Day 223: New Delhi
“Do we have to leave the Royal Penguin?” Lindsay asked mournfully as we rolled out of bed this morning. This little apartment has become like our second home! Lindsay has grown so fond of the tacky mood lighting and bizarre stuffed animals…and the food! The food is so yummy here!
“But we love Indian food,” Igor reminds her. Oh, yeah. I guess it’s time to move on to the next adventure.
We caught a car to the International Airport (thankfully, a huge improvement in facilities to the domestic terminal) and checked-in to our Air India flight (after the airline agent checked every…single…page of our passports to make sure we’ve never been to Pakistan). We had over an hour in the Executive Lounge at the Kathmandu Airport, so we settled down with our laptops in a secluded corner of the lounge…until some rather loud thumps from the ceiling startled us.
“It’s probably just someone walking on the next floor,” Igor said, dismissing the noise. Lindsay was willing to run with that, until the thumps started getting louder and more frequent. She flipped her sh*t when she saw the water-damaged cardboard ceiling tiles move.
“OK, THERE’S SOMETHING ALIVE IN THERE. I’M MOVING.” She picked up her computer and ran over to the safety of the occupied section of the lounge – if a rabid Nepali raccoon was going to fall through the ceiling, she wanted to make sure there were other travelers to throw in front of her while she made her escape.
We headed toward our gate an hour before departure, only to be bussed about 50m from the gate to *another* security line outside right on the tarmac outside the plane. 6 agents were LITERALLY checking every…single…bag and patting down every…single…passenger before letting them onboard. I mean, kudos for safety, but isn’t this a bit much? And, couldn’t you require boarding a little earlier than 30min from departure if you are going to subject 200+ people to individual searches? As a result, our flight to New Delhi was a good hour and a half late. As least the food was good.
Waiting on the tarmac for a good hour to board our Air India flight – at least the food is as tasty as I remember
When we got to India, we headed for the e-Visa line at Immigration. The lines looked deceptively short as the agents were glacially slow in processing each traveller. “Remember, don’t say you’ve been to Pakistan!!!” we unnecessarily reminded each other, giggling.
When it was Lindsay’s turn to go through, she thought the agent’s head was going to explode as he looked back and forth at her approved visa application, passport, and Immigration form…apparently the whole two-middle-names things was just too much information for him to handle. Luckily, he finally stamped her passport and let her though without additional questioning.
We met up with our driver, Avinnash, at the Arrival Terminal without a problem. He was anxious to get us on the road as we had a lot of sights to see in day one, and had already lost precious daylight from our flight delay. Igor insisted on a quick stop to the FX counter, which unfortunately for us said they did NOT take Nepalese Rupees. They advised we try Departures Terminal 4 – until then, we would have to carry a ridiculously thick wad of useless currency. We also hit up the ATM and took out 30,000 Indian Rupees (about USD $450) – all in 500 rupee notes. Igor wanted to do another transaction so we would have enough for the whole trip, but Avinash assured him we could visit another ATM later, “Don’t worry, sir!”
Welcome to Delhi! Smog is off the charts causing a run on PM 2.5 masks (luckily, we still have ours leftover from China!). As if the air quality isn’t polluting Indians lungs fast enough, we notice a pro-tobacco ad campaign on all the tuktuks in the city
Delhi is massive. Home to over 22 million people, it is made up of 9 districts including Old and New Delhi. Lindsay remembers driving through the deserted streets of Old Delhi in the middle of the night when she visited with Rose about 10 years ago. It was magical – narrow streets, deserted except for a lone cow decorated with marigold garlands and painted polka dots…at least until the scam artists who picked us up from the airport took us to the wrong hotel (long story – I digress).
Sadly, our fly-by of New Delhi skipped the old town and headed straight to the wide, imperial lanes of British New Delhi. We picked up our local guide (a Sikh gentleman whose last name was predicatably, “Singh”), and drove to the Presidential Palace and the India Gate. Luck was *really* not with us today, as the entire park encompassing the India Gate was locked off – looked like some dignitary was in town. Instead, we only got about 10min to gaze at the outside of the “Indian White House” before heading off for the next attraction.
A quick drive-by of the Presidential Palace, and a far-off glance of the lucky elephants protecting the outside
Our first real tourist stop was Humayun’s Tomb – a 16th century mausoleum which is said to be the inspiration for the Taj Mahal. Only in this case, the tribute was made by the wife for her dead husband. The “senior widow” of the emperor, Bega Begum, dedicated the rest of her life to building a grand mausoleum in honor of Humayun. She hired the Persian architect who designed it, and financed the entire project herself. She was also buried in the mausoleum after she died, along with several of other family members.
