The first thing that strikes you on arrival in Delhi is the heat. Exiting the terminal building for the transfer is like looking into a just boiled kettle. It's not so much the heat, but the humidity, clinging to you like a child with a temperature. You turn back for the air conditioning, but it's too late, you are swept along in a sea of people.
Spice things up Pa says: I had a curry on the plane, but it was a bit mild, so I guess that doesn't count. Non eventful flight. Jet Airways, an Indian carrier, is up there with the best, and certainly a step up (or two) from Air India. Now to Chandigargh via layers of Indian form filling and bureaucracy no doubt - just like Brussels then!
Have met a few of the other bikers, but none so that I tag along with anyone in particular. It's weird, there's about 25 of us dispersed around the internal flight terminal at Delhi. It's like a spy movie where we mingle, suspect some, but don't know for sure who the good guys are. But in some cases, the uniform of helmet or warm jacket are a bit of a give away in 30 degree heat! The age old biker nod follows.
Ice and yogurt with my lunch (more spice?) look tempting but there lies a direct path to the latrine for the next few days: do not pass Go, do not collect £200.
I just dropped my BlackBerry without realising. Fortunately someone pointed it out. If I loose communication suddenly you'll know it's because I've been an idiot - must take more care!
Chandigarh awaits. Phew! There's that humidity again on the way to the plane.....
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