This time I took the train first class on the way back to Delhi from Varanasi. For a while I had the four-bed cabin to myself. Along the way a dignified elderly gentleman in the white Punjabi of a Brahman, India’s highest caste, joined me. He told me that he was an advocate, a lawyer. It seems to be a profession that is passed through the generations in this country. His father and grandfather were advocates, as are his two sons now. He took the opposite bottom bunk. These berths had real cushions not covered by blue vinyl but with reddish brown twill that matched the color of the interior walls. They were twice as wide as the ones in 2nd AC and were much more comfortable. There was even a porter who came around to make the bed with nice white sheets and a pillow. After some polite conversation with the gentleman, I slept the night through very well.

Once again in the busy, dirty city of Delhi, I took a taxi to the Old Tibetan Camp. The settlement was a real find. It’s not mentioned in the guidebook. The backpackers would love it if they knew about it. The rooms are twice as nice and half the price as in Pahar Ganj, the backpacker’s haven. I found a nice clean but small room for 200 rupees ($5) with a double bed with a real mattress and sheets, hot water, tv with remote control and even HBO. Incredible.

The taxi driver came early that night at 12:25 instead of 1 am. Steve’s flight was due to be in at 2:30 but was delayed and arrived at 2:57. We were back to the New Peace House by four. The taxi rides to the airport and back were the first times I had seen Delhi not crowded or noisy. Delhi sleeping seemed like a completely altered city. What a different welcoming to India Steve had than I had!