Delhi is in your face, unapologetic and unforgiving. Culture shock was immediate, especially coming from shiny, happy Bangkok. Arriving by metro to New Delhi Station, we were still confident we’d easily navigate to the backpacker area and find a cheap hotel. Wrong! Emerging from the station we were hit with a blast of deep-frying street food, dust, exhaust, cow dung and urine. The road was jammed with people, cows, dogs, autorickshaws (India’s tuk tuk), cycle rickshaws, cars, trucks and buses, all moving, it seemed, in different directions with no discernible side of the road or right of way. The sound was deafening, rivaling China for use of the horn. Were we ready for India?

Disoriented, we head in the wrong direction, ending up on a road that was definitely not somewhere we belonged. We were nervous and discouraged and for as much as we were stared at, no one came forward to help. We were too overwhelmed to start asking around.We turned around and retraced our steps to the station, only to get off course again. This time, we were able to find an overpriced business hotel for the night. Room service is pretty  standard in India, and most hotels offer it at no extra charge, especially if they don’t have a dining room. It’s quite convenient, and we took full advantage that first night, since there was no way we would have gone back to the street after dark. The food was delicious, and our hearts lifted a little, dreaming of savory meals to come.

In the morning, we head out to find the elusive Paharganj. It was just a couple of blocks away, and we saw our first other tourist. This street is chaotic as well, but a bit more familiar, with tourist shops and restaurants mixed in with some local market stalls and stores. There wad a metro station very close, and after finding a new place to stay, we set off to explore.

Trains tend to be crowded, and curious locals love to get very close and stare. We quickly learned the benefits of the “ladies car,” and I used that while Donny stood in the next car down. Once you get a bit used to the staring, it’s easy to see that most of it is based in sheer curiosity, and a aftera hello or smile the gawking turns into a smile returned or at least a backing off. On the other hand, as a  woman here, it’s generally best to just not look back at all, and averting my eyes has become habit. Modest dress and covering up makes a big difference too, and with the cold, foggy weather that’s exactly what made sense.

Even with the garbage and sanitation issues in the city, the colors are beautiful. There are small shrines with Hindu deities covered in orange wax or paint, small offerings of colorful sweets, women in saris or salwar suits in every imaginable color: bright pinks and blues dominate, with coordinating scarves and shawls. They sparkle with silver and gold embroidery, metallic or mirrored accents and especially for married ladies, lots of bangles and jewelry. Even toes are adorned.

As we started to settle in and relax, we enjoyed the atmosphere more. It is often pure chaos, frustrating and aggravating, but we made an effort to slow our thoughts and minds and try and appreciate the city for what it is: there’s plenty to admire and enjoy.

In Old Delhi we visited several markets. The spice market at Chandi Chowk was an awe-inspiring collection of storefronts and mobile vendors thrown together with people on foot and in carts hauling almost unimaginable loads of merchandise. On the sidewalk and in the street men unloaded massive bundles from trucks or carts onto their heads and back into alleys or stores. Spices were shaped into volcano cones in shades of rust, mustard and brown. Others were pickled and stored in large jars, while dry red chilies overflowed from waist-high burlap sacks.

Another street is a maze of fabric sellers. Most sell just the material, and will fit and sew a tailored piece to order. It’s wedding season, so the shops were busy with brides to be and their families sitting on the floor while miles of silk and sparkle in every color and shade were piled ar their feet. Mens’ shops are abundant as well, for everything from Western suits to traditional garments.

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Architecture-wise, Old Delhi is punctuated by old mosques, palaces and halls in various states, from crumbling to spiffily restored. At the western end of Chandi Chowk we visited the Fatehpuri Masjid (mosque), an oasis of calm in the middle of the chaotic market. India’s largest mosque, the Jama Masjid is nearby. Built in sandstone and white marble, its towers, gates and minarets are truly impressive.

Bleachers were being set up along the wide Rajpath (king’s way) in preparation for the immense military parade in honor of Republic Day and the Beating of the Retreat festivities three days later. The govt buildings atop the hill at one end include the 340-room President’s House and the massive, domed Secretariats on either side of the street.  India Gate, at the other end of Rajpath is a national symbol. The nearby National Museum was a bit of a disappointment.

We were duly impressed by the site of Humayun’s Tomb, built in the mid-16th century. The entryway is towering and features interesting latticework, the architecture of the main tomb building beautiful, and the gardens sprawl out to several other tombs in the complex, the most interesting-looking of which was closed while being renovated.

Among other sites we visited, we really enjoyed the peaceful Lodi Gardens with lots of trees, flowers and several hugely photogenic tombs of ancient rulers. Nearby was the quiet, peaceful Safdarjang’s Tomb and grounds, a fine example of Mughal architecture.

Our last adventure in Delhi was buying a train ticket to the holy city Varanasi, made easy by the Tourist Ticket Office in New Delhi Station. We left feeling ready to embark on this India journey, and excited about what we were to discover next.

Some initial photos from Delhi can be viewed HERE, though we’re having some challenges getting things uploaded.