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Jaipur - Delhi
E. Route : B--------- : ETD -------- : ETA ------- : Dist -----.
A. Route : Jaipur - Delhi : ATD 0818 : ATA 1655* : Dist. 157m.
- Depart Jaipur 0818
- 0825 - 0924 Visit to Nirmila School.
- 0955 - 1018 Fuel stop.
- 1138 - 1143 Crew change.
- 1300 - 1320 Shop stop (Alwar.).
- 1328 - 1345 Level crossing stop.
- 1600 - 1607 Coke stop.
- Arrive Delhi* 1655*
Est.A.spd. --------- : Gross.A.Spd. 18.2 mph : Net.A.Spd. 24.9 mph.
Stop time 2:11 hr : Speedo TD 10548 : Speedo TA 10705.
Comment ATA at Rabindra Rangshala, not outskirts of Delhi. An unusually slow day certainly on poor road, and I think, slow speed enforced by the danger of losing another tyre.
Jim Lindsay's diary:
2 September
The original diary entry was very short - 15 words - so this was not the most exciting of
days. We started the day with a last informal visit, to Nirmala School, which was run by the
parents of somebody a contingent member knew. They fed us fruit.
Subash had been pretty well invisible during our visit but now he reappeared and grabbed the
radio seat again. We headed for Delhi via Alwar, on a road which took us close to the edge of
the Rajasthan Desert. Not surprisingly everything was parched and our progress was slowed by
a constant of peasants walking, cycling, leading animals, or driving carts. We shopped in Alwar,
a little town under a hill with dark shops and monkeys hopping nimbly between different storeys.
Subash borrowed a blue denim hat I was very fond of and I was quite surprised I was able to
get it back when he left us without having to grab it from his head.
Things we remember by Liz Y
Unfamiliar, even mundane aspects of life in another country can interest a visitor. Perhaps that's why so much of
what we experienced on Comex is still etched in our memories.
Fifty years on, we might recall the tiny geckos lurking in the corner of a ceiling or a wall in Jaipur. Some say
these little lizards were useful, preying on insects, keeping them at bay. We might reflect on the anticlockwise
motion of a ceiling fan, how it stirred the still air sending a cool breeze into a sultry room, how it worked
the air like angled oars through water.
We would remember the street life, the tuk-tuk taxis and cycle rickshaws. We watched the exertions of rickshaw
drivers, as they pedalled their clients through the sun-hot streets of Delhi and cities in Rajasthan. We dodged
the ubiquitous motor scooters and wondered about the safety of women riding side saddle, perilously perched on
the pillion. We would remember the lively cafes of Connaught Place and were intrigued by menus in Indian idiom.
The Indian Coffee House offered "egg and slices", a nod to sliced bread of colonial times.
We would remember the cows in unlikely places, sauntering in the narrow streets near Chandni Chowk, wandering
amid the bustling crowds of a railway station, even mounting the steps of a busy footbridge. Eastern cows had
a different physique, with humps between their shoulders, droopy dewlaps and long, dangling ears.
Sometimes we saw graffiti scrawled on billboards and opportune places. I once asked Suresh the meaning of a
neatly chalked scribble. He laughed and said it was a four letter word in Hindi. The visitor sees only the
form not the substance. Then there were the public squat toilets, said to be better for health, but who could
forget the challenge of a slippery footplate, or that curious tap low on the wall!
Those who travelled on the Indian railways would remember the commotion, friendliness and chatter, the stifling
heat, the wide-open windows and the clanking rhythm of the wheels on the track. It was all go at the stations.
Tea was served through the carriage windows from a stack of little clay cups, known as kulhads, resembling miniature
flower pots. Hot spicy meals on tin trays were delivered the same way. The chilli brought tears to our eyes.
The tea had a distinctive earthy flavour. The unglazed cups were rough against the lips. Empty cups were tossed
out the windows to be recycled in the monsoon rain. The tin trays were collected at a later station.
There are 22 official languages in India. From this diverse sea, we learnt just a few words of Hindi, although
we found that many people spoke perfect English. We would always recall the warmth of an Indian greeting. In 2021
when we can't shake hands or see a smile behind a mask, we can still say "hello" the Indian way with a gently
distanced "namaste".
