Tag 1: India hits

30.6./1.7.2016

The journey to India, the first stop of our trip, was a reflection of what awaited us. On the Russian Aeroflot - no smile, no witty remark, no glance... but also no stench, no dirt, no cows... all in all, Russia, as much as we see it, comes across as incredibly sterile. Stark Eastern Bloc buildings as far as the eye can see (and it can see far from the plane), the airport and the airline are outdated, but also somehow charmless.

Anyway… everything is going smoothly. No delays, no stress, no annoying side factors. All in all, it's surprisingly cool.

Arrival in India at 4 am. New Delhi. The melting pot of the subcontinent... the temperatures here confirm the saying.

But from the beginning. I expected India as I left it almost 10 years ago. A turmoil, a beehive... what came was the most modern train I had ever seen, air-conditioned, fast, cheap, and penetrating directly into the heart of the metropolis. I briefly worry: What happened to my unadulterated, fully flawed and spotless India. Is the Russian monotony rubbing off on it?

5:30 am, the first movement of the sleeping giant ... all of Delhi is up until this point... the movement comes in the form of a confirmation, a confirmation of my expectations... 5:30 am... Cloakroom? Open? No today maybe 6am... "But the sign says 5:30!" ... sign... nonono... I understand... Hello in India!!... shortly after 6am, a sleepy Indian arrives, he can't manage anything... there are many words like yessir, noproblem, obligatory head-wagging... unfortunately, he doesn't have a confirmation ticket... by the time we finally left our luggage at the train station, the sun had risen. We walk, past my first friend on this trip, a grinning soldier with a rifle, into the heart of the metropolis. My 2 dairy cows Gudi and Hetti (yes, I can call them that, it's a good thing here) ask what is so remarkable here, miss the flair... suddenly... 5 seconds later... boing... the slap in the face... the heat becomes unbearable, no more air-conditioned subway building, and the silence of the empty subway is just a pale memory. Now it's time to activate our adrenaline and go...

Animals, people, dirt, stench, cars, noise... if it were just the endless impressions that overwhelm us, even the smell, the enormous heat, and the constantly active instinct to flee (yes, the streets of India invite you to be active) rain down on us. In addition, the perception that this country brings incredible poverty and suffering with it, that here people lie and sleep close together in the dirt, people who are only a shadow of themselves, if they ever looked different, yes, this realization has to wait in line, no time for sentimentality.

The ordeal ends for now at the train station, where a nice manager... I would rather call him a nice Messiah (he really saved us) leads us back and puts us in a rickshaw. We actually just want a map to get familiar and then relax all day. We agreed to skip sightseeing today, we need to acclimate slowly. We want to explore India with full force. But: India doesn't ask us. And the rickshaw driver doesn't either. Although he takes us to the nearest tourist office for 30 rupees (he originally wanted 70), they don't even have a map, so we soon end up back in the rickshaw. He wants to take us on a sightseeing tour. Maybe it's due to the already acute lack of sleep, maybe it's due to the overwhelming surroundings, but somehow we agree, especially the price negotiation in India is an exciting, albeit opaque and flimsy construct. Fact is, no one knows what they have to pay, there's grinning and a reference to the poor quality of the money, emphasizing friendship. Honestly... we're not that dumb...!

Soon Driver 1 is overwhelmed with us - and we with his English - and there is a flying change on the road... Driver 2, a Nepalese, actually very nice... takes us to a temple... Silence... finally... breathe, realize, the last 2 hours. They were like a marathon, a constant tension... let it sink in.

Afterwards, we continue with our "Indian helicopter" to visit a manufacturing... here too, the driver's own interpretation of tourist interest. Well, the first time it's still funny, we nod along but don't buy anything... for which we receive angry looks and I don't want to know how many voodoo curses.

So, now for breakfast... we think... we are seated in a nice local place and want to indulge in our hunger. But the Indians take their opening hours rather loosely. So it takes a while, but the food is good, spicy, and satisfying. Probably the first breakfast of my life that I will remember in the evening. Out of joy, our blood goes straight to the stomach, the head becomes empty, the tiredness gets worse.

