Everyone here likes to boast that Khan Market has the highest rent in Asia.
I looked it up. It doesn’t. It does have the highest rent in India, though. (Maybe Asia if you don’t count Japan, S. Korea, or Hong Kong?)
Khan Market entrance
My first reaction when I arrived was a kind of unimpressed, “This is it?” Granted, I entered from the back, which is even less impressive. Both Shipra Mall and GIP are way shinier. I did go shopping, though. I bought some shoes, a smaller Eicher map since the 300-page one is a bear to lug around (incidentally the book shop was selling the SAME Delhi-Agra-Jaipur Golden Triangle book!), and more Indian-style clothes in preparation for the summer heat. For lunch, I had a Pad Thai that was so spicy, my lips were burning for an hour afterward.
I was surprised by two things in Khan Market: one, how many foreigners – and foreigners in Indian dress! – there were (which apparently I should have expected) and two, how little the salespeople were selling to me. I mean they were perfectly polite, just not immediately saying “Hello ma’am, how can I help you ma’am.”
Lodi Garden is conveniently in walking distance from the Market (and the street had a sidewalk even, bonus.)
Sheesh, that’s a lotta tombs
(Gumbad means Dome, but even those are tombs as well)
I loved Lodi Garden. It was beautiful, relaxing, full of colorful flowers and curving paths; you could almost not hear the traffic anymore. Lots of couples and families were out enjoying the gorgeous sunny-and-70s weather. I laid on the grass for a while (well, on my sweater) and enjoyed the blue sky and pleasant atmosphere. Just lovely.
Tomb, tomb, tomb…
See what’s become of me…
I had wondered why the guy I asked to take my photo was taking so long lining it up… he wanted me to have a head sprout. It was a very cool tree, though, I even took a photo of it later. Once, I thought I caught a glimpse of a pure green bird among the constant pigeons. I thought I had imagined it until I came upon this sign:
One from the “Don’t Read This Sign Too Fast” Department
The other from the “Arbor Vigilantes” Department
At the other side of the Garden, I found I was near the India Habitat Centre, which a co-worker told me about. I wandered in. The building complex was quite pleasant and had the cleanest-looking food court as well as the cleanest-looking restrooms I’ve yet seen. I almost tipped the lady restroom attendant, seriously. After I sipped a sweet lassi, I checked out an art exhibit and passed this restaurant:
When in Delhi, eat nostalgic American food
(Ironically, I do end up having a nostalgic American dining experience today… but not here)
The Eicher map I purchased led me to my next destination. And my next destination gave me an idea of what kids dragged to Delhi by their parents must complain about.
“Come on, not another tomb!”
Some cities have cathedrals. Some have mosques. Some have natural wonders and wildlife refuges. Delhi has tombs.
Okay, sure, it has lots of temples, markets, and even a Fort or two, but without even trying, I saw five tombs in less than five hours.
On my way to the tomb on the map, an auto driver pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted a ride. I said, “I’m just going right there,” pointing to the tomb, about a block and a half away. He was very friendly (and spoke good English) and finally convinced me to take the short ride for “four rupees, for good luck, it’s my first ride of the day”. I’ll learn someday. So I got in and he pulled aside pretty quickly and started chatting, asking where I was from and telling me about how it was his 40th birthday today. He showed me his whiskey stash in a little front compartment of the auto, even though Sikh’s apparently are not supposed to drink alcohol. I asked him if he wore a lighter-colored turban in summer since he said his black one was getting a little hot as the weather warmed up. He said he did and showed me a picture of him in a brown turban as well as photos of his wife and son. It was a nice enough conversation but eventually he got to the part where he wanted to take me to a tourist shop. “You spend twenty minutes looking around, you don’t have to buy anything, and they’ll give me a liter of gasoline.” At least he was honest but twenty minutes, are you kidding me? I got bored of the conversation very quickly after that. Eventually, he just drove me to the end of the block, not unfriendly or anything. I gave him 10 rupees, wished him a happy birthday and finally went to the tomb and paid my $2 foreigner entrance fee.
The nice thing about tombs here is that they are all symmetrical. So, if you don’t like the light here:
You can just walk around to the other side:
And apparently, they all sort of look like the Taj. This tomb is on one of the HoHo (Hop-on Hop-off) tour bus routes. However, I only saw a very few tourists here. Apparently, this is more of a place appreciated for its secluded, romantic nature than for its history…
Safdarjang Tomb Smoochers
“I know a quiet place, honey.”
Riding the metro on my way back, I got a text from Deadpan, who invited me to dinner at, where else, Khan Market! So the four of us (including his wife and adorable son) returned in the evening (the Market still quite lively at 9pm) and ate at a place I completely overlooked during my daytime stroll even though I had been looking for a restaurant at the time. It’s called The Big Chill and it is Italian. Good Italian. Whoa. And, weirder, has a 1950’s American cinema theme. Old (and a few new) movie posters completely filled the walls. James Bond. Audrey Hepburn. Cary Grant. The music matched the era. At one point, they started playing “Surfin’ USA” and as I was bopping along, I asked Deadpan if he knew the song. He listened, then said he had not. Obviously, I should not have been surprised, but I was for some reason. Wondering if this restaurant might only be nostalgic for ME…
Lest I give the impression that Delhi is not under construction all the time… It is.
Safdarjang Tomb Renovations and Lodi Garden Gazebo Building
(I especially like how they hired women to tile the roof.)
Number of chocolates given away: all of them. Three for the trio of various-aged kids outside Khan market. Two to the mother and toddler at the intersection near India Habitat Centre. Two for an impressively acrobatic girl nearby who was doing nonstop front-walkovers down the sidewalk. Two for the adorable brother with his sister on his shoulders who peeked in my auto. And two for the Sikh driver who asked for some for his kids. (“That’s all?” he asked after I gave him my last two.) I am the Chocolate Distributor of Delhi.
Lessons learned from my first bicycle rickshaw trip:
Drivers (pedalers?) have even less English than auto drivers and even less of an idea of locations outside the immediate vicinity.
I did see more detail of local neighborhoods which was cool, but the cruising speed was, of course, very slow.