Delhi, Monday

1501 I appear to have been ripped off by the airport ATM. I withdrew 10k, when I paid for the taxi I made a fool of myself by handing over a note which I 'knew' was a 500 as I chose to get all my withdrawal in 500s, and it was a 100. Allowing for the 500 spent one way or another on the taxi, I evidently got 19 500 notes and a 100. I can't quite believe the ATM would deliberately fuck me over, and I struggle to believe they misload it to fuck people over either. [Guy just came in with a toilet roll and some slippers. I had cash on the bed, I covered most of it over but FFS. Are all these visits necessary? I AM FUCKING LOSING THE PLOT AND I HAVE LITTLE CHANGE TO TIP WITH. I still don't have my passport either.] The most charitable interpretation I can put on it is that they have charge me a 400 fee which came out of what I asked for rather than being on top of it. I am a bit dubious but I guess we will see what happens with future withdrawals.

I don't think I am going to be able to stick India if this tipping business is going to be such an issue. I can't go handing over a quid to every single person I speak to, but equally I don't want to be unnecessarily stingy.

Also, with the cab driver, FFS, I paid for a private cab and he then wastes half an hour, probably more, of my time taking this Australian chap over to the other terminal. I didn't *mind* but way to kind of screw me over then tell me I haven't tipped you enough.

1538 No sign of the passport yet. Still, if I'm not tipping, why would they bring it up? I did offer to go down for it but they said they'd send it up. I don't like being separated from my passport at the best of times. I suppose the one consolation is that if it *does* get stolen, I can spend a day or two queueing up at the UK passport office for a replacement, and it won't matter about losing the Indian visa because I'm already here (and if I get my passport stolen within three hours of arriving, I'm probably not going to want to stay anyway).

1823 Back at hotel. I may be overreacting but I HATE FUCKING DELHI. Will write more later. Time for dinner, i.e. what I could obtain at the convenience store down the street and didn't have to discard after paying for it because they don't have any plastic bags.

1912 OK, bit calmer. *Not* going out again, I'm writing tonight off.

So, I wandered down the street, into the convenience store down the road recommended by the seems-fairly-nice chap at hotel desk. I left my passport with him, I don't have a receipt for it - he sort of offered me one but what's the point, if I don't trust him the receipt does no good anyway - but it's probably OK and after tonight, overreaction though it is, I feel happier knowing it's probably safe back at the hotel.

Convenience store sort of big but a bit run down. Anyway, I bought a bottle of diet fizzy apple juice with caffeine, something like that, and a small Cadbury's chocolate bar. I ate and drank those mostly while stranded on a traffic island up one end of the street. I was basically just intending to do a little circuit, see if anywhere looked OK for food and/or beer, and probably go back to the hotel.

In hindsight that was all fine. Yes, it was noisy. Yes, the traffic was heavy. Yes, I nearly got hit by a motorbike coming out of a side street. Yes, there were a lot of people about. But it was OK, moderately exotic and certainly tolerable.

Inferring the street names from Google Maps now, so they could be wrong, I think I went along DB Gupta (road my hotel is on; that is, incidentally, about as identifying as saying 'the guy's name was Smith'), crossed over to Sang trashan marg via that traffic island then turned back 'parallel to DB Gupta' along Gurudware wali gali. That's where it all went wrong. That street, whatever it's called, is heaving and it seems thronged with tourist agencies and the like. I got a fair way down it without any problem, then some chap started talking to me. Clearly the hook here is that you don't feel you can be rude to someone making pleasant conversation. Anyway, he was from the Invicta travel agency (IIRC) and he inveigled me in. Apparently they are in Lonely Planet and they showed me some glowing testimonials. I lied and said I was there for two weeks. Anyway, they sketched out a 10 day itinerary (no price) and also said something about arranging a car and driver for about 5 quid from 11am to 5pm to see the local sights. They may well be reasonably above board, however I am strongly disinclined to ever set foot in that street again anyway.

After I left them I was accosted by a youngish chap, Raj, who told me he was a student and didn't want paying and just wanted to practice his English. I didn't really want his company but the whole politeness compliance thing meant I felt compelled to allow him to lead me down to Connaught Place. I was keeping an eye on there being other people in the streets and it was just beginning to get dark and I didn't really like it but didn't see what I could do. He dropped some hints about a beer or a chai with him or maybe one of his mates but I pleaded jet lag. I started to say I just wanted to get a taxi back to my hotel and he said there was a taxi rank up ahead blah blah.

