Belly Of The Beast

I've arrived in New Delhi, the last official stop on my itinerary. I'm staying in the part of town called Pahar Ganj, which is sort of the backpackers' mecca of all India. Since most travelers fly into Delhi and spend most of their time in a few other cities which are relatively near here (Agra, Varanasi, Jaipur and a few other cities in Rajasthan), this is the first taste of India for the vast majority of Westerners. It's basically Bourbon Street, lined with little shops selling hippie clothes and Indian trinkets instead of strip joints and dive bars.

Pahar Ganj has a bit of a reputation. If you've heard some traveler's tale of woe in India, it probably takes place within a couple blocks of where I'm sitting right now. Basically take my post about my arrival in Hampi and change the word "Hampi" for "Pahar Ganj", and you have most people's opinion of the place.

And yet, like many other supposedly intimidating parts of India I've visited, I find it to be completely fine. I got from the train to a hotel without drama. The hotel is cheap, clean, and aside from the lack of a window it's one of the better deals I've found. The trinkets on offer are actually surprisingly cheap and nicer than most similar stuff I've found in other parts of India.

This pretty much sums up my experience in India. Shop owners are trolling for customers. Fresh-Off-The-Plane India newbs are having chavvy little panic attacks. OCD tourists (why did you pick India??) are sitting in sidewalk cafes wiping every drop of tap water off their empty glasses, Because You Can Never Be Too Safe. Rickshaw drivers are wiping the dust and pollution off their windshields. Cows and dogs are munching on leaf bowls (have I talked about those? best invention EVER) in the gutters. And I'm just kicking back eating a jalebi, watching it all unfurl.

I can't believe I have to come home next week.