The Scam

So we’d been out of the hotel just minutes on our first day in Delhi. Our course was set for Connaught Place where we would find the Indian Government Tourist Office. Connaught Place is a reputed hub in Delhi famed mainly for its shopping I believe. But I don’t know for sure, I’ve still never been there.

We made our way along the dusty street, I deftly declined a few approaches like a seasoned traveler while Sue acclimatised to our new surrounds. I noticed a young fellow, perhaps 15-18 years old trailing at a few yards. To outfox him, I told Sue to stop while I fished through my bag meaningfully to allow him to pass. If only he had.

He knew where the government tourist office was. In fact, his friend worked there, and he was on his way there! What a stroke of luck. Of course our *strong* suspicions never left us, but straight up he was such a nice chap that it was hard to dismiss him. I looked like Ricky Ponting, except for my beard (which he was impressed by) and that I was big and strong like Matt Hayden. I was buying what this guy was selling.

So we met his friend at the ‘government’ office, partook of a few cups of ‘Indian hospitality’ (chai), and before you knew it our stay in India was accounted for. Parting with too much money we had signed up to a package with our own private driver who would take us on a six day tour of all of the highlights of Rajastan – accommodation and elephant ride included. Our driver would speak very good English and guide us through all of the monuments. The car would be just like our own at home and the driver very safe and professional – of course seatbelts! It would be like driving ourselves and we could tell the driver ‘stop here, take us to there, anywhere you want’.

All these myths where quickly dispelled as we set about our trip.

Our driver, Vikas, would ask, “You how program today?”

“We’ll we would like to go first to… then we will… and after that spend a while in the market… and then back to the Hotel.”

Pause.

“No. First go to temple. One hour. Two hour. As you like. After go to fort. You walk something. You look something. As you like. Then how my friend as restaurant. You eat something something, drink something. You like. After you go to… etc etc… As you like. I am your servant.”

Negotiations bounced off the language barrier.

By day three Sue and I were holed up in the corner of world famous Indian monuments plotting our escape. This arrangement seemed to have killed our freedom entirely and we wanted out. We came up up with some pretty creative schemes, but in each case we did not know how to discretely dispose of the soil from our tunneling. Logistics!

Over time and through trials we really came to warm to our driver. And learn to make the most of our situation in the same way that an inmate might make peace with his cell. All in all, we saw more of India and had more crazy experiences than we could otherwise have hoped for, including my thirty-first birthday which is a tale of misadventure.

Welcome to Delhi.

Get Smart, Kung Fu Panda, and The Forbidden Kingdom were the movies that played on the flight to Delhi which arrived at 2am on Sunday the 12th October. Coming out of the airport we immediately noted the general grime, the heat and bustle (even at 2am), and that our driver was stoned. We meandered to the hotel in a minivan/lunchbox that I estimate still sported at least 40% of its original function. We arrived at the hotel at about 4am.

I’d read many horror stories of the shady practice and scams that tourists are regularly subjected to in Indian hotels and was prepared for anything. But the check in was painless and the room Spartan but not entirely disgusting. I considered this a win.

Our next win came when, having freshly withdrawn our currency, the smallest denomination that I had with which to tip the hotel porter was 100 rupees. Pained, I did. His face lit with something like appreciation and he immediately offered, “Wait, wait. Air conditioning not working. Wait.” He scurried off to another room on the same floor then reemerged to flick switches on our wall unit, “See, now works!” Thank you… I think. I also got some ‘bonus’ toilet paper out of that tip for ‘no money, no money’.

Little did I know that this would be our last win in India for some days.

We were staying in an area of Delhi called Parharganj. I went for what I intended to be a stroll when I got up at around 7am. What I was faced with was somewhat overwhelming, and I hadn’t walked more than 30 meters when I revised my ‘stroll’ to a ‘mission’. I was to get to the end of the street (300 meters), purchase water, and get back to the hotel, stat. Stray dogs, ‘sacred’ cows, unidentifiable fluids in ditches and in the dirt gutters, curiously unpleasant odours, rubble laden streets and a film of dirt covered all. The street was already active, but dominated by folk who did not seem so active. It was quite apparent that every one of them was Indian, and I was not. So I had their full attention. The irony was that for once in my life I truly *was* the centre of attention… and I didn’t like it.

I tried to look casual and comfortable about it all, I don’t know how I went at that, but I did complete the mission, and in pretty good time too.

When Sue got up I worded her up. We had read up on what to expect in India; of the hotels, the streets, the squalor, the scammers and touts. But clearly we were still not fully prepared. We left the hotel and within 5 minutes had fallen for a scam; one that would occupy the rest of our stay in India. Who knew that con artists would be such nice guys??