by Maggie
My friend Sheilagh was over for lunch the other day to talk about Sri Lanka, as she has just come back from a trip there. She showed me the guidebook she’d taken with her. Looking at it now, she commented on how differently we read the descriptions and look at the pictures once we’ve been. How true!
I will be arriving in Delhi by myself in the middle of the night. Anne and Dave come 24 hours later. I have visioned and revisioned my arrival, rehearsed my route, imagined my conversations with hoteliers. I’ve studied pictures and maps and read the advice of dozens of bloggers and friends. But I know reality is unlikely to resemble the place in my imaginings. That’s half the fun of travel: comparing the imagined to the actual.
I’ll spend my first night in a remarkably overpriced chain hotel near the airport. You know, safe and hassle-free. (We’ll see.) Then I’ll make my way into the chaos of Paharganj, the notorious backpackers’ haven in Old Delhi. The neighbourhood is known for cheap hotels, shady dealings, and stomach grunge. Those shots you see of telephone poles matted with hundreds of wires – that’s Paharganj. The Main Bazaar is lined with hippie shops and internet cafés. There are Delhi residents who have never ventured, would never venture, into its crooked streets and alleyways. But there’s something about Paharganj that draws people back. Paharganjoholics, I’ve heard them called, westerners who first came decades ago, to return again and again. Dave is one such person. Anne tried to steer him away. I made a couple of suggestions for a nearby neighbourhood. But Delhi is Paharganj to him; he’s one of the veterans.
The advantage to Paharganj is that the main railway station is there. (Escape is easy!) And Dave found us a decent-looking hotel just steps from the station. We will be grateful for that when we leave Delhi, in the dark of very early morning, to set off for Rajasthan.
(See Dave's photos in the previous post, of the actual Paharganj)
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My friend Sheilagh was over for lunch the other day to talk about Sri Lanka, as she has just come back from a trip there. She showed me the guidebook she’d taken with her. Looking at it now, she commented on how differently we read the descriptions and look at the pictures once we’ve been. How true!
I will be arriving in Delhi by myself in the middle of the night. Anne and Dave come 24 hours later. I have visioned and revisioned my arrival, rehearsed my route, imagined my conversations with hoteliers. I’ve studied pictures and maps and read the advice of dozens of bloggers and friends. But I know reality is unlikely to resemble the place in my imaginings. That’s half the fun of travel: comparing the imagined to the actual.
I’ll spend my first night in a remarkably overpriced chain hotel near the airport. You know, safe and hassle-free. (We’ll see.) Then I’ll make my way into the chaos of Paharganj, the notorious backpackers’ haven in Old Delhi. The neighbourhood is known for cheap hotels, shady dealings, and stomach grunge. Those shots you see of telephone poles matted with hundreds of wires – that’s Paharganj. The Main Bazaar is lined with hippie shops and internet cafés. There are Delhi residents who have never ventured, would never venture, into its crooked streets and alleyways. But there’s something about Paharganj that draws people back. Paharganjoholics, I’ve heard them called, westerners who first came decades ago, to return again and again. Dave is one such person. Anne tried to steer him away. I made a couple of suggestions for a nearby neighbourhood. But Delhi is Paharganj to him; he’s one of the veterans.
The advantage to Paharganj is that the main railway station is there. (Escape is easy!) And Dave found us a decent-looking hotel just steps from the station. We will be grateful for that when we leave Delhi, in the dark of very early morning, to set off for Rajasthan.
(See Dave's photos in the previous post, of the actual Paharganj)
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It's true! we imagine a place because of the pics or travel videos we have seen. But when you arrive the smells, sounds and images are so much more alive! Culture shock can hit at any time. Be aware and let it happen. You'll soon adapt!
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