Dilli Dallying

D wakes around 4.20. There is a Welcome to Delhi text on his phone and Indiarailinfo says that the train is running 36 minutes EARLY. We quickly sort ourselves and our luggage out before sitting for ten minutes at signals outside NDLS (New Delhi railway station). We creep into platform 16 and come to a stop at 4.45 a.m., fifteen minutes before schedule. Platform 16 is good for us as we are going to kill some time in the Executive Lounge, which is just off this platform. The place where we stay in Delhi is pretty accommmodating but it would be pushing it to arrive at 5.30.  We have to exit the station and immediately reenter via the security checks to get there. We check in, bag an upstairs corner with sockets and go in search of tea. Over the next few hours they have either run out of cups, tea bags, hot water or a combination of these whenever we go to look. The free wifi is useless as well.

At 6.30 breakfast opens (100 rupees each not 200 as previously reported). Boiled egg sandwiches are just the job for us. R decides to have a snooze on the sofa while D heads out to see what is what. It is a misty morning but there is already the promise of a sunny day. The station does not seem to be particularly busy and there are no horrendous delays showing on the boards. Amazingly the National Railway Museum souvenir stall on platform 1 is open for business at 7.15. The Museum itself keeps banking hours and does not open until 10am. Outside the station on the Paharganj side, the touts are in full cry. The authorities must be aware and turn a blind eye to these people who prey on inexperienced visitors to India. "Where are you going?" they ask. Answering "Ghaziabad" seems to shut them up. It is a Delhi satellite town with a dodgy reputation and offers little profit to the touts. D's recce pins down the PrePaid taxi booth and the best way to get there whilst avoiding the touts.

Back in the Lounge R is still asleep and D has threaten to go into the kitchen to find a cup before all the necessary ingredients for tea are assembled. Back upstairs the noise is almost at Pathankot Cantt levels as people hoover, watch the TV news at high volume and shout into their phones in an effort to drown both. R just sleeps through, puir wee lamb. At 8.45 she stirs and we deem it sufficiently daytime to head for Lutyens Bungalow. Even if there is not a room ready we know that we can get a reliable cup of tea. The taxi booth has no queue and is quite painless. We are loaded into a microbus and set out through Lutyens New Delhi. The traffic is not too bad and the driver knows where we are going. At LB we are made most welcome as ever. Our room is ready and we are invited to have breakfast which seems like a good idea. We chat to A, a young lady who works for the Australian Government, and is working with farmers across India to find ways of improving crop yields and variety. She has been here for a few months and is currently equipping a flat to live in in Delhi.

After breakfast we opt for a half hour snooze which turns out to be two hours. It is now hot and sunny so we discard the fleeces and walking shoes and gear up for some South Delhi retail. Our Metro cards still work and even have 22.6 rupees credit each but they have upped the minimum recharge to Rs200. It's an outrage. The yellow line train into Central Secretariat is quite busy but R gets offered a seat, and the same again after we change onto the violet line for the trip to Kailash Colony. We walk about half a mile through to the M Block market. This is mainly fashion stores and jewellers who are on strike as a protest against having to start paying taxes. Our hearts bleed for them.  We walk on to the nearby more upmarket N Block market where R wishes to get another pair of trousers to go with her new outfit. D also finds a pair of slightly less formal trousers to go with his kurta.

The one woman reflation of the Delhi retail economy continues with a short auto trip to Lajpat Nagar Central Market. This is our favourite as they don't allow motorbikes in and there is no hassle or pressure selling. The list of kitchen equipment is soon sorted and we have a wander round the clothes stalls but don't really need anything. On the way back up to the metro we see a shop advertising Rasgulla. We were recommended to try this in Kolkata and more than once since, but finally got the opportunity to buy while hungry. It is cottage cheese, semolina and sugar syrup which sounds very unhealthy but the two dentist ladies from a couple of days back sang its praises so we think "Why not?". The AC in the metro was very welcome on the way back and we are glad that the heat has gone out of the sun for the half mile walk back to Lutyens from Race Course Metro station.

We have tea and rasgulla in the garden. Very sweet and it squeaks as you chew it. No doubt we will get Bengali readers telling us that you can't get the real thing in Dilli and we are in no position to judge. We prepare ourselves for the cocktail hour and enjoy a beer as the balmy evening turns to night. Supper at Lutyens is usually fun as you never quite know who will be there.  Tonight there is a table of seven ladies plus D. A is there from breakfast,  a Swedish lady who researches gender inequality and a group of four ladies from England who are travelling together and who arrived this afternoon.  One of this group we met here two years ago,  when she was travelling with her daughter. We talk crops, kabadi, pay gaps, where to go clothes shopping and D is on his best behaviour. Everybody is tired,  including us, so we turn in early.