Day Four: Delhi, Old Bazaar
Trip Start
Sep 21, 2006
1
5
228
Trip End
Jun 01, 2007
The tour group takes me back to Jama Masjid on a quieter day. I take the opportunity to climb the dizzying steps of the minaret.
Next we wander obtrusively through the Old Bazaar which dates from the same period as the 'Friday Mosque'. I stop to buy a selection of milky sweets for the group. Some are coated in edible silver. Another delicious treat we share is the Rabri Faluda, an unusual, filling blend of crushed ice, noodles, milk, honey and pistachios.
The metro back to Karol Bagh is a cheap 6-9 rupees. It's cooler, less claustrophic than the London model.
Tonight we're catching the overnight train to Jaisalmer. I stock up on samosas (10 rupees for two). The taxi to the station is an inch-by-inch crawl through impatient scooters, carts and rickshaws. We pass langurs balancing on the electrical wires above, and a shed of cattle feeding on a mound of waste. The Old Delhi station is in shade and breezy, and our sleeper train leaves on time. We're arranged opposite each other, three bunks high but our dreams are interrupted regularly by the squeal of the toilet door and more backpackers alighting at Jaipur en route.
Next we wander obtrusively through the Old Bazaar which dates from the same period as the 'Friday Mosque'. I stop to buy a selection of milky sweets for the group. Some are coated in edible silver. Another delicious treat we share is the Rabri Faluda, an unusual, filling blend of crushed ice, noodles, milk, honey and pistachios.
The metro back to Karol Bagh is a cheap 6-9 rupees. It's cooler, less claustrophic than the London model.
Tonight we're catching the overnight train to Jaisalmer. I stock up on samosas (10 rupees for two). The taxi to the station is an inch-by-inch crawl through impatient scooters, carts and rickshaws. We pass langurs balancing on the electrical wires above, and a shed of cattle feeding on a mound of waste. The Old Delhi station is in shade and breezy, and our sleeper train leaves on time. We're arranged opposite each other, three bunks high but our dreams are interrupted regularly by the squeal of the toilet door and more backpackers alighting at Jaipur en route.

