hot in the city
30 05 2010Things have been quiet around here for a little while on account of uber-flaky intarwebs connections, and then none at all when Im and Nar’s modem got killed by lightning. We had a lot of rain and thunderstorms over the last few days, which is good for the garden, but bad for electronics.
Anyway, yesterday I sadly had to leave the mountains and head back down to Delhi, since my flight leaves on Tuesday and my visa expires on Thursday. The BA strike has left me with an eight-and-a-half hour layover in Heathrow, but at least I can still get home. The trip down to Delhi was not without incident mainly on account of my somewhat inaccurate answer to the question “Do you have yout tickets/passport/money?” The rail ticket I had looked at while packing turned out to be my old one from March and I hadn’t printed out the new one. Attempts to locate an internet cafe in Haldwani proved difficult, since it seemed to be school exam results day and every cafe was swamped with a million kids getting their results online. Eventually I managed to find a place, dump myself rather rudely at the front of the queue and throw myself upon the mercy of the owner. Then his printer decided to start playing up… Eventually we got to Lal Kuan Station with eight minutes to spare and I made it to the train. Phew.
I’d decided, since it’s the end of a long trip, to treat myself on the way home. Thus it was that I travelled First Class on the train (for a gargantuan £13 or so), and I am now holed up at the fabulously named Hotel Cottage Yes Please. The Yes (as it shall henceforth be known) is a cut above my usual lodgings in Pahar Ganj, but worth it. It’s clean, the service is good, it has air con (requisite when it’s 45 degrees outside), a fridge (which I have had stocked up with beer), a TV on which I can watch the cricket later, wifi so I can catch up with all this malarkey, and is nicely located near some good eateries.
On the way up the main bazaar last night I nearly got run over by a cycle rickshaw, which added a nice new scar to my satchel, and which nicked my hand, unbeknown to me until I started bleeding on the hotel register. Pahar Ganj’s main bazaar itself is the subject of some ongoing Commonwealth Games beautification and as such is completely unrecognisable. It’s actually hard to find some things, and other buildings have reappeared that I had no idea existed. The road is full of rubble and bricks and the place in general looks like a war zone. As if anyone coming for the CWG is going to care? Afterwards it will, doubtless, quickly resume its former character anyway. La la.
Right. I’m going to do a bit of work before lunch, see if I can’t get some stuff posted, find an ATM and then try out the restaurant down the street that Im and Nar recommended. See you later.
