Between buddhas and yogis

In Kanpur we were picked up by two servants with a jeep with a blue light on the roof. I had expected anything, however, certainly not a car with white curtains and terrycloth-covered seats.

As Manu had sent ahead his motorbike by train from Delhi, we first had to pick it up from the 'railway mission' before heading home. This also meant that I would have to take a seat on this posh ambassadors' back seat all by myself.

As Kanpur is not a typical tourist destination, I attracted the attention of the complete city as an obvious European. Quickly, small groups of spectators gathered in order to look at the blond girl in amazement and with great curiosity. Now, I definitely know how a monkey feels when the small children press their noses against the glass in order to catch a glance at the exotic species.

The following video will show a brief impression of the way from the station in Kanpur to the family domicile.

After a brief, however, very intensive and impressive stay in Delhi, we will be taking the train to Kanpur, a little further east. The tickets for the train have to be booked previously as in India the trains only accept so many people on the train as places are available. In contrast to the German train service, here, there is a warranty that one can travel in comfort.

With a taxi (proper four-wheel drive) we started into the direction of the central station at 04:00 in the morning, on the way there, we drove past all of the embassies, all of which strictly guarded and surrounded by walls and fences.

Having reached the station, we drag our bags up the stairs and make our way towards the correct platform. An alternative means of transportation for our luggage would be hiring one of the baggage boys. All of the seem to be no taller than four feet and are amazingly balancing several bags and suitcases at one - on their heads!

As we reached the platform, we had to search again, this time for a poster where the traveller will have to find his name. On this particular piece of paper, one will find the carriage as well as the seat. Having booked the ticket together, however, does not mean that you also will be able to sit next to each other - in this case you will have to rely on the friendliness of your fellow passengers.

During the train journey, the service personnel provides tea and bisquits, breakfast as well as complete meals on board - all included in the ticket fare. Thus, one is all around taken care of and even the daily newspaper is being handed out, in Hindi as well as English to shorten the time of the journey. And shortening the journey is definitely necessary in some cases: the occasions are not rare when the trains have to slow down because of the thick winterly fog that settles across the country during December and January. Delays of up to several hours are very common, however, do not bother most of the people, as the train goes straight from A to B and passengers do not have to change in order to catch a connecting train.

During our stay in Delhi, rickshaws are one of the most common means of transportation next to the metro. Whoever has bad nerves, however, should truly reconsider a journey to India very carefully. The traffic situation basically does not have and rules - it's Hobson's choice and may the fastest win are the mantras that everybody follows. Naturally, one always needs to keep one hand on the hooter, instead of the indicator, this seems to be the most favourite function of evers vehicle. Indicators, wing and rear mirrors as well as to comply with the carriageways (if existint) are considered overvalued. The one who is on the road the first time in India will have to discard all known rules in order to move forward. Shyness looses, boldness wins, thus: just speed up!

The video below will give you a brief impression of the evenly traffic in the capital. In case you were lucky enough to find a driver, who would drive you for an acceptable price, you are ready to go. Concerning the fares for the route, everything is possible and one should be a good negotiator. As a ground rule, foreigners will have to 'more' which can easily mean a mutiple of what an Indian would have to pay. Therefore, the two of us developed a special tactic, meaning that Manu would negotiate the price during which I would make myself invisible until everything was fixed. As soon as the price was right, the driver could not do anything about the white girl. With this approach we earned an evil eye and scornful words more than once. However, it worked nevertheless ;-)

Having arrived safely in Delhi, we went on a little exploration tour of the city. On of the small and funny details we discovered was the rules at the metro station. For example, you will have to pay a fine, when you are being caught, sitting ON TOP of the train.

The first step of my journey I have already put behind me. The flight from Rome to Dubai was uneventful and without significant incidents. Meanwhile, I have fought my way through the transit security controls to the trains, which take passengers to the respective gates. The perfect place to pause for a moment and assess which bypassing crowds. One of the Emirates ladies walks past me and gives me a beaming smile. The scarf that appears from under her hat running all the way down along the right ear is then twirled twice around the neck and would probably drive me mad if I had to wear it - but of course it looks very chique. A gate train arrives at that very moment and a large group pours into the marble lobby. A small team of elderly women, all dressed in brilliant white lurches among the other newcomers and goes straight for the passport control. A  20-headed family approaches, the women all draped in black burqas that are artistically embroidered on the sleeves. A lady's smokey voice breathed an announcement in Arabic into the speakers of the hall. A security officer flits past my vantage point. Then the clatter of a pair of high-heels becomes audiable on the polished floor and a young blonde awkwardly stalks over - it is the perceptible look on her face that proves that she has been regretting the choice of her footwear for hours already. With a quiet bing, the doors of the elevator open and a thin Chinese girl jumps out. Despite the 25°C ambient temperature, she is wearing a pink down jacket, black-and-white boots with a reirdeer animal pattern on the shaft, a scarf from dead animal and to top it all off, fluffy, pink earmuffs on her head. In her arms she carries an overdimensional teddy bear. A little girl is expressing her nose against a glass window, looking longingly at the plush animal.

Several sheikhs in their white robes and the typical headgear rush past gesticulating frantically. They are followed on the heels by a little Indian girl who has probably broken loose in the heat of the moment - running right behind her: her parents trying to capture the small outlier again - she squeaks happily when her father seezes her and laughingly swirls her around.

In the background of the hall, I can hear the quiet splashing of the waterfall that is running down a huge disc and adds a little movement in the air.

Then my mobile phone pulls me out of my thoughts, my parents sit with a glass of red wine in front of the computer and wait for further news from their travellors' child. So, I leave my observation post and am on my way to my gate, hoping to find a functioning wireless network.