My God, It's Full of Stars...
We touched down about an hour ago. While my perceptions are blurred by a mix of jet lag, and cultural bias, Delhi appears to be everything I'd heard. It's Sunday here, so the streets are near empty by local standards, but it was enough to give me an idea. It's kind of like bats, acoustically navigating winding caves. Cars ranging from three wheeled contraptions (think VW-Thing), to mid-sized SUVs dance between the lanes, communicating subtleties of intent lost on me through delicate horn-honking. While the noise is incessant, it's not in an aggressive-let-me-through kind of way. As often as not, our driver would slow to let another car swerve across our lane. The priority seemed to be maintaining the current, not getting there first.
This was a much different scene than yesterday in London's west end. There, the streets are narrow and winding, with Renaults and Mini's parallel parked along every inch of sidewalk. Traveling about the same distance from Heathrow took an hour when in Delhi, it took 20 minutes. J spent 12 years living in the west end and glowed with pride walking us through the pubs he'd frequent. I wish I could have let the scene wash over me unfiltered, but too many episodes of The Office and too many films like Sean of the Dead have so colored my view of the British that I couldn't shake the feeling I was in a sit-com.
While the flight into London was nice, it didn't prepare me for getting a surprise upgrade to first class (sorry, "Upper" Class, thanks Virgin). Aside from the usual array of travel swag, and tasty foods, the seat is a little pod that transforms into a bed. It even makes that mwam-mwam-mwam-mwam Transformer noise. No. Not really. But they do have complimentary massage. No happy ending.
So here I am in a rather westernized hotel (It's beautiful, Hyatt. Really. You shouldn't have). I'm dead tired, but need to stay awake for another 8 hours to get on a decent schedule. S is going to take us sight-seeing. His family runs several schools around here (among other things). I think that's where we're headed. I will be on the lookout for blue war gods and armed elephants.
PS. I was going to title this post, "They Should Have Sent a Poet", but I prefer the more obscure. +10 Suicide Points for a citation. No cheating.
We touched down about an hour ago. While my perceptions are blurred by a mix of jet lag, and cultural bias, Delhi appears to be everything I'd heard. It's Sunday here, so the streets are near empty by local standards, but it was enough to give me an idea. It's kind of like bats, acoustically navigating winding caves. Cars ranging from three wheeled contraptions (think VW-Thing), to mid-sized SUVs dance between the lanes, communicating subtleties of intent lost on me through delicate horn-honking. While the noise is incessant, it's not in an aggressive-let-me-through kind of way. As often as not, our driver would slow to let another car swerve across our lane. The priority seemed to be maintaining the current, not getting there first.
This was a much different scene than yesterday in London's west end. There, the streets are narrow and winding, with Renaults and Mini's parallel parked along every inch of sidewalk. Traveling about the same distance from Heathrow took an hour when in Delhi, it took 20 minutes. J spent 12 years living in the west end and glowed with pride walking us through the pubs he'd frequent. I wish I could have let the scene wash over me unfiltered, but too many episodes of The Office and too many films like Sean of the Dead have so colored my view of the British that I couldn't shake the feeling I was in a sit-com.
While the flight into London was nice, it didn't prepare me for getting a surprise upgrade to first class (sorry, "Upper" Class, thanks Virgin). Aside from the usual array of travel swag, and tasty foods, the seat is a little pod that transforms into a bed. It even makes that mwam-mwam-mwam-mwam Transformer noise. No. Not really. But they do have complimentary massage. No happy ending.
So here I am in a rather westernized hotel (It's beautiful, Hyatt. Really. You shouldn't have). I'm dead tired, but need to stay awake for another 8 hours to get on a decent schedule. S is going to take us sight-seeing. His family runs several schools around here (among other things). I think that's where we're headed. I will be on the lookout for blue war gods and armed elephants.
PS. I was going to title this post, "They Should Have Sent a Poet", but I prefer the more obscure. +10 Suicide Points for a citation. No cheating.
breezey:
That is a very descriptive journal entry. I liked it, it really put the images in my head. Makes me wish that I was there instead of dreading work tomorrow.