Delhi surprises me
I arrived in Delhi on a "Deluxe A/C Volvo" bus via the road from Jaipur. It is marked as a highway on the map. What this meant in actuality is a very wide concrete highway with a divider down the middle. There are probably about three lanes on a side. The center two lanes are used for buses and trucks. The outside lane has a variety of things, such as rickshaws, animal-drawn carts, bicycles, and pedestrians. It is dark with some rain. My expectation of a limited-access expressway is gone now; as usual, the roads are practical and allow every means of transportation. They are dangerous, but they are democratic. By the center guardrail dividing the two directions of swiftly-moving traffic children are walking. Horns are blaring; traffic moves slowly, probably averaging 40 miles per hour. There is a lot of traffic, even at this late hour at 9:30 at night; the bus is in place in a line of "Goods Carrier" trucks, automobiles, and other buses.
Presumably we are getting closer to the city center. We come across some tall office buildings, 10 stories high or more. For all the billion people in India, so far I have rarely seen tall buildings. Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan, has 3 million people but only a handful of high-rise buildings, at least in the center of the city. People and businesses are packed into mostly low-rise buildings. Outside of Delhi I am passing through Gurgaon, an edge city built on the current economic boom. Tall buildings rise up beside me for IBM, Nestle, Tata Consultant Services, and Erickson.
Traffic is jammed partly because of new construction. An expressway flyover is being built down the center of this road and traffic is diverted around it. The less-democratic expressways are a result of pressure from the automobile contingent driving to these office buildings every day. I wonder whether they will reduce traffic congestion or increase it.
Delhi is very spread out on the plain. I sense we are somewhere near the airport, driving through open fields marked for development. Closer to the city center - we must be closer! - the bus is now driving down city streets. Big, wide, tree-lined avenues, bordered by walled compounds of expensive-looking mansions: we must be somewhere near the embassy district.
The bus turns onto a classic British circle, and suddenly the India Gate is there before me. It is lit up a golden color by floodlights and it is huge. We circle around it and arrive at Bikaner House, the bus station for arrivals in Delhi from the state of Rajasthan. I find the auto-rickshaw driver I called ahead of time - "Jack" - and he takes me to my hotel at Connaught Place, zipping down more circles and perfectly straight avenues. Delhi is not what I expected. I had heard about crowds and being attacked by rickshaw drivers and touts. Those may be around here somewhere, but I haven't seen them yet. Once again I have arrived at a place through the back door.
