Jet lag life. Not sure what time I feel like I'm on right now. The flight was possibly the worst flight I've ever taken. It had everything: turbulence, freezing AC, seats that don't actually recline, no individual TV screens (OK, I've been a bit spoilt on that front), ignorant flight attendants serving pure veg Indians "vegetarian chicken" and then laughing about it, oh and I woke up to the teenage boy sat next to me furiously masturbating under his blanket. That was probably the highlight. *But* the airport was fine, working ATMs and only an hour from start to visa to luggage to a taxi that actually cost what it should do. Although we did hit someone with our car today, he was fine though. It amazes me how things like that don't faze me at all anymore.
Changed hotels, and finally passed out only to wake up and it's night time here. Dragged myself out to bimble around CP for a couple of hours. Drank my first chai running across five lines of traffic.
I'm noticing all the things I remember (the smell, horns blaring, traffic, dust everywhere, crippled beggars with half naked children and the stares that come with being a white woman alone) and all the things I somehow forgot (the sheer volume of men and lack of women, the beautiful music of spoken Hindi and the taste of butter cookies as they melt). It's enough Delhi for me for now, I'll be back to pick up some loved ones soon when I'm more in the flow of life here again.
Back to bed for a 4.30am start to catch the train that will finally take me home.