Bargaining for a Rickshaw
Our last night in Delhi before taking the train to a cooler Shimla in the mountains for a few days, we strike out in the worst part of the day for traffic to have dinner in Old Delhi. Bob is bargaining on the price-which is always about double or triple for the big westerners-when a policeman comes down the street whacking all the drivers across their backs with a big stick to get them to move on. I hate what I see but it works to our advantage-the driver is anxious to move on and takes Bob’s last offer.
The streets are full of people, animals and various mechanical transporters and the auto-rickshaw comes to a stop in traffic for half an hour. It has cooled off a few degrees and there is a slight breeze. No problem! We surprise ourselves by just watching the show go on around us despite being enveloped in exhaust fumes.
The restaurant was interesting-several venues surrounded a central open air “kitchen” where one area was devoted to tandoori, in another small area three men were sitting on a raised floor making chapatis and puris and baking them in an oven in a hole in the floor and another area displayed half a dozen huge round metal jars sitting at an angle with small openings into which the waiter dipped out servings of stewed vegetables, chicken, and mutton. The mutton stew was superb.
Tags: Dual Pricing, Food, India, New Delhi, Transportation
Zoe