Frippery and Finery at the Delhi Guest House

The usual way we travel to Varanasi, since they only have morning flights and no connections from Delhi at night (put that down on the list of inconveniences), is to stay overnight in Delhi one night to catch the 9:30am.  I round the corner out of baggage and there is my favorite driver Aarvind-- we both call out happily to see each other- its 8:30 pm, sometimes he has had to come to wait for me on a delayed flight until 2 am or something crazy, but that is his job.  I felt so terrible for him so I noted what a good time this was to get in.  He is such a bubbly and open friendly person, just a tiny little guy.

We get to the guest house in a "gated community" where many diplomats and important people live-- doesn't  it look beautiful? Picture from my room balcony.

room with a view

I had no energy or time to sit and chat with Sonia, the wife of Mr. Ratna, who also works for Banaras in Delhi doing all the metal work.  She had turned on the A/C 20 minutes before I arrived, the room was nice and cold, and she left me a little bottle of scotch with a bottle of tonic on my nightstand (this is what I and Mr. Ratna usually have together, but he was out of town) I thought that was so great, so perfect.  She left me alone and then--I couldn't sleep a wink due to some radio or tv next door blaring all night til about 3 am.  She lives one floor up, said she never heard a thing.  Maybe I am already hallucinating from lack of sleep?

In the morning the "boy" brings me my pot of boiling water to make my powdered coffee.  Sonia says in half an hour I will bring your breakfast.  Great!  But as per usual again, the offering is just UNBELIEVABLY bizarre and out of this world.  Noodles, a rotten chicken sandwich with melted mayonaise oozing out (who knows how old this is) and a large bottle of ketchup.  Thats just what most people outside the states imagine what Americans eat for breakfast, yeah?  

Always eat a hearty breakfast

Aarvind lives up on the 3rd floor of this house with his wife and kids, so he runs at a moments notice to drive the Ratna's or anyone they say anywhere they say at any time of night or day, short or long distance, no matter.  But this is probably a very nice life for him, to live in a "nice" a/c house with rich people, drive fancy a/c SUV, etc.  Very comfortable, except for jumping when they call I guess.

I eat some of the noodles and say I'm taking the sandwich with me so I can enjoy later.....with a big thank you I depart for the domestic Delhi airport.

Okay, so I remember that you cannot even enter the building unless you show the guards with guns your printed itinerary-- so how in the world could I imagine that showing them my droid phone with bar code and boarding pass would let me in?  Am I stupid?  this is india.  I must go to the Ticketing Office first.

I ask the clerk for the ticket, and she says .... ready?......

"System not working madam"  and "here this is your ticket"  but of course! a phrase heard at least twice a day in this country.  why didn't I think of that, this "ticket" is so official looking and standardized!  the gun toters let me right in.

And so on to just a one  hour flight to the holy city of Varanasi.  SpiceJet.  Its like JetBlue-- fun and high quality, low price.  I pre-ordered and paid online for a veg meal-- I was shocked and amazed to find it really delicious.