Finally, after years of living vicariously through the worlds of Suitable Boys, Midnight Children and Fine Balances I have arrived in India and the sights, sounds and smells have truly been brought to life! It would be very easy to descend into cliches about the culture shock but I want to try and avoid those as the main purpose of this blog is to record my own impressions of my visits to this part of the world.

It was however a proper baptism of fire (cliche number one already...!) when having arrived two hours late at Bombay airport I met Hiren to catch the train back to the apartment we were staying at. Somewhat tired and a bit disorientated I didn't quite cotton onto the fact that we were taking the commuter train from the south of the city all the way to the north which emphasised the tourist motto that Bombay is a city to "survive"...

The commuter train makes the underground at peak time on the hottest day of the year look like flying BA first class. When the train arrives there is a mad rugby-scrum to get on board for the 15-20 seconds the train remains stationary at the platform in a manner that brings proper meaning to survival of the fittest. This Herculean task isn't helped by the fact that everyone wants to cling onto the open doors as this is the best ventilation. If you manage to get through to the door from the platform and then negotiate the hardened Indian travelers you're faced with what is best described as a game of Gladiators' Hang Tough in which you have to swing through the sea of sweating bodies using the tiny hand rail loops dangling from the ceiling. When the train stops you have to hold on as tight as you can as the commuters fight their way to the door using whatever weapon springs to hand. The best way seems to be sitting on the roof, though I haven't quite mastered this one yet.

Tourists never get this train and I received the strangest stares as I barged my way onto the coach. Little did I know that this train would be our only form of transport into the city and if it wasn't for the fact that our stop was at the end of the line and that our destination stop in the city was at the end of the line I'd probably still be somewhere on that train trying to get off! Add to this rickshaws that have lining on the ceiling to protect against the bumps (and crashes from cows, rickshaws, cars, buses, cyclists and angry pedestrians) and you might get the picture of transport in India!

Asides from the train journey our stay in Bombay was fantastic. We were put up by Hiren's family friends who insisted on being called Auntie and Uncle and who, despite having suffered more personal tragedy than one family should, went out of their way to make our stay as comfortable and interesting as possible.

On our first proper day we took a leisurely ferry trip from the impressive Gateway of India (mock Arc de Triomphe only several times bigger erected solely to commemorate the visit of King George in the early 20th century at the height of colonialism) to Elephanta Island which is home to huge caves containing sculptures of Siva. It is considered a holy place for Hindus and is also a fantastic piece of architecture. It was also relaxing to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city and take amusing photos of monkeys!

Given the humidity of Bombay and the constant hassle as tourists - Hiren was constantly stopped by bemused Indians trying to discern whether he was native or not while I simply got offered hash... - we treated ourselves to a meal in the luxurious Taj Hotel right on the seafront enjoying air conditioning, space and cleanliness!

It was also a chance for me to get some food that definitely didn't have nuts in it. India has definitely been a trial for someone with a nut allergy...virtually every dish is cooked either in nut oil or with nuts! Trying to tell waiters that I have an allergy has resulted in some hilarious consequences and meant that being safer rather than sorry I have been indulging in a range of vegetable kormas and French fries...

Luckily Uncle and Auntie took us out to a local restaurant, Cholaas, and treated us to a meal which they could ensure was nut free. Not quite realising eating protocol I stuffed myself on the food that came thinking that the series of chapatis and various dishes were the main course only to find out that it was the main. Not wanting to be impolite to our hosts (!) I forced the arrival of the second round of food down my throat so that when we got back to the apartment I was unable to do much but lie on my bed and groan.

In hindsight it was extremely fortunate as the following day we took the 17 hour sleeper train to Delhi. I still can't quite get over how the size of places on the map does in no way do justice to the vastness of spaces between cities. It was an early evening train and so for the couple of hours of dusk I was able to doze in the evening sun as we passed through wasteland and field with tiny shanty villages built close to the railway and able to watch as nomadic and settled communities carried on with the way of life they have been living for generations. The one thing I haven't been able to get over is how much litter there is in India - on the ferry other passengers just chucked their food and drink wrappers into the sea - everywhere you go there are just mounds upon mounds of festering litter and this was evident all the way along the rail line up to Delhi.

We shared the sleeper train with an actor called Vik who was able to give us some useful tips on coping with Delhi so that when we stumbled off at 9am in the morning we weren't completely unprepared for the heat and hassle!

Everywhere we went we were accosted by touts trying to force things on us. Hiren eventually discovered a useful tactic of getting rid of them by telling them that God was watching them and wouldn't be happy if He could see them lying to us which soon sent them scuttling! We had the name of the hostel we wanted to stay in but no-one would take us there and after two rickshaws dropped us off in the middle of nowhere we eventually got to our destination. We're staying in Raj's Cozy Inn which is cosy in the sense of cheap and empty (!) which lies just off the Main Bazaar - a street that is packed with ordinary Delhi life: cars, rickshaws, bikes and cows competing for the tiny pedestrian walkway, bulging street shops and homemade food stalls, tourists, touts and locals thronged together avoiding the spitting of paan coming from every direction. It's an experience to be in the midst of this and you could quite easily stay on the rooftop terrace of the appropriately named Sam's Cafe all day sipping Lassis and watching the world bubble by.

We didn't as Hiren was on a mission to find the shopping mall, to get a new manbag. After a long rickshaw ride (I don't think that however many I take I am ever going to get used to the life-or-death driving in India...) we arrived at a mall that was spotless, quiet and chic, perhaps a great indication of the contrary and contradictory polar opposites of India's psyche. Sadly everything was out of our price range so we came back with just a couple of second hand National Geographics....

We were proper tourists on our second day in the capital by booking into a city bus tour! Given the whistlestop nature of our trip where we're only spending a few days in each city it just isn't possible to fit in everything we want to do so we're doing it the good old traditional way of package sightseeing!

This trip was particularly interesting as we turned up to find our ac bus with english tour guide was neither ac (unless you count opened windows) nor had an English speaking guide...Still, apart from that it was the best way to see all the sights. We visited the temples, Indira Gandhi museum/memorial house, Parliament, Lotus Temple, Gandhi Memorial, sari-textiles shop, the Qutvminar Tower and Red Fort. I've realised that my sketchy knowledge of eastern religion and politics is hugely missing so did the only thing a tourist can do and bought Gandhi's Autobiography....Somehow I'm not sure this is going to help me work out whether Indira was the great leader as portrayed by the legend of her museum or the author of the horrors of the Emergency as viciously depicted by Rohinton Mistry but it's gone someway to getting me going again in immersing myself in the culture and finding these things out for myself.

India has been totally undescribable, it has been everything I hoped for plus more and what I had hoped wouldn't be. It somehow gets under your skin in every sense of the way so that even when you are trying to fend off a persistent tout you can't help but stop and wonder at the world carrying on around you. A Fine Balance is my favourite book of all time and I think Rohinton Mistry got it right in the title: India is indeed a fine balance, a tiny teetering line on which complete opposites exist, tipping over and causing chaos when they frequently cross the line and co-existing in bizarre synthesis when finely balanced.

We have a couple more days in Delhi (visiting some more temples tomorrow) before setting off to Jaipur, Agra (Taj Mahal) and then a spiritual pilgrimage to Varanasi to bathe in the Ganges. We probably won't get to a computer now to Nepal but looking forward to reporting on our trek and how Mike's getting on!

Sam

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