The Bryn has landed

The Bryn has landed and the adventure tour is on! Delhi continues to give in terms of its monumental architecture. Isa Khan and Humayun's tombs are pre-cursors to the Taj Mahal which we will see on Thursday. Both are majestic in their detail, open spaces and symmetry. The Jama Masjid is one of the largest mosques in the world, holding thousands, and you can climb a minaret for a bird's eye view of the city. The red fort reminds me of the Forbidden City in Beijing - a sprawling, walled enclosure with many separate buildings and walkways - a city within a city. A particular highlight for me today is being welcomed into the Sikh temple and kitchens to see how they cook for thousands of people each day for free.

The tour group has gathered, 11 intrepid explorers and our guide, Chime, from Darjheeling. Everyone seems friendly - there's a mix of Aussies and Brits, different characters with a broad age range. So far it's worked well and I'm looking forward to heading to the Taj tomorrow...

A tale of two Delhis

Jason Miller called the feeling of otherness in a foreign culture being 'superimposed' - like you've been cut out of one environment and pasted into a different one. I have definitely been superimposed on Delhi. If Mumbai was more chilled than expected, Delhi is India turned up to 11. It is noisier, dirtier, and more aggressive; and yet perhaps more grand, ancient, and open to being warts and all - I guess you have to take the bad with the good.

I have experienced persistent touts around my hotel and the tourist areas. They will claim anything - they're an English student wanting practice; it is not safe to walk so you have to take their tour; they can take you to the 'official' tourist office (where you'll pay too much and they will get commission) - it's all bullshit and I politely decline their advances.

On the plus side, I've seen people offering seats to those more in need on the metro; I've been approached by a few people being genuinely friendly and helpful, pointing out directions or train platforms; and met a lovely pair of Indian tourists visiting Delhi at Qutub Minar mosque.

This contrast of dark and light appears common in Delhi, or perhaps it is more evident here than elsewhere. An example is Chandni Chowk - a long, wide, thoroughfare in the heart of old Delhi. It is abustle with hawkers, taxis, rickshaws and tuk-tuks. Litter grimes the gutters. A man carries so many tin pots he can barely see where he's going. Cows pull carts loaded up to three times their height. Stray dogs jostle with raggedy birds for scraps of food. Steam rises from the sizzlings of street-wallahs. Amidst all this are fantastic ancient monuments: the red fort; the town hall; Hindu, Sikh and Islamic temples. There is an all-pervasive lulling of rhythmic drumming and chanting from the Sikh temple that becomes a constant hum and draws me in. I also come across a park just off the main street where I can sit un-molested whilst people meditate or stretch the night out of their bones. Serenity is worth more when surrounded by chaos.

In the afternoon I visit New Delhi and then Qutub Minar mosque. New Delhi i full of British pomp, a pall mall of Indo-European architecture and showiness, with long, straight roads for parading. Qutub Minar is part of one of the earliest incarnations of an Indian capital in the 11th century, and is a beautiful complex of Islamic architecture. All in all, a successful day!

Malabar Hill - 29 Nov 2013

This afternoon, Matt will catch his sleeper train to Delhi. I am impressed that he has fit everything into such a small backpack, and it's a good thing - today he'll have to carry it around with him.

We catch a taxi to the West side of South Mumbai known as Malabar Hill, and visit the hanging gardens. The taxi swallows us into the heaving, blurting chaos of traffic and spits us out a few hundred metres from our destination whilst stuck in a jam. The hanging gardens are more garden than hanging - awash with colourful butterflies, they are an oasis amidst the city's tower blocks.

We trek north, spying old colonial buildings amidst the modern flats, and enter the Mahalaxshmi Temple, where hoards of people are making offerings of flowers and coconut at the temple shrine. A quick stop for sugary, spicy tea from the chai-wallah (7 rupees each) and we mix our religions by heading along a spur cutting through the ocean out to the Hali Aji Mosque. The guy guarding our shoes introduces himself as James Bond and gives us headgear that may either keep us respectful in the temple or single us out as idiot foreigners. The whitewashed mosque cuts a beautiful outline across the horizon of sea and sky, and has a dazzling ceiling and calligraphied arabic writing across the walls inside.

Finally, we realise there is little time until Matt's train, so hot-foot it to buy him some snacks and get to the central station before I hop in a cab back to the sweet, sweet air-con of the hotel.

In the evening, Pat, Jan, and I head to the Leopold cafe, which is a-buzz with chatter and the quaffing of drinks. Bullet-holes still marr the walls and ceiling from the terrorist attacks five years ago. Jan remonstrates with the taxi drivers until we can find one who will take us back on the meter, and then I am left to continue the adventure on my own for a few days until brother Bryn arrives...

Sanaya and Zubin's wedding - 28 Nov 2013

Dressed in our wedding best, Matt, Pat, Jan, and I head to the Afghan Church for Sanaya and Zubin's wedding. Once we realised that one guy burning stuff in the churchyard does not constitute a wedding, we followed our noses to the venue just down the road.

Sanaya and Zubin each made their separate magnificant entrances looking spectacular. For a while they sat up on a stage, separated by a curtain, while their hands were bound together, and then the curtain was removed, symbolising their spiritual union. At this point, the couple sat on stage whilst priests made blessings and sporadically threw handfuls of rice into their faces. This seemed to go on for quite a while, with Sanaya and Zubin occasionally risking a peek, only to see another volley of rice heading in their direction. When the rice attack was over there were a lot of smiles and the couple looked incredibly happy. Following a short trip to the fire temple, the couple returned to the stage for everyone to go up and congratulate them, then the feasting and dancing could begin!

I am very lucky to have been a part of this special day - congratulations to Sanaya and Zubin and their families!

Elephanta Island - 28 Nov 2013

We sail away from Mumbai, the rippling water quelling the chaos of the city into a subdued yawn. Just one hour off-shore is Elephanta Island, home to hungry monkeys, street stalls, and temples carved into the stone caves. Amidst the forst of underground columns like a dwarven citadel, I halt at the statue of the three-headed Shiva; creator, preserver, and destroyer; whose close-eyed serenity envelops me.

More Mumbai

In the past 48 hours, amongst other things, I have: been interviewed about terrorist attacks by Indian news; told a drunken local that drink makes everything better; sat in on a case at the Mumbai high court; danced to D.I.S.C.O. and the birdy song; been provided with a veritable banquet by Sanaya's parents at the gift-giving ceremony; and generally meandered through the streets of Mumbai with my fellow European tourists. Today, Matt and I explored the museum, where Matt attempted to learn dance moves from the intricately-carved statues. I look forward to seeing the results at the wedding tomorrow!