Sunday 6th November

Part 1 written as I fly south west towards Delhi,

Wow finally saw some mountains. Just before the seat belt sign went off up popped the snowy white peaks from behind the mist.  It's just been un-seasonal weather, loads of other people I have spoken to have been disappointed also.

The day started with a melee at breakfast. Some Indian ladies decided to eat their breakfast outside, that was until the crows came. Once their backs  were  turned the birds swooped. 

Met by the travel rep from Yeti Travel who gave me a feedback form to complete. Weather the only down side.

And so to the Monkey Temple and Durbar Square. I should have spent more time in the square rather than the Monkey Temple. Durbar Square is awesome. 43 Temples almost within spitting distance of each other. You need a week of reading and days of sightseeing to give it justice. And that is only one part of old Kathmandu.  Off to the airport just before 12 noon.  My guide did an excellent job pushing into the front of the entrance queue into the airport. The first of many. No queue at my JetLite check-in desk. And no query when my hold baggage weighed in at 23.8 kg. I managed to get my anorak in it which made it much heavier. Good job I ditched some stuff.
Then came baggage security,then immigration, then hand baggage security, each time your boarding card is stamped. Then on to the the most crowded departure hall (barn) you ever want to go in. All races and creeds travelling to all points some which I have never heard of. No direct fights to Europe though. I positioned myself as you do by one of the information screens. And relaxed. A little movement at the front prompted me to take a wander. There an official was shouting out the name of the Jetlite. I joined about 30 people to board the bus. And surprise surprise when I board the plane after yet another security check the plane is almost full.  You just cannot take anything for granted here.
We are about an hour late so it will dusk when we land in Dehli.

This blog is being typed into Notes on my iPhone using a bluetooth keyboard bought for Lesley's iPad. (thanks for letting me borrow it Lesley).Then when I get wireless connection it is uploaded with a few key presses. 

To be continued.

Landed at 17:33 in Delhi. Through immigration in a flash. They wanted to know the exact address I was going to in Dehli. Nina Kochhar's, Old Delhi, was not sufficient. He was happy with Delhli Gymkhana Club where I was going for dinner. My case was one of the first on the baggage carousel. So off to find the taxi driver. Unusually there are two places to meet incoming passengers, one inside the other outside the terminal, so I must have walked past the driver to start with.  Another trudge to the car park then back into the Delhi traffic. I was the first to arrive at the Gymkhana Club, even though I knew Kapil was about to arrive. My bags had to be taken into the club only to be wheeled back out 2 minutes later, to be transferred to Nina's car later for the journey to her Old Delhi B & B.
The Gymkhana Club is a grand style colonial club, as I imagine they were. An extremely large ballroom with all the other facilities around the perimeter. By now all 4 of us, Nina, Vid (who had been in Calcutta with Andrew),Kapil and I had assembled together. Andrew, who was in Greater Noida and not able to join us,rang Kapil who then passed the phone to me for a chat. Nice touch that Andrew, thank you.
 Into the bar about 7 pm for a drink of Kingfisher. Most Indians eat at 10 pm, as this fits in with the normal start of business hours of 10 am the next day.  The formal meals always start with loads of booze, nibbles and snacks and snacks. A very risky combination if you forget that the main course is still a long way off. The unfinished snacks followed us in to the very grand restaurant.  As I am writing this the next day, I think I had soup for starters, but the main course of dahl and rogan josh was amazing. Nina corrected me when I called the sauce, sauce, it's curry she said.   
Nina is a very intelligent person, which on reflection all Anne and Andrew's friends are. She was very keen to hear about Vid's trip, and my family. She told us that it is the centenary of Queen Victoria's coronation in India. She also told us of the time she had been visiting Kathmandu and broke her leg during a scuffle to keep her handbag from being stolen. She said the treatment in the hospital there was remarkable, which she put down to the practice they have had sorting out the injured mountaineers. You do not want to stop in the hospital too long as you were, she said, guaranteed to get an infection. So her son travelled up from India to take her home. Kapil coerced me into my non-fill-chiltered whisky story and Nina understood the nuances in the tale.
So after an excellent meal, a transfer of bags to Nina's car and through at first clear roads. As we approached the Red Fort in Old Delhi we had to go through the goat market. As the next day Monday is the festival of Eid, where families eat a sacrificed goat with their families and neighbours, some last minute shoppers were there buying their goats. I saw one motor ricksaw with two people and two live goats in. 
The Delhi traffic I have decided is perfect following an evening out. One driver's collision avoidance sense takes account of any straying of another driver' s attention. There is also not the violent acceleration and braking which we get in the UK traffic, just a gentle movement at junctions weaving in and out with an odd toot of the horn to let others know you are there.
Nina's apartment is on the top floor,    
so she wakes up her house boy to carry my big case up the 30 or 40 steps. And so to bed. Knackered.