Lying awake I pondered the troublesome question: "If you're not actually asleep, but lying quietly and resting, does it count as sleep? Can you include it when you say how may hours you slept?" I've never been able to answer that one.
After a yummy big hotel breakfast, Trent and I hailed a rickshaw to Old Delhi. It was an exciting ride, my first taste of India in the daylight and it was just as I expected - chaotic traffic, heavy pollution and wafts of unnameable, pungent smells.
I encountered my first cultural challenge en-route. A couple of young guys on a bike drove up next to us and smiled into the rickshaw. I responded with a flash of my pearliest, most hospitable smile, excited to be 'making contact with the locals'. Instantly, I saw my error reflected in the driver's dissappointed eyes and the over zealous reaction of the boys on the bike. I had given the impression I was 'available', simply by smiling.
I knew then, I would find the culture challenging. My natural instinct when I go somewhere new is to engage with the local people but I could see I would need to find a different strategy.
We visited the Jama Masjid (The Friday Mosque) which was quite impressive followed by the Red Fort which I found a little underwhelming.
View from a tower in Jama Masjid....Jama Masjid Courtyard....Mosque in Red fort
After a delicious souther Indian meal at Bannana Leaf in Connaught Place, we were transferred to New Delhi train station to catch our overnight train to Phalodi
As we stood on the station, we watched the golden glow of an Indian sunset. A few boys huddled around us to stare in equal measure at Trent's camera and the western woman. I averted my eyes and looked away, just as all the guide books tell you to do . I could feel that one was still staring and looked up. Was he considered a man or a boy? I couldn't tell. I took a chance and smiled. His stare dissolved as he broke into a huge grin and then sauntered off down the platform.
