are banished to the Unreserved Coach behind, the padlocked roller shutter being opened just for this before being locked shut again.

Our second stop is at Moradabad, a major junction with connections to many parts of the country. We are almost back on time but have a 40 minute scheduled stop here as our train is combined with one from Kathgodam for the onward run to Delhi. D searches the platform for chai but can only find the small, sweet bananas that we both like. The vendor asks for Rs 25 and then gives D 12 change out of thirty. Our part of the train is then dragged backwards out of platform three before being propelled into P4 behind the Kathgodam section. During this manoeuvre we pass a coach marked as being "For Oscillation Trials". R wants to know if this is used to work out where to serve the onboard soup.

The approach to Delhi seems interminable, with slow running and unexplained halts. We sit on the Yamuna Bridge outside Old Delhi station for an age before finally pulling in to the platform. We fight our way through the crowds looking for the prepaid taxi stand that is promised on the Delhi Police website. A real, rather than virtual,  policeman tells us prepaid autos only, no taxis. There appears to be a rolling maul at the prepaid and the touts circle. The taxi wants 400, the auto guy 300. We get him down to 250 which turns out to be a decent price when the entertainment supplied is taken into account. We first get a demonstration of how the smart auto pilot deals with missing the right turn filter at the traffic lights. He turns hard left, head on into the waiting traffic, before doing a U turn ready to proceed, thus cutting the wait time by 50%. 

The traffic lights in Delhi cycle round incredibly slowly, causing big delays and prompting the development of a whole economic sector of traffic light queue vendors. At one set of lights we are offered bedspreads, hand towels, tea towels and coconut slices. We also get avoided by a Hijra collecting. At the next lights there are jigsaw puzzles, feather dusters, plastic guitars and a chap selling kiddies magic motion books. He starts by offering one for 100 rupees. By the time he gets to 5 for 100 we are all in stitches laughing - the vendor, the driver and both of us. We don't want one. What would we do with five! The lights change before the deal gets too good for D to refuse.

At Lutyens Bungalow we are wecomed as usual. Our room has a  newly refurbished bathroom and a sunny aspect. We take tea on the terrace and watch the parakeets,  as well as a pair of red naped ibis that appear to be residents in the garden. On top of one of the big trees are a pair of Yellow Footed Green Pigeons. Shukla Nath our host comes out to greet us and we chat for a while before retiring to wash away the grime from the train trip. We have opted to eat in tonight so after a beer we join the crowd at the communal table. Two English ladies, travelling separately,  a Dutchman and a French couple, visiting India for the first time, along with us. A few more beers flow and it is a convivial meal. Most people are leaving early tomorrow so the party breaks up but we are in no hurry. We hope to meet a friend from our very first trip to India tonight.  He is checking in late and leaving early but we owe him a beer as he recommended Lutyens Bungalow to us.

UP = Uttar Pradesh state in Northern India, considered by some to be one of the less law abiding parts of India.

28th February - Half a Tiger

The alarms both go at 5.30 and we quickly get dressed. A cup of tea sets us up nicely and we are ready to go when Ramesh gets a call to say that Dennis the driver is delayed because of elephants crossing the road. Try that story next time you sleep in. We may have got the spelling of his name wrong but it certainly sounds like that. We have a short wait to register at the gate but then we get going just as it is getting light. There are Crested Serpent Eagles nearly everywhere that we look and right at the top of a dead tree a hoopoe, one of R's favourites,  poses very nicely indeed. There is an early piece of excitement as the alarm call of a deer is heard and we stake out a likely spot but it comes to nought.

Ramesh tries hard to find a tiger and we watch another possible position as we eat our picnic breakfast of boiled eggs and bread and butter. Still the Crested Serpent Eagles line up, one of them doing a spot of sunbathing just above the track. Eventually time is up and we have to turn back towards the gate. We pass one last eagle, staring inscrutably at us from about thirty metres away. Lunch is aloo saag, with two types of dal, rice and chapattis.  We enjoy it very much.

The afternoon safari heads for a different area of the park. On the way we stop to pick up another guide who needs a lift to the park entrance. Before we even get to the park we see a tree absolutely covered in bees nests and then several Griffon Vultutures circling. We pull up on a ford over a dry riverbed and see that there are dozens of vultures assembled down in the riverbed. The guide tells us that there is a deer carcass there. To the side of the river there are some dead tree stumps covered in vultures rather evoking images of Walt Disney's Jungle Book. Ramesh calls "Chalo"  (let's go) and we move on to the park gate to register. The other guide hops out and we set out on a straight and well surfaced road across the buffer zone. There is birdlife everywhere including numerous green bea eaters, several shrikes, an Indian Roller, posed beautifully on a dead tree and a small group of birds that even Ramesh has to look up in the book. They are plains martins, not a regular visitor to this area.

At the second gate we check in and follow the track into the forest. We soon come in sight of  a gaggle of Gypsies. One of the other guides tells Ramesh that two bears have been seen. We park up to see what transpires.  Suddenly Ramesh hisses "Tiger!" D turns to see the rear quarters and tail of a large tiger moving off the track behind us into the bush. R is not quite quick enough, while D has no time to get a photo. Two of the other guides instruct their drivers to drive quickly to the spot which displeases Ramesh greatly as he thinks that there is a good chance that the tiger might reappear. We wait for half an hour or so, while everybody else gets bored and moves on. The tiger does not come back but we have a good view of a tree that attracts some very interesting birds, including two types of barbet and some plum headed parakeets.

We drive on and see a lot more birds including pheasants,  jungle fowl, emerald doves and best of all a colony of Griffon Vultures roosting high up on a cliff. Ramesh calls a halt as he has spotted a very rare bird. It is a Blue Bearded Bee Eater, hunched up against a tree at some considerable distance. His eyesight and ability to spot birds is just phenomenal. The bird's position and the light are not great for photography but D gets a shot of a kind. We are shown a tree laden with weaver bird nests. There are also plenty of monkeys and deer to distract us. As we turn for home we cross a river bed where a peacock is displaying his tail to great effect. After a couple of minutes he turns to give the perfect angle for a photo. This is a great finale to a good afternoon's birding. Driving through the buffer zone we get great sightings of Grey Hornbills.

On the way home we stop to buy sweets at a shop as a present for Mrs Ramesh and pick up their daughter.  It is dark by the time we get in and we have lots of photos to look through with a good proportion getting the delete treatment. There are some good survivors though. Supper smells great, and after soup we tuck in to a really tasty Chicken Biryani. D sits down with Ramesh to sort out the bill. Last year we were exceptionally lucky, with two tiger sightings and more elephants than we could count. This time the results were more about birds but we still had a most enjoyable visit. Ramesh is hoping to build a bigger place soon to allow him to expand his business. He is just waiting for the legal title to the land to be finalised. We need no rocking to sleep tonight.