This update just bounced back to me and I don't want you to miss it.
From 12/2:
We have been so busy that it has become a battle between blogging and sleep ... with the obvious outcome.
We arrived in Delhi on Wednesday the 1st after our midday flight from Bangalore. The new airport there hasn't been open long, and it is the usual blend of incongruities: spacious car park but woefully inadequate access roads; the latest in toilet fixtures but the same old stink; attractive landscaping marred by piles of rubbish (mostly plastic bags) thrown out of car windows.
The drivers I've hired in India have always been exceptional, but this one missed his calling as a Keystone Kop. My travel agent sends the local car-hire agency a detailed itinerary for his arriving passengers. This driver did not or could not read his. He waited for us at the INTERNATIONAL terminal. When we finally got him to come to where we were waiting ("Please come to the Domestic terminal!" ... "Yes madam, International terminal, I waiting") he led us to our rented SUV and began loading our baggage.
He was a very slight man, so he had to use all of his strength to fold up the seats in the far back and hoist our bags into the newly-created space. The only problem was that only 3 seats remained in the vehicle for the 5 of us. It took us quite a while to communicate this to him. While loading, he apparently had no energy left for listening. Finally I counted loudly for him in Hindi:
"Driver Sahib!! See ... 5 people, only 3 seats!"
"Ohhhh ... 5 people???"
"Yes, Sahib, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5".
"Aachchaa? OK, OK, no problem".
He took out all the bags, flipped one far back seat down, and attempted to reload all 5 in space enough for 2 1/2.
Whoa! "Driver Sahib! Stop! 5 people!"
"Ohhhh ... 5 people???"
"YES, SAHIB! 5 PEOPLE!!! Bags go up!"
He stared at our bags with great disappointment. This was something he had clearly not anticipated. With help from traveling companion Erling, who did most of the heavy lifting, he eventually found a configuration that allowed our bags to fit on the roof rack.
He seemed very relieved when this was all done, and allowed himself a nervous smile while motioning us to get in the car.
"Wait, Driver Sahib! You tie with rope!"
He stared at us with total incomprehension. We pantomimed the act of securing our bags to the roof rack (this is standard in India) and eventually got through to him. He went rummaging through the back compartment and proudly produced a length of rope.
"See, Madam? No problem!"
Immediately after leaving the airport we entered a hideous traffic jam that limited us to 1km in 30 minutes. Apparently we got there at a good time of day.
Our itinerary requested that we drive down Rajpath and stop at a place where we could photograph the iconic India Gate. Before reaching that part of the city, the driver really hit his stride. He began pausing to point out every 5-star hotel we passed. Never mind when I pointed to an interesting building or compound and asked (in Hindi) what it was. He was already preparing for the next 5-star hotel.
As for India Gate, when we reached its general vicinity, he waved vaguely in its direction and said "India Gate, Madam. Now hotel?"
We tried to ask him to stop and circle around for a better look at Delhi's most famous monument, but he had clearly had an aural seizure leading to temporary deafness.
Typically, drivers determine from the client's itinerary what locations must be found, and prepare ahead of time to avoid getting lost. This fellow must have been a recent migrant from a distant planet. Our hotel sat in a neighborhood filled with dozens of similar lodgings almost entirely inhabited by foreign travelers. In other words, this was tourist hotel central, and almost adjacent to the New Delhi Train Station.
Our driver had to ask for directions 4 times. When he eventually found the right street, we had to find the hotel. By that time he had given up any semblance of trying to guide us himself.
The next time we saw him was two mornings later when he glumly loaded our baggage atop the car while we settled our bills. Mind you, he came 15 minutes late and took almost 30 to secure the bags. Our next stop was the nearby Rail Reservation Center, where we were to meet our guide for an interesting walking tour. We were already late, but I had a detailed map to show him, and since the RRC was NEXT TO the train station, it was reasonable to expect our driver to find it without delay.
Wrong-o.
Later we headed for the airport for our flight to Kolkata. As we approached the terminals, I said loudly:
"Jet Airways, Driver Sahib".
He nodded. A few moments later, at a critical junction, he turned to me and asked:
"International Terminal?"
"NO! Domestic flight! To Kolkata!"
"Ahhh ... Kolkata. International Terminal?"
"NO!!! DOMESTIC FLIGHT! JET AIRWAYS!"
He veered in the right direction at the last moment. Then came an immediate junction with a big sign saying JET AIRWAYS.
"DRIVER!!! Jet!!! Jet!!! THERE!"
He crossed 3 lanes of traffic at top speed to make the required turn. We were all pale and sweaty at the thought of going around the airport again in the horrible traffic. But the driver was positively chirpy. He smiled broadly, waggled his head from side to side, and said,
"See, Madam? No problem!"
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