Anyway, we ended up at some tatty looking tourist office (though the taxi driver also indicated an equally tatty looking tourist office, so maybe it was genuine). Anyway, it's like 75% of the way to full night at this point and there's him and about four other guys outside and they're telling me I can get a map inside ("I already have one" "No, a better one than that") and when I say I just want a taxi back to my hotel they say they will arrange a complimentary taxi for me inside. Yeah, right. At this point I decide there's no mileage in the politeness thing so I sort of turn round and walk off. Raj sort of comes after me and suggests I get a tuktuk, but I say I want a proper cab and walk on and he evidently gives me up as a bad job.

At this point I want to hail a cab off the street but I can't find one. A beggar comes up and wants money for chapatis and if I'd been walking along the street knowing where he was it would have been OK but I felt really freaked out and compelled to start walking. Some other helpful chap on the street asks me what I want and waves towards yet another tourist information office when I say a taxi. I double back and walk away and he calls after me that he doesn't want anything. My GPS is working and if I could just get some FUCKING PRIVACY to look at it I could walk back, but I can't.

A tuktuk comes past at this point and offers its services, and feeling rather like I'm escaping from some dastardly plot I leap in and tell him to take me to my hotel. We seem to be going a while and I naturally worry he's taking me somewhere else. However, I dig my phone out and the GPS shows we are indeed going towards the hotel. A tiny girl tries to beg persistently from me as we're stood in traffic but I need all my pity for myself and fob her off relatively well, the driver eventually shooing her off.

Seeing we are back on DB Gupta and wanting to get supplies at the convenience store I tell the driver anywhere on the left is good. (I do like it that they speak the same language as me here, but at the same time it's like the locals all have a secret code language as well. I think - but not sure - the group I walked away from outside the first tourist information office were all speaking what I assume was Hindi between them.) He pulled over and I asked him how much. He said it was up to me. I asked if a hundred would do him. He said fifty more. I said 'have 200'. [Someone just brought my passport up to my room. WTF? Sod it, I will hang on to it tonight and maybe hand it back in for safekeeping tomorrow. I didn't tip him.] I suspect he completely shafted me (based solely on the fact 150 seems a sizable fraction of the 425 it cost for the 45 minsish trip from airport) and also do wonder if I should have haggled when he said 50 more, but a) I have no idea what's fair and even had I read it couldn't trust the stone-age guide book b) he did get me out of what I imagined to be a shitty situation c) he did at least take me where I wanted d) in some sense I felt I lost any right to argue about the price when I got in without asking him the fare up front. I could have waited for 50 change but somehow I felt like giving him the 200 and just walking.

I then walked up and down DB Gupta missing both the hotel and the convenience store but that was OK because DB Gupta is busy but not rife with touts. I then bought some water, crisps, biscuits, peanuts and a razor at the convenience store. This is when it turned out they don't supply bags so I had to leave one of my three bottles of water behind (only cost about 35 rupees but still) and awkwardly lug the rest back by hand. Fortunately it isn't that far.

I then shoved food down my gob for the period between the back at the hotel entry and the start of this one. It's 1939 now BTW.

Honestly not sure what to make of them giving me my passport back. Is it just a mistake? Did the guy at the desk want an up-front tip for keeping it? Fuck knows. If there's any chance of a repeat of tonight's shenanigans I don't want it on my person, as I say I will hand it in at the desk tomorrow morning.

Oh, Raj (but not Invicta) said there is some big political shit happening tomorrow which could kind of trap me in Delhi for 4-5 days. I am assuming given Invicta didn't say the same, that this was some schmuck bait to pressure me into booking shit at the tourist office. Everyone (taxi driver, Invicta, Raj) says it's a bad idea to waste time in Delhi (the chap at Invicta said 'Delhi is hell-y' which is probably trite but summed up my experiences earlier nicely). That may be the case but I've paid for four nights here and I'm not legging it immediately. I may well write off one night depending on how it goes.

