After our short visit to Delhi almost five months ago in the monsoon chaos and after having heard from other travelers of the city only in derogatory terms we were heading to the Indian capital with a mixture of excitement (as the last month was the most uneventful of our travels) for the hassle of city life and fear from that same polluted and noisy manifestation of life bordering with madness.
We had e-booked a room in hotel Ajanta and were pleasantly surprised to see how well kept and respectable it looked. An elegantly dressed young clerk greeted us in perfect English and invited us to sit in his office while he was what it seemed like feeling up some forms. After once more welcoming us to Delhi and offering drinks the clerk asked us to follow the hotel boy to our "room". You can imagine how surprised we were when we where walked out of the hotel where our backpacks already waited for us on the street. A taxi was called and our luggage was ready to be loaded on it.
Our expectations of hot shower and bed were so crudely tramped that we were stunned! Having overcome the shock we demanded explanation to such a "curious" way of getting to "our room" - the mumble of the clerk, who suddenly had lost his brilliant English could tell us only one thing - they were overbooked and were not going to apologize for it. Our only option was to accept a room in the hotel they had an agreement with.
Five minutes down the main street and were at a gloomy cold hotel which looked deserted by guests and overcrowded by the staff mingling in front of the lobby's wide screen TV. The only room we like turned out to cost double the ammount we had paid over Internet and exasperated we decided to go back to Ajanta and as for a decent room.
The taxi that took five minutes to deliver us from Ajanta now did not arrive in half an hour, and living the new hotel's manager on the phone with Ajanta, we headed there in a rickshaw.
By the time we reached Ajanta I had lost all my calm and was steaming with righteous indignation. My adrenaline was high up and I was fully engaged in my rage. I realized later how difficult it was to detach from anger, how powerful it pulled me in, how willing I was to embrace it. I was terrified to admit that I even enjoyed this stir of energy that made me feel entitled to action...
While Misha was equally unhappy with the situation, his composure could be only envied. Once we arrived to Ajanta, still having no explanations given to, Misha asked to speak with the owner of the hotel. From what appeared to be an amiable conversation one thing was clear - we had to go back to the other hotel, where we were promised the room we liked.
Back in the "sister" hotel we were ready rest when the hotel manager announced that the room was booked. In a matter of 20min! At 11 p.m.!
Again Misha asked to be connected with the owner of Ajanta (who we were told owned this hotel as well - another lie!) and he added he would like to have the phone number of Delhi police.
It is still a mystery to us which of the two helped the vacancy of the room, but we were immediately given the key and asked to register, which we did for the 2 booked nights (the number of nights was later conveniently forgotten by the manager and we had to prove our booking while rushing to the airport).
Oh, Indian inventiveness! It kept us alert and gave hundreds of opportunities to practice self awareness and acceptance.
