Meet the Ancestors

Monday 10 November 2008
Delhi

So I tried to catch up on all the lost sleep I've missed over the last couple of days. I fell asleep at 10 but then woke up at 12 when a whole bunch of fireworks went off nearby. I then can't get back to sleep again so I sit up and read a book or two, and update the blog. I drift in and out of sleep and eventually I fall back to sleep. I wake up and check the time. It's 11. Time for breakfast.

First task of the morning is to check the weather in Srinigar. Turns out it's pretty damn cold. I was thinking of doing a quick trip of Kashmir, but then I read the Lonely Planet which pretty much says don't even think about it, so that combined with the weather means that it's Rajasthan or bust.

I've already had a couple of quotes for Rajasthan trips, the cheapest being from the hotel I'm booked at, but I want one more opinion. I look for a tourist office nearby the hotel which was mentioned in the Rough Guide, but it seems to have disappeared. So I decide to book with the hotel. It ticks off most of the main cities in the state over 12 days so that seems cool enough for me.

I have a quick lunch in a cool café near the hotel, and then set off for St. James's Church, burial place of my ancestor James Skinner. Luckily it and my hotel are both close to metro stations, so it's an ideal excuse to experience what the Delhi metro system is like. However first I have to find the Metro, in the New Delhi train station nearby, but arriving at the station it's nowhere to be seen.

A quick wander and then after asking a few people I find out it's on the other side of the station. Walking through the chaos of the station is interesting, and also seeing that the gauge of the railways here is an impressive six feet or so.

Once in the Metro it's interesting to note that it's very similar to the Bangkok metro. Bangkok was built with Japanese help, so I'm guessing this one was too. The main difference is that there's no platform doors, it's very crowded, it has the same wide gauge as the above ground trains, and of course it's dirty as fuck. The other factor is that there are only locals on the trains, and I stick out like a sore thumb. People in Delhi aren't afraid of staring directly at you from two feet away if you're different. I find that looking straight back at them and saying “Namaste” with a wry smile on my face tends to make them a little more self conscious.

Once out at the other end I don't have my map, so I use the sun to navigate south to the church. I turn a corner and there it is! It's yellow. I walk up to the gate and guess what? The gate's locked.

A guy sitting on the pavement tells me to go to the next gate so I do. It's locked there too. There's a sign that Gate 3 has a buzzer that can let you in. I try to find something named Gate 3 but with no luck. I ask at a nearby book store but they can't help me either. As I wander back I see a groundsman walking around. I shout for his attention and though he doesn't speak English he lets me in. Result!

So I walk in to the church and there, in front of the altar, is the grave of James Skinner, ancestor and founder of Skinner's Horse. I buy a booklet about the history of the church and the man, and take a bunch of photos.

Mission accomplished. The next task for today was to fond some wifi to upload this tract of text I'm producing, rivalled only by Tolstoy's War and Peace, to teh interwebs. I need to get to Connaught Place, the dead centre of Delhi (after the cemetery) and flag a rickshaw. He says he's only going as far as the Red Fort, and isn't charging, so I'm not going to say no. We arrive at the Red Fort and I jump out and say thanks. He looks at me forlornly like he's expecting some cash. Maybe I should have given him some but if he says it's free I'll take him at his word. There's enough rip off merchants in this city not to give something back after all.

At the Red Fort I take a bicycle tuk-tuk to Connaught Place. We become caught in a gridlock to I ask the guy to turn round and take us to the Metro station we just passed. I want to be at Connaught Place as there are cafés with wifi there. The first one I find doesn't actually have it, despite what I read on teh interwebs. The second place I find does have it, though the staff claim it doesn't. Despite all that when I try to connect I have to pay by credit card, and for reasons that are too long to go into here, I can't and therefore I can't connect. No worries, I update my blog offline as I have been doing for the whole trip so far.

While I'm proxy-blogging I am called by Matt, one of the American students I met on Saturday. He's near my hotel and wants to go for a beer. I say I'll be there in 30 minutes and head back to the metro to make my way home. We meet up and drink, chat about laods and grab a bite to eat. Whenever he's next in the UK he's sleeping on my couch, that's for sure.

After he leaves I end up talking to some random Indian guy who's never left Delhi, but is toying with the idea of going to Birmingham University to do an MBA. He mush be fucking loaded, by Indian standards. Either way we chat for a bit, and then start talking to the table next to us, which comprises of two people from Croydon, a guy from an Oxford council estate, his girlfriend and a random Irish guy who's married to a Cambodian girl. While all this happens the Indian guy keeps on being called on his mobile by a Russian girl he met who keeps on hassling him for sex!
We all have a chat and I encourage the Indian guy to go to Birmingham, and as with Matt I invite him to London if he makes it to the UK. I drink, chat and then at about 12 make my way home.

Back in my room I decide to charge my electronics before my Rajasthan trip. The thing is that I have a European adaptor, and US / Australian adaptors, but none of them fit quite right. In what would be regarded as a health and safety nightmare, I fudge a European adaptor into the socket, and it seems to work. Bring on the Rajput, and the land of my ancestors.