In addition, it gets hotter... to make matters worse, we go to a Sikh temple made of white marble... it's cool and air-conditioned, but it reflects the sun worse than a glacier in July. The people are very friendly and in the courtyard of the temple, people are lying everywhere and sleeping, a nice place actually. As a reward for dressing with scarves and leaving our shoes, we get free Chai and bread in front of the temple. A very nice gesture. We leave our driver behind since he has already ripped us off for a much higher sum (which easily covers the entire trip) and we are no longer interested in another tour with him.

India comes with many challenges... finding a rickshaw driver is certainly not an insurmountable one. We quickly end up with a new driver... Number 3... he takes us to the desired shopping center praised by Number 2, but our naivety hits us with full force here as well. We actually expected an air-conditioned mall with shops to enter, cafes and seating areas...instead... a huge building, many floors... and every shop owner wants to sell us something. FALLING FOR IT... no chance to rest again. We are desperate... what should we do now? The plan was to spend the day leisurely... but now we are all exhausted, sweaty, frustrated, and it is 10 am... our train with the long-awaited air conditioning is in 12 hours. After being dismissed again at the tourist office, we coincidentally find a air-conditioned place around the corner. Good food, drinks, and nobody cares if we sit there for 3-4 hours. Each of us falls asleep briefly with their head on the table at least once. If we are not sleeping, we can witness a Bollywood-worthy tragic love story at the neighboring table, for the entire 4 hours. During an exploration tour, I not only discover the local toilets (in some moments, you are really glad to come from a skiing nation - the squatting position on Indian toilets pays off twice over). but also a genuinely nice rickshaw driver... Number 4. He chats pleasantly with me and is also very helpful, giving us tips for tourists, etc...

Furthermore, we accomplish the seemingly impossible and agree on a price with him in advance, he takes us around for almost 3 hours.

So we also see the India Gate (which is not called Indira - my faux pas), the President's Palace, an English garden, and the government seat. Unfortunately, and this is somewhat annoying, this driver also takes us to several shops. The first time, we still buy spices, chili of course... but then it becomes very tedious... if I see another elephant figurine, I'll go crazy...

At the end of the tour, he takes us to the train station, which is now mega busy... We give Number 4 a good tip (he was really okay), go to the foreigner bureau of the railway (probably the coolest place in all of India), and really want to end the day now. It's already almost 4pm. We just need to quickly change our trains. We try to withdraw the necessary money. And India strikes again. No chance! Maestro declined, credit card, no thanks! In total, we wander all over New Delhi and undoubtedly try to get cash from 8-10 ATMs. Unfortunately, the ones that don't immediately "hang up" refuse.

Suddenly, we amuse ourselves. These Indians can run and fast, too. Because of a few raindrops... we Austrians can handle that. Luckily, the train station arrives on time. We couldn't have stood it. What came was a flood. Half of the train station, yes the entire city, is partially 20 cm underwater.

But then, the rescue. Gudi manages to activate her card, we withdraw money and change our trains. Afterwards, I set off again to find internet in the city. A boat would be useful. Finally, I find a possibility, write to our Indian acquaintance in Hyderabad, and book rooms for Varanasi.

We spend the next few hours waiting for the train. We sit on the platform, eat with our hands, and watch a man calmly undress, soap up, and shower on the tracks (I don't know why there is water there). My goodness, we have truly arrived. Despite being awake for almost 36 hours, we get along quite well and are looking forward to the journey to Varanasi.

In the train, we have nice neighbors, chat, enjoy the atmosphere (human and temperature-wise), and soon fall asleep.

Day 2 In the morning, we are almost there, these train journeys pass in a flash. Only I unfortunately couldn't sleep well. When we disembark in Varanasi, a familiar scene. People want to sell us something. This time it's a ride to the city - and we take it (not physically - with the offer). Again, we go through crowded streets, but cows on the road do not bother us as much as the heat or honking. After 30 minutes, we switch to a bicycle-powered rickshaw, then another 15 minutes walk through the old town of Varanasi (which makes Venice look like a well-planned city), accompanied by a nice but incredibly annoying seller named Babu.

Arriving at the hotel, the relief. Not only the view of the steps of the corridor, but also the room and the shower are really okay. We drink mango lassi and relax, we have earned it. And finally, peace... after 40 hours being constantly among people, we briefly feel a bit lonely, but then we soon enjoy being among ourselves again. Including a French lesson for Matthias.