AFTER OUR THREE-MONTH INDIAN ORDEAL in 2014 we'd had enough. It isn't that India is so bad, it's just the cumulative stress, noise, squallor and crowds that get to you. Yet here we are, freezing our butts in a third-rate hotel in smog-shrouded Delhi, waiting for the start of another Rockjumper birding tour. After only fifteen-minutes we were cheated by a money-changer, lied to by a taxi driver and over-charged for Diet Cokes.
Wonder where they are now? Mumbai ladies from 2014
As a reminder that people are intrinsically nice, the manager at Devrana Hotel let us have the room when we arrived at 10:30—for which we are eternally grateful. After twelve pretty-much-sleepless hours flying Madrid/Doha/Delhi, a nap was in order. Earplugs kept out most of the noise, a combination of honking horns and loud staff at the front desk but didn’t make the cold room any warmer. The air-conditioner is only for “colding” but our tiny electric heater is doing the job. Grateful again.
Only for "colding"
A show of warmth
With all of the birding hotspots in the world you may wonder, why India? The two-week trip fit nicely into our schedule and we’ve never been to the Western Desert region. We’re counting on Rob, one of our favorite Rockjumper guides, to handle the logistics and run interference. Connie hopes to crack 6000 species on the trip—we’ll see.
