Dec 2011

At 9pm on Saturday night I started to hear the music. I'd just got in to my room after a yummy chicken Biryani and was thinking of settling into my book for a few hours when I became aware of trumpets and drums. Looking out of the window I saw a strange procession of lights making its way very slowly up the road. I was looking down from my 13th floor room but could make out a pair of white horses pulling a wonderfully decorated buggy with someone in it. I decided to investigate further...

Down in the hotel lobby the noise was considerably louder. Once in the street I was engulfed by women in brightly coloured saris and men wearing white or black suits - everyone was dancing! I felt very scruffily dressed in my jeans and polo shirt surrounded by such wonderful silks with gold braid in a cacophony of colour and vowed to buy at least a pretty scarf.

The band were a motley crew of men each in a white costume with a large fan of red and gold on their heads! They looked like rather strange cockerels and sounded about the same!! They looked wonderful in their ill-fitting uniforms with trainers on their feet!

The groom looked suitably nervous and was accompanied in the buggy by four children, the little boy next to him kept poking the girls with a gold stick!

It was a delight to watch and everyone welcomed me with smiles and nods. I asked someone if it was OK to take some photos and they looked puzzled that I should ask - everyone else was - but it seemed only right to ask. The photos are not good as I didn't want to use a flash and everyone was moving so fast with their dancing ... most are a bit blurred!

They drew the groom towards the hotel function room and it is tradition for the brides family to persuade him into the hall. I asked if the bride was in the hall but apparently she stays in her room until the actual ceremony.

After a while I left them to celebrate into the night and took myself of to the bar for a G&T.

Walking through the arrival gate I am braced for India's worst but it doesn't come. I've read quite a bit about India and was expecting a seething mass of humanity but, although there were about 200 people milling around, it was all rather calm.

After a short visit, I left London on Tuesday evening and now it was very early on Thursday. Despite a row of taxi drivers waving paper with other people' s names on my guy wasn't here - I had booked it in the UK. After waiting for an hour I contemplated pretending to be "Mrs Schmitz - Lion Tours welcomes you" and taking someone else's taxi but gave up instead and recruited the aid of a man selling hotel rooms. He phoned the hotel who arranged a taxi for me, unfortunately he told the hotel I was very angry with them for not coming to get me - a total fabrication as the hotel were told I had a private transfer. Hotel reception were mortified and kept apologising and I had to explain several times what had happened ... I eventually fell into bed exhausted at 2.30am!

Looking out from my 13th story room with vultures wheeling past the window I can see a 25 carriage train being pulled by an exhausted engine, people leaning out of the doors as it gathers speed heading south. Lots of green moto-rickshaws whizz along, their yellow tops shielding the occupants from the Delhi grime. Last night the smoke from a million cooking fires hung heavy in the air leaving a misty residue this and every morning.

But I have to leave my bubble and venture forth... with excitement and slight trepidation I step out into the Delhi street.