Visiting Humayun’s Tomb – a UNESCO World Heritage Site
Gorgeous Persian architecture on the gateways into the monument
Look familiar? Humayun’s Tomb was the architectural inspiration for the Taj Mahal
Beautiful marble lattice screens in Humanyun’s Tomb
Geometric designs – typical in Islamic art – decorate the ceilings around the mausoleum
Faux graves of the emperor and his family can be seen in the main hall of the mausoleum – the real burial chamber is in an identical room in the basement, off limits to tourists
Another tomb within the same complex, Isa Khan’s Garden Tomb actually predates Humayun’s Tomb by just a few years
Our next stop was the Qutb Minar complex, which was one of Lindsay’s favorite monuments when she visited India last time. She had just taken her final exam for her “Art and Architecture of India” class at Barnard, and was excited to see all the ancient buildings she had been studying for the last semester. Last time she visited the Qutb Complex with Rose, we had a horrible guide (part of the same company that scammed us at the airport), but luckily Lindsay was so knowledgeable about the history and points of interest, that we were able to ditch him while Lindsay prattled on. 10 years later, Lindsay still remembers the basics of the complex:
The buildings within the Qutb Minar complex were the first constructed by the Muslim sultans of Delhi in the late 1100s, marking the first Islamic Kingdom in India and their triumph over the defeated Hindus. In order to construct the magnificent minaret and nearby mosque, 27 Hindu and Jain temples were torn down and the stones were repurposed for the new monuments. Throughout the complex (but especially on the walls of the mosque), we could see elements of Hindu architecture (human-shaped figures of dieties, lotus flowers and bells) tucked away in corners or moved upside down on the bottom of pillars. According to Islamic beliefs, it is forbidden to depict humans and animals in religious art, so must of these figures were defaced in an attempt to “erase” the “idolatry.”
To make up for the loss of the ancient Hindu artwork, the conquering sultans erected a huge minaret, carving delicate Arabic script into the sandstone. At 239ft high, the Qutb Minar is the highest brick minaret in the world. While there is a staircase inside that leads to the balconies on each of the five stories, it has been closed since the 1970s after multiple suicide jumpers used it as a diving board, and a stampede inside the packed tower killed 45 tourists (many of them kids on a fieldtrip).
We arrive at the Qutb Minar complex just as the sun sets behind the battered archways. As we look up into the sky, we see the waning moon starting to rise over the mosque entryway
Passages from the Quran decorate the minar and mosque – made from the demolished remains of 27 temples – while the East side of the wall is all Islam, behind the wall you can still see the remains of Hindu symbols from the original buildings
The Qutb Minar – another of India’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites
Posing with our guide for a few quick pics in the beautifully decorated mihrab (prayer niche) in the Tomb of Iltutmish, second Sultan of Delhi
A flock of parakeets chirp incessantly from the rooftop of the tomb. Just outside, we can see the rough exterior of the unfinished Alai Minar. A bit of a vanity project by a sultan in the 14th century who planned to make a minar TWICE as big as the Qutb Minar. When he died, only the first story was completed – none of his predecessors thought the project whole the time or money to finish it so it remains a big pile of rubble
The Lotus Temple – an interfaith church where people of ANY religion can come to worship. Unfortunately for us, it is closed on Mondays, so we could only admire its unique architecture from outside the gates. Apparently the inside is completely devoid of any religious symbols.
As Igor likes to say, “It’s piñata time!” After visiting several historical monuments, our guide took us to a souvenir store (we were soon to learn this would be the pattern of our daily tours for the rest of the trip). We were taken to a Kashmiri carpet & textile shop where (supposedly) all the wares are handmade by a poor Kashmiri family who is in exile because of the Pakistan-India conflict. The sob story was pushed on us as hard as the carpets and shawls, so we were guilt-tripped into buying a very pretty pashmina scarf that we totally didn’t need. We agreed that from now on, we must be stronger and resist the sales tactics (unless we want to start carrying another 5kg of souvenirs for the rest of our trip).
We are the last customers of the day at the Kashmir Cashmere shop. After we are suckered into buying an overpriced scarf, we finally head out to our hotel, driving by the India Gate one last time as we say farewell to Delhi