Indian summer

No sooner had we arrived in Delhi than we experienced what the Indian monsoon is all about. I hadn’t appreciated the full meaning of a ‘downpour’ until now and our puny English rain is not a patch on this. The streets were like rivers and as we attempted to navigate our way downstream we were watched by sheltering bystanders evidently amused at our astonishment.

It’s all a little bit like Glastonbury really, only with less mud and more cows freely roaming the streets. These holy bovine drifters were also taking refuge under anything available and, which is their right here, often nudging people out of the way as they did so.





And then came the heat. The combination of temperatures around 37 Celsius and vast pools of water created a monumental sauna resulting in levels of humidity I have never before endured. So what better way to tackle it by doing some sightseeing (!!). After wandering around the Red Fort grounds in somewhat of a daze and heading onto the chaotic main thoroughfare of Old Delhi we were grateful for a break in the air conditioned mecca that was McDonalds. This stop was all part of the sightseeing of course as we were intrigued to see the usual Maccers’ menu minus beef. The ingenious replacements consisted of the Chicken Maharaja Mac and the McAloo Tikki Burger!





We also took in the impressive Jama Masjid mosque and the next day the serene Gurdwara Bangla Sahib Sikh temple as well as the national museum featuring some stunning miniature Indian paintings, a crazy selection of old sitars and other musical instruments and a fascinating section of ancient weaponry and armour.









We’re heading north to spiritual Haridwar next to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and so Grem can get in touch with herself and do some yoga while I sit about and do nothing!