The eastern end of Paharganj is flanked by the New Delhi train station. To get there, I pass under a spider web of electricity lines and cables, as well as past the usual suspects: the man who tries to sell me a toy helicopter every day, the man with the embroidery depicting a house and the man with the badminton racquets. I dodge the red splats of paan and worse, and try not to think of my own sooty congested lungs. Maybe if I live long enough they will turn into...

Today’s sortie sees me cruising through Connaught Place yet again. Much to my amusement an enterprising lad tries to sell me a big fat Collins English dictionary. I mime lugging the book around and I think he gets that he has the wrong niche market somehow.

Beyond CP I head south to an area full of embassies. Like most cities in the world, they are usually in one of the nicest parts of town and Delhi is no exception to this rule. The streets are broad and lined with...

I have been in Delhi less than a week and I’m already nursing ‘chai lip’. My lower lip is raw from constantly sipping the scalding brew, so I’m having to slow down my morning imbibition (or find someone who does takeaway!).

Today’s journey treads a now familiar path to Connaught Place in the heart of Delhi. The grassy area at the centre of the three concentric circles is another place Delhiites like to catch up on some zeds and the colonnaded shopping area of the inner...

You cannot walk anywhere in this town without someone falling into step with you and firing the request twenty questions at you. Almost always it leads to ‘You come to government emporium. Is verrry good shopping!’ or, if you’re in Paharganj, ‘Why stay in