I think the lessons to be drawn from tonight are:
- every fucker in Delhi is out to get me ;-)
- be rude to people who make conversation on the street, pretend you've got to get somewhere, just say 'sorry, not interested', fuck 'em
- certain streets are seriously tout prone, others would be OK if you knew where you were and where you were going

I can half see the appeal of signing up with a tour of some kind on a kind of protection racket basis; the guys who get their teeth into you will keep the others off. But I really don't want to spend 3-4 weeks on a fucking tour (I kept lying and saying I was here for two weeks, that I had no plans whatsoever, whatever came to mind), nor do I want to do a rushed 10 day tour of Agra and Jaipur and some other places and then have to find other stuff to do (because I'm not going to go back to Agra a second time on my own), when I'd rather do it a bit more leisurely.

I think my kind of plan for tomorrow is to get up moderately early, perhaps even have breakfast at the hotel since finding somewhere trustworthy to eat is obviously an issue. Hand the passport in a second time, perhaps offering the guy a tip at the same time, though that does feel rude. (They hardly seem to be guarding it super carefully, but as said earlier probably better than someone mugging me for it.)

Then go out for the day, maybe without camera (but to be fair, if the memory card is backed up before I go out, losing the camera wouldn't be the end of the world, it's showing its age very slightly and it might be nice to get something more slimline, though it would be annoying to have to buy one here), and see what I can manage to do by myself on the metro in terms of sightseeing. Invicta made out the Red Fort and the thing near it were very unpleasantly pressured, so perhaps I would avoid those and save them for a tour or at least when I've found my feet and my conscience is properly callused and I can be rude to polite strangers in the street with no qualms. I might essay to charter a taxi for the day myself if it works out somehow that I find myself in a cab, but basically try some independent tourism and see how it goes. I am hopeful that if I know where I'm going and what I'm doing I can fend off touts, and I also hope/suspect (DB Gupta is fine, for example, despite being super busy) there are only a few hellholes like the one I got caught on earlier.

I will keep an eye out for dining options during the day and have lunch as and when I see something OK. I will take stock back at the hotel tomorrow early evening and then I can decide if I need to eg ask the hotel about chartering a taxi to do the sights or if I need local tour services. I should then have a bit more idea how keen I am to fuck off out of Delhi and can look at booking hotels and train tickets to eg Agra. Raj said you need to book these things a few days in advance, obviously he had an ulterior motive though.

I am thinking I would check online hotels in Agra, if they are fine then go buy a train ticket before booking hotel (or book a hotel with free cancellation). I am assuming you can get the train over.

I am inclined to go to Agra before Jaipur because the Taj Mahal is probably the single 'must see' thing in India (and I do want to see it). So let's do that first, a) in case circumstances conspire against me and it takes me weeks to get there b) so that if the whole of India turns out to be a hellhole of touts and scams and I lose my rag and just jump on a flight out of the country, I'll have more chance of seeing the Taj first before that happens. I think b is unlikely, if I hadn't ended up walking down that tout-infested street I'd have been OK tonight.

(Amritsar is also a strong possibility if I pull off anything like the planned programme with time to spare, which in theory isn't hard. I am here for nearly four weeks. Barring a sudden "you know what, fuck India" escape on a big silver bird, of course.)

Oh, to be scrupulously honest, the room does have aircon. There's a unit hidden behind the curtains. I had a very brief fiddle with the complex manual controls and am completely unable to get it to do anything, but it exists. It really isn't necessary right now, the temperature in here is very pleasant, so given the risk of breaking something and my states of mind since returning from my foray earlier I haven't spent significant time or mental resources on trying to coax it into life.

Honestly, I expected to be horrified by poverty and/or truly terrifying 'Make Room! Make Room!'-esque crowd densities. I didn't expect to feel myself a plump victim for over-friendly touts.

I wonder if it might help to pretend to be Spanish. ("My wife, she speaks the English. I go meet her.") But probably showing any kind of willingness to converse is a bad idea, probably better to just keep repeating "I'm sorry, I'm not interested" or something over and over again. I think also saying (if not truthfully, at least plausibly) "I am going to X" where X is "the metro" or "my hotel" would also help put people off.

Some dogs barking in the street outside, as they were earlier while I was in Hellhole Road, but with so many people about and this being super-urban the dogs are not an enormous concern right now. That might change, of course. 2007 now, been churning this pap out more or less continuously.

