Malaysian Airlines from Brisbane to New Dehli via Kuala Lumpar, and collected at the airport in a regular car, but after that the transport has been anything but regular. I soon discovered that walking in Dehli was difficult for many reasons. To begin with it's hot, dusty and noisy. Next is the obstacle course of pavements, roads, people and 'rough spots' to traverse. Perhaps even more challenging are the ever present offers of rides in and on anything with wheels. So began my relationship with getting around India.
For pure efficiency, the Delhi Metro is fabulous. In a city of more than 20 million people, it is clean, fast and frequent, plus on time. The more interesting side of the experience is the segregated security check before entering and the push on, before off, passenger etiquette. The end of any journey is a crush to the Metrocard exit ... and it's always a crush. Every hour it seems is peak hour. But after four days we were sailing through the process like locals; not unobtrusive with our fair hair and complexions but at least not traffic stoppers like the first day. That day we each had a Metrocard from our host, Amit, and we duly presented it on the touchpad. Brian got the green tick, the gate opened and through he went into the crowd. I got a red cross, and after repeated tries from me and the gate attendant, who was suitably unimpressed but polite, with my inability to master such a rudimentary task, I was stranded on the wrong side with no idea and no rupiahs.
Headline 'Crazy blonde foreign woman dressed in pink Shalwah brings Metro system to a halt'.
After frantic calling to Brian for money, and broken communication to the attendants I back tracked to the top-up booth, only to be told my card was invalid and I would have to post it back to get a new one! Asking the right and sometimes obvious questions help when information isn't offered and I eventually got out if everyone's way by purchasing a new card and holding my breath as I waited for the gate to admit me. My boy was at least easy to spot in a sea of dark skin and black hair.
Brian had booked us a 2nd class AC train to Amritsar, and we Metro'd to Delhi centre then made it to Delhi Railway Station as the last of the monsoon hit at 7am. Cabin service was the en route was the entertainment as we expressed our way through the countryside in the grey haze of rain.
There's been no looking back as we've taken cycle and auto rickshaws in Dehli and Amritsar alongside goats, donkeys and cars. We even cycle rickshawed through back alleys turned into running streams to a restaurant, Kesar de Dhaba, for the best vegetarian Punjabi food in the city.
The government bus from Amritsar to Dharmsala was an authentic treat of dust and noise and mad driving, much of which was our driver's. Every gear change was a grinding relief. Every bump a window rattling tribute to a long past suspension. It was then another local bus to Mcleodganj, and a tourist vehicle (taxi) to Naddi, where we arrived at our hotel after 8 1/2 hours. The journey was completely worth it when we awoke to predawn snow capped Himalayan mountains. We're hiring a driver tomorrow to take us 66kms to Palpung Sherabling Monastry, and it will be all day. Next will be a 'semi-deluxe' private bus overnight to Manali.
Oh, and I'm always on the lookout for somewhere to walk. Yesterday Naddi to Mcleodganj, decent 800 metres ... and back. But we did take the shortcut through the Buddhist school and forest trail, making a 5 km route into just 3 km, much to Brian's joy.
For pure efficiency, the Delhi Metro is fabulous. In a city of more than 20 million people, it is clean, fast and frequent, plus on time. The more interesting side of the experience is the segregated security check before entering and the push on, before off, passenger etiquette. The end of any journey is a crush to the Metrocard exit ... and it's always a crush. Every hour it seems is peak hour. But after four days we were sailing through the process like locals; not unobtrusive with our fair hair and complexions but at least not traffic stoppers like the first day. That day we each had a Metrocard from our host, Amit, and we duly presented it on the touchpad. Brian got the green tick, the gate opened and through he went into the crowd. I got a red cross, and after repeated tries from me and the gate attendant, who was suitably unimpressed but polite, with my inability to master such a rudimentary task, I was stranded on the wrong side with no idea and no rupiahs.
Headline 'Crazy blonde foreign woman dressed in pink Shalwah brings Metro system to a halt'.
After frantic calling to Brian for money, and broken communication to the attendants I back tracked to the top-up booth, only to be told my card was invalid and I would have to post it back to get a new one! Asking the right and sometimes obvious questions help when information isn't offered and I eventually got out if everyone's way by purchasing a new card and holding my breath as I waited for the gate to admit me. My boy was at least easy to spot in a sea of dark skin and black hair.
Brian had booked us a 2nd class AC train to Amritsar, and we Metro'd to Delhi centre then made it to Delhi Railway Station as the last of the monsoon hit at 7am. Cabin service was the en route was the entertainment as we expressed our way through the countryside in the grey haze of rain.
There's been no looking back as we've taken cycle and auto rickshaws in Dehli and Amritsar alongside goats, donkeys and cars. We even cycle rickshawed through back alleys turned into running streams to a restaurant, Kesar de Dhaba, for the best vegetarian Punjabi food in the city.
The government bus from Amritsar to Dharmsala was an authentic treat of dust and noise and mad driving, much of which was our driver's. Every gear change was a grinding relief. Every bump a window rattling tribute to a long past suspension. It was then another local bus to Mcleodganj, and a tourist vehicle (taxi) to Naddi, where we arrived at our hotel after 8 1/2 hours. The journey was completely worth it when we awoke to predawn snow capped Himalayan mountains. We're hiring a driver tomorrow to take us 66kms to Palpung Sherabling Monastry, and it will be all day. Next will be a 'semi-deluxe' private bus overnight to Manali.
Oh, and I'm always on the lookout for somewhere to walk. Yesterday Naddi to Mcleodganj, decent 800 metres ... and back. But we did take the shortcut through the Buddhist school and forest trail, making a 5 km route into just 3 km, much to Brian's joy.
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