The ghosts

Delhi

After our 18-hour train trip back to Delhi, we checked in at the ‘airport hotel’ to spend the night. It wasn’t really an ‘airport hotel’ – it was simply named ‘airport hotel’ and was in reasonable proximity to the airport. It was a dump, but sufficient for our purposes and handy for our any morning flight.

The view from the train coming into Delhi

Late at night, Swags and I went for a walk. First, Delhi airport and the surrounding area was covered in thick, cold fog. Huge construction sites surrounded the airport, so we walked along a very narrow street with construction board on one side on shops on the other side. We crossed the road and walked down an alley. As always, it was filled with people.

I’ve written in this blog about being a ‘celebrity’ and having everybody look at you. I’ve also touched on being an outsider, and how even though I am in the country, I felt like a complete stranger.

Walking down an alley, the strangest sensation came over me. Though there was the usual bustle of activity, people, and food smells, I felt like a ghost. I may as well not have been there. Not a single soul looked at me. People walked past as if I didn’t exist. I don’t know why, but it felt really weird.

And what I though too, was the irony of it. As a tourist, you always want ‘out’ of the tourist zone, to immerse yourself in the culture of a country. In other words, you urge to belong. Then, when you finally get it, when you’re out with all the Indians and no other westerners’, you feel like a ghost.

I don't know if you can ever have it all in life, just as long as your happy with something.