We spent our last day in Delhi ‘touristing’. After all, we came to visit not just travel through, so we took in the main sightseeing points of Delhi: the Red Fort and the old town. The Fort was massive and … well… red. At least in parts, it was. It was good to see renovations being done on some of the old, crumbling buildings but it felt out-of-place to see those recently renovated being covered in bright white plaster. Some of the original structures are left to display the red sandstone that gives the Fort its name, while others are white with intricate paintings. It was also good to see that about 99% of the visitors were Indians. As foreign tourists, we got our tickets from a separate booth charging the higher, tourist price. This differentiation in charges is, apparently, present everywhere in India but given the very small number of foreign tourists we saw, we didn’t exactly save the economy.

The Red Fort
Also the Red Fort. But less red.

After walking our feet numb across the vast grounds of the fort, we headed across the road to Old Delhi. Crossing a main road in Delhi is an adventure in itself, but this one was well worth it. Old Delhi is an enchanted place. A crowded, loud, and colourful mix of grand palaces on the main street and dirty back alleys filled with fascinating, tiny shops. If it were not for the web of power cables hanging over every narrow lane, you’d think you went back a thousand years or two in time. That web of cables triggered a worrying thought about the 1212 great London fire in me, but my order-favouring mind is likely the only one worrying about the risks of monkeys dangling from power lines entangled in an undiscernible mass.

The main street of Old Delhi.
Dalma in one of the warren of alleys and shops.

The lanes are filled with long lines of shops grouped around themes. The maze of electrics and camera market are so narrow that in places even one person can barely squeeze through. The colourful streets of fabric and saree market were filled with women shopping for the wedding season. The book market is more fascinating that Harry Potter’s Diagon Alley. By the end of a long day, we found the spice market with its dried fruits, nuts, and almost suffocating, dense fragrance.

The world’s largest spice market is located on a crumbling rooftop that runs around an unpretentious inner courtyard and is accessible through a dark, steep stairway. It is filled with sneezing merchants resting over large, chili-filled bags, or ducking under drying clothes with big, heavy bags filled with the most exotic, organic spices the entire world imports from here. To us, it was an out-of-this-world experience. To the locals, it is the real world. Not sanitised, not ‘disneyfied,’ not there for our entertainment.

The spice market
Spices for sale.

We felt privileged to be there, bought some dates to replenish our energies, and went back to prepare for next day’s ride out of the world’s worst traffic.

Walking back to the hotel.