Himalayan Challenge for Whizz-Kidz
Indian Himalayas, October 28^th to November 10^th 2006
Log 1 October 28^th/29^th An overnight flight from the UK brought us smack into the warmth, dust and mayhem of India’s capital city around lunchtime. This was to be little more than a whistle stop. Just enough time to flicker through a hotel room to freshen up, sample the first real flavours of India for lunch, and visit India’s largest mosque – Jama Masjid. It would take a lifetime to become well acquainted with Delhi. The few short hours I had gave me no more than a kaleidoscopic overview of the old part of the city, but my impression could not have been more intense. The place assails the whole self – utterly. I could swear there is more going on in one square foot here than in one square mile anywhere else. A complete banquet for the unblinking eye, the city heaves with the constant movement of people, lorries, buses, cars, bikes, green and yellow rickshaws, bullock-drawn carts, cows, goats, even the occasional elephant. They dance to no one’s tune as they proceed, cheek by jowl, haphazardly down streets, across junctions and roundabouts amidst a cacophony of horns and shouts. One has to marvel at the lack of accidents. Even the goats seem to operate with inbuilt radar.
Jama Masjid The architect, Shah Jehan, who seems to have been responsible for most of the buildings in Old Delhi, also built India’s largest mosque – Jama Masjid – between 1644 and 1656. I had to wonder at the three immense red sandstone stairways that give access to its massive inner courtyard - until I discovered that another 24,999 people could well have been trying to get in at the same time as me. Two red and white sandstone minarets, perched on the west side of the main prayer hall, and therefore facing Mecca, dominate the courtyard. The mosque itself has towers at each corner. It is possible to climb the 122, very friendly, narrow steps (claustrophobics beware) to the top of one of these. The views from here of both Old and New Delhi would be magnificent on a clear day. Part of the ornate water feature in the inner courtyard			Over thirteen and a half million people live in Delhi, and as far as I could tell, they were all out on the streets. If any were at home, they seemed to be living on roundabouts under canvas, dust-laden and weather-worn…..or crammed like sardines along whole streets, in makeshift abodes that had been cobbled together in a hotch-potch of brick, concrete, corrugated metal, wood and cardboard. Their stoves, alight around the clock, lined the footpaths alongside their belongings and the shabby stalls they had set up to earn a meagre living amongst the dirt and debris.
Delhi is a city that is unashamedly up close and personal. At any given moment a beggar tugs piteously at your sleeve, a shoe-shine boy pleads in front of you, little children want to shake your hand or dance for attention at your side…a rickshaw, bulging with its occupants, misses you by a hare’s whisker, and a young man scoots past you like the wind on an old ‘sit up and beg’ bicycle, carrying twenty or thirty trays of eggs that completely obliterate his vision ahead. Not for the faint-hearted…this is pandemonium at very close quarters. Though Delhi is obviously cooler in October, the air still clings like a dirty blanket. The street odour was sickly at times, and despite possessing a fairly robust stomach, I did occasionally feel that a good lungful of the spice-laden air of Chandni Chowk’s bazaars would not have gone amiss. Too short a stay unfortunately. A young brother and sister performing tirelessly outside our hotel in Delhi			The Red Fort – Delhi Otherwise known as Lal Qil’ah, and pictured here from Jama Masjid, the Red Fort’s great sandstone walls, built in the 17^th century to keep out invaders, dominate the skyline above Old Delhi – and recall for the traveller the power and wealth of the Mogul empire. The fort was completed by Emperor Shah Jehan in 1648 as the palace for the new capital, Shahjahanabad. He and his family, and staff of 3,000, at one time had their exquisite living quarters within these walls during the height of the empire. The fort was also the scene of the Indian uprising of 1857 – the Lahore Gate, on the western side, remaining a great symbol of the fight for Independence. Each year on August 15^th the Prime Minister of India addresses the nation from the Red Fort - in memory of the day India achieved independence from the United Kingdom. Picture by courtesy of the internet
	Just a few sample cameos….. of cycle and auto rickshaws…..				…life under canvas….. and part of the city’s electricity supply on a bad cable day.
And I could easily have spent several days here – just wandering - soaking up the intensity of sights and sounds – letting the city creep under my skin – and filling the camera with a thousand images. But that would have to wait. We had places to go. Dinner on the roof of our hotel was followed very smartly by a transfer to Old Delhi railway station for the overnight sleeper to Chakki Bank…en route to Dharamsala and McLeod Ganj in the northern Indian state of Himachal Pradesh.
				Our arrival at Old Delhi station became an event in itself. A group of eight or ten porters appeared as if from nowhere and placed themselves at our disposal. One could be forgiven for thinking it might be a simple affair - merely collecting our baggage and carrying it to the platform perhaps. Not so. This was the way these men earned what little money they could – and they had to negotiate. For around five or ten minutes the air buzzed with raised voices and gesticulations as our expedition leader attempted to arrange a fair price for us, whilst not insulting the porters with an offer that would be too low. At last a deal was struck and the men got to work. I don’t think one bag was carried by hand. Each porter had a small piece of cloth wound into a circle which he put on his head as protection. One bag was placed on top of this, followed by a second and a third. Once all our baggage was distributed in this way, the porters arranged themselves into a long line and beckoned us to follow. Thus we entered Old Delhi station in fine parade style, though it has to be said that the crowd we encountered hardly fell back to make way for us!
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