2039 OK, let's say something nice. I hadn't shaved since leaving Bangkok, as I didn't want to fly with a razor and it didn't seem worth buying one in Singapore. As I should have done but didn't in Thailand, having several weeks probably without a flight, I splurged (INR 38.22) on a not-totally-disposable razor at the convenience store. As it happens, I got a Gillette Vector (maybe Plus, it's not clear). This is a twin blade. I just shaved with it, it works, I will buy some spare blades next time I go to that shop. But - and I have no idea if this is purely psychological, but it has always bugged me - it has a tiny little bit of plastic which you can push down to dislodge cut hairs trapped between the two blades. Genius! Of course, it would almost certainly be better if there was just one fucking blade in the first place and nowhere for hairs to get trapped, but still.

2111 Reading guide book. It mentions fake tourist information offices as a typical scam, I have to guess that's what the business with Raj was about. I doubt I'd have got beaten up but I doubt I'd have got my free taxi either, and it being after dark I'm glad I didn't go in and struggle out against verbal pressure, it was bad enough as it was.

Guide book makes out there is loads of stuff worth seeing in Delhi. Not so obviously the taxi driver (though he did offer to take me to a tourist information office, so may have been same scam) but the other people perhaps had more interest in selling me a tour and hence would play down the local attractions. To be fair Invicta did off me that tour.

2129 As I noticed in Bangkok towards end of time there, the maps in the Kindle Rough Guides are virtually useless. I am using the official Kindle app, and as you zoom in on the larger maps you realise the detail just isn't there and the text is truly, fundamentally, unalterably illegible.

From reading guide book and looking at map I do wonder if Hellhole Road is actually Main Bazar Road, not the road I inferred it to be earlier. I think tomorrow's plan has to be to head east along DB Gupta, *not* go into the railway station (I will go in to check it out, but not taking camera in given it sounds like pickpocket central), head south down to Connaught Place, have a look round there and maybe see if I can spot taxi ranks (guide book says you shouldn't flag cabs down on street unless you want to haggle under pressure) and then head further south down to India Gate, have a look round there and maybe check out the National Museum. I can peep down Main Bazar Road and see if it is a hellhole, even if not the one I went down earlier.

I don't think I will need to use the metro but depending on how things pan out I may just get on it anyway for the hell of it, or I may just wait and see if I can use it to go to Red Fort another day without having to tangle with cabs. The idea of chartering a cab for the day sounds nominally luxurious but even the guide book says it will cost about 1500 and that's ancient, plus in reality I just wouldn't trust the driver not to either disappear after taking a deposit or to charge massively more than agreed at the end of the day. Still, no need to worry about that now.

I think I need to check out maps a bit more in advance and at least have some idea where I'm going. Pulling phone out to fiddle with and stare at maps (especially when there's no compass to indicate direction) probably won't get me mugged but leaves me super vulnerable to 'helpful' touts. I guess if I do get lost I need to just keep on and dive into a cafe (if I can find one) for a cup of tea or something while I get my bearings (or I can maybe ask staff inside, I assume they aren't touts in disguise).

2200 Called Lloyds via Skype, my PIN had been blocked, they are unblocking it. I will have to be careful when I next try the card and give the two most probable PINs a try without getting confused.

2300 Just not had a shower. There's no hot water. I tell a lie, if you turn on one of the shower taps, part of the shower feels lukewarm while some of the outer jets are icy cold. I haven't called down to reception to ask them to stoke up the boilers. Nor did I have a cold shower. I held a towel under the spray and washed myself down with the towel.

Not very impressed. OK I should try not to let my earlier problems with cunts on the street bias me against the hotel, but is providing some hot water too much to ask? My passport also stares up at me plaintively from its resting place in my shoes (since if I put it in my pocket I may take it out without realising), reminding me that this is a hotel whose idea of 'looking after my passport' is to have someone bring it up to my room a few hours later.

2307 I must admit the idea of just booking a flight out of here is quite tempting. What do I have to look forward too tomorrow? Fending off hordes of touts while I get my wallet, camera and phone stolen, and either having my passport stolen or lost for me by the hotel.

0034 Going to bed. Last entry probably bit of overreaction but meh. Fingers crossed I can drag myself out of bed tomorrow instead of deciding it's all too fucking difficult.