24th Feb, 2017
I’m sat in a King-sized bed next to my Mum, sipping on chamomile flower tea. (Apparently we are Mr and Mrs on the reservations and there are no twin rooms left). The tea tastes delicate and sweet – far from the adjectives that I would use to describe New Delhi. But before I tell you about our Indian adventures, let me tell you about our journey here – how it’s been a bit mad from the start really…
“Our flight is cancelled!” My Mum screeched down the phone to me before 8am.
Well, it’s not is it.
London Heathrow are cancelling ‘some’ flights due to the bolshy nature of Hurricane Doris – but we cannot assume that ours will be a no go.
Convinced that we won’t be flying tonight, Mum still gathered up her bags and made her way to London from North Yorkshire. The plan was to have lots of reunion hugs, laughter and excitement over a leisurely dinner, before making our way to Heathrow Terminal 3 together. Wouldn’t that be boring and predictable though? So instead, the world decided to invent hurricane Doris which blew a factory roof onto the train tracks, which meant Mum almost got to London, but then had to turn back to Peterborough, catch 3 separate trains, be given false hope about a replacement bus service, follow a strange man because he told her he knew the quickest way across London, then not even be able to get off the train at one point due to the amount of human beings bunched up shoulder to shoulder, boob to boob, armpit to face.
She wouldn’t have made it in time to come to my flat first, so instead we met each other at Heathrow. Seeing as her blood pressure was already at a sprinting pace, it makes sense to just keep that running on a role, right? She had got one of those silly combination locks for her suitcase (I told her not to) and already she had locked herself out. Classic. Then, during security, she set off every beep possible. So many beeps – she’s practically released her own electro / techno album. She then had a heated discussion with a security guard as to whether the toothpaste in her clear cosmetic bag was the 100ml limit?
1) Hurricane Doris
2) Locked out of Suitcase
3) Security nightmare feat. Carolyn’s Rave mix
They say bad things come in threes. Maybe they (whoever they are) are right. The flight was ever so smooth and the 9 hours went by very quickly (literally quicker than Mum’s journey North Yorkshire — London).
New day, new rule. The queue through visa control was pretty painful – about two hours, moving slower than a snail. I saw a sign saying, “New Delhi, World’s Best Airport for the last two years.” Yeah, Ok…
Through security, we had to get readings of our fingerprints from the germ scattered / hand-sanitiser-sticky screen. Mine didn’t read too well and the security guard was not happy about it. “WOT IZ DIS!?” he yelled in a thick Indian accent as I tried to push my left thumb into the screen for the sixth time. He also aggressively quizzed me on my whereabouts. “Why you come to India? How long you stay? Who you come with?”
Then I thought he asked who my Professor was, to which I replied, “I don’t have a professor, but I work in a university.” Then I realised that he was asking me, “what’s your PROFESSION?” So even though he did not care whether I have a professor or not, I still technically answered his question.
The man waiting with the sign “Carolyn Mulligan” was a little annoyed that he had been waiting, getting a dead arm holding up that sign for over two hours.
On our way, on our way! When people tell you about the traffic and the noise in India being manic and insane, they do not lie. It was like Mario Kart, scoring extra points if you don’t hit the goat.
The hotel we are staying at is quite luxurious but in a very busy area that feels quite unsafe. A lovely girl, Leena, with a beautiful smile and kind eyes showed us to our room and treated us like we were precious jewels from a far away land.
No matter how much others warn you, we were still overwhelmed by the busyness of it all. Just at the right time, as our blood sugars reached a low point, we came across a kiosk serving chai tea, surrounded by locals. I ordered a ginger chai, jam-packed with warmth and flavour. I savoured every sip. We found a clear spot – sat, drank and listened to the music.
My dinner also received a gold star for flavour. It was a cauliflower curry from the ‘Medieval Delhi’ section of the menu. The popadoms were served with a chutney that – I can only describe as hot. I actually felt my stomach burn a bit. But that might be due to the fact that we haven’t eaten much today. Where did today even begin?
Which brings be back to the here and now. Somewhere in the last few paragraphs it became 24th February. So here I am: the evening of 24th Feb, in a king sized bed, drinking chamomile tea, wondering what the exciting, scary, enchanting India has in store for us….