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Travel blog: All roads lead to Delhi

Wednesday, 26 Mar 2008 10:46
The Baha'i Lotus temple in Delhi (photo: Natasha von Geldern)
Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before. One of his t-shirts is in fact more widely travelled after it was inadvertently whisked to Morocco in his housemate's suitcase. But a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe.

A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. He will be sharing his experiences from India and Nepal, south-east Asia, New Zealand and South America. This month he is reporting from India and Nepal. This is his first blog entry:

India was only meant to be a stop-off. Back in London, when I finally gathered enough courage to visit a travel agent and say 'one year - around the world', I had hoped to be eased in via eastern Europe.

But Delhi's good connections meant a short stopover in India would be cheaper - as are flights to all major hubs.

Although this meant I'd have to arrange my travels to Nepal myself, I consoled myself with the thought that a few days or a week in Delhi would be a good place to get used to the backpacking trail - and make flying visits to the typical tourist havens en route.

Arriving at 04.30 in my Delhi hostel fulfilled these expectations. After being picked up by a driver (very cheap to book through the hostel and vital if you're arriving in the early hours), the room awaiting me next to the Smyle Inn reception was decked out in backpacker chic - stripped beds, a erratically whirring fan and not a great deal else.

Still, there was impeccable service and cleanliness as I'd been led to expect by online reviews.

Excitement about finally making the first step on my travels left me with a mostly sleepless night - not helped by the 09:00 rush to check out that reached a peak just outside my door - but I slunk out of bed late in the morning to get my bearings.

Since India was a late addition to my plans, what I knew of Delhi came from a short guidebook that I flicked through a week or so before leaving.

The numbers of people, the noise and the constant bartering were no surprise but over the next two days I was shaken by the fact there was no relief from it.

Taking a brief look around the closest sightseeing areas and the Main Bazaar in Paharganj was an adventure in itself. But my naivety shone through brightly when I dropped into a travel agent to pick up a better map.

Somehow I left having had about four cups of tea and some food, as well as having booked my bus to Nepal and agreed to a short day of sightseeing with a guide. I’m not quite sure how!

I reasoned the day tour it would let me get a feel for the city, and the price seemed fair (2,000 rupees - around £25).

The size of Delhi makes it almost a necessity to take a car or auto-rickshaw between sites - with the Baha'i lotus temple, the stunning Qutab Minar, the heaving market crowds of Old Delhi and the majestic Red Fort among the most striking.

However, the tour was regularly interrupted by my guide Sanjay stopping at stores and asking me to spend ten minutes looking around - adding to what he earns from the travel company.

Although being shown high quality rugs and handicrafts was welcome the first few times, it soon began to grate as each stop led to me almost pleading with the salesman to let me leave empty-handed.

Try to talk your way out of this situation if possible, or simple put our foot down and demand no more stops.

On being dropped off at the travel agents, I was ushered inside for a further round of bartering - this time with a short trip to Kashmir on offer.

After a long day in the sun, I succumbed in my weakened state to culture shock and curiosity about this infamous state. I agreed to catch a cheap Jet Airways flight in a couple of days.

Two flights up to Srinigar and two nights in a houseboat on Dal Lake came in at £130. Above my budget, but not so bad I thought.

But as a final twist, I was asked to escort the travel agent's nine-year-old son back up to his uncle in Srinigar. I'm not sure whether I exude trustworthiness or if it was simply convenient, but I think my attempts to empty my wallet so far mean I'm the one in need of an escort!

Nick Claxton

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