Waiting in the lounge, Indira Gandhi International Airport.
15 hours after starting our journey from McLeod Ganj, Henny & I made it to the airport. We began at 3 AM - after about 4 hours of fitful sleep, and came tumbling off the mountain, through valleys, cross rivers, up and down twisted tracks in the mountains to get the plateau that stretches from the Himalayas clear through to New Dehli. Dale was with us and had to get out of the car and wretch - it was quite the experience, hovering through the tree lined trails that serve as major thoroughfares above the valleys, oh some hundreds of feet below off that very abrupt incline with absolutely NOTHING between us and the abyss other than a prayer and the fervent hope that our driver had somehow eked out enough sleep behind the wheel.
I won't bore you with the tedium of the journey once we got to the flat lands - other than to say it was HOT and LONG. In the mountains we came upon a truck that somehow had managed to get stuck across the narrow path and block it entirely - how, I don't know - the drive wheels were stuck in the red clay/mud (where'd that water come from anyway?) and spinning. Fortunately because we had a 4 wheel drive vehicle and an expert driver, we were able to get around. Double fortunately we got there at 4 in the morning and avoided the huge traffic snarl that must have ensued shortly thereafter.
After dropping Dale off at the Potola House (his flight was in the morning), we took an unintended 2 hour tour of Dehli as our driver had NO CLUE where the airport was. We had to stop about 20 times, roll down the window, and shout at passers-by - U international airport? (OR something to that effect), and then watch in awe the hand gesticulations, head movements, and general body communication as they yammered away in Hindi, which, fortunately for us, our driver speaks (and a little bit of English as well).
Dehli is truly a hell-hole, a place if I never return to I’ll be happy. Although I’ll be hard pressed to get back to the Himalayas without at least transiting Dehli. It’s HOT (yes, with capitals), and dusty, and filled with endless slums and winding roads and beggars on every street corner. The slums are flung up – multi-storey – using building techniques that must have been ancient when the pyramids were raised some 4000 years ago. Traffic never ceases, and every lane appears to not only be optional, but must be shared with at least another car, auto rickshaw, bicycle laden with a tone of recycled rags, and a Vespa to boot. But I digress again – come to Dehli and see for yourself – I’m sure someone must love it.
We're an hour from being able to enter the ticketing area - where we'll find out if the man I spoke to last week actually updated our travel records to fly tonight - I'm having some doubts now as I'm 100 feet from the ticket counter...
Should be in Hong Kong tomorrow by 3 PM - dead tired after 36 hours of straight travel, and ready to explore somewhere new with my brother Eric.
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