May 31st, June 1st 1972: New Delhi

 Taken From All About My Hat The Hippy Trail 1972 ISBN ‎ 978-0993210716

NOTE:  Some of the pics that were not taken by me may be some time after 1972

There was a Spanish guy there, in Mr Jains hostel. He spoke English. He told Al about an 'Ashram' called Prem Nagar, in the foothills in the town of Haridwar on the Ganges, the Holy River, where they accommodated people free of charge. Then he told Al about the symptoms of Infectious Hepatitis, a yellowing of the whites of the eyes and the finger nails, how urine would look dark yellow to red, and stools would look pale. Al thought it was strange to be told that.

Then Al went to the courtyard and found Miriam sat drinking fizzy orange. Not having slept a lot the previous night, it wasn't long before Al said goodnight and was asleep.

The following morning, June 1st,  when Al awoke, Miriam had already left but she had left her bags so she would be back! Al had a light breakfast from the food and mangos he was still carrying and headed off to find the American Express office to check for money and then the Post Office to check for mail. He was pleased to find ten pounds waiting from Australian Paul and at the Post Office a letter from Paul and his wife.

With that he went back to his dorm and received bad news.

Miriam had made contact with her friends and they were planning to leave Delhi to drive to Nepal the next day. She invited Al to join them.

Al told Miriam that he had so little money and wanted to wait for more, but when he had more he would maybe travel to Kathmandu and leave a message for her at the Poste Restante, hopefully meet up again.

 

Connaught Circus and the immediate area was quite built-up, with roads off the roundabout in many directions. There was an incredible amount of traffic. It was a busy commercial area and the streets had large buildings, offices, shops and street stalls, some selling strange-looking concoctions of coloured pastes spread onto leaves and sprinkled with Betel nuts. Apparently the vile-looking leaves had to be chewed and spat out, and gave an exhilarating effect. Al could see the stains red around the mouths of some of the men and he could see where it had been spat out on the pavements. 

 The number of three-wheeler rickshaws was incredible, and any without passengers always seeking work, slowing as they drove past, offering lifts. There were also larger rickshaws carrying eight or more passengers and many over-crowded buses. Just off the big roundabout was the Indian Coffee House, in Mohan Singh Place. Nearby was an indoor market where Al found a many Sikhs selling their wares, one with cheap vegetable triangular pasties called samosas. Al visited that indoor market many times for samosas or dahl and chapatti and fruit-flavoured lassi drink lunches. That was where Al sold his camera, a week or so later.

 

 

The walk between Connaught and the hostel was of just about ten minutes but passed an incredibly smelly public toilet to be avoided at all costs. Al learned that water was only available through mains taps for part of the day, so the toilet was seldom cleaned.

This was India and the contrast between rich and poor was striking.

Many of the men wore white Indian Pyjamas, some just rags, whilst others wore western suit and tie. There were many westerners and Japanese-looking people, many in jeans and shirts, others India-style clothes and others dressed more richly.

Photos found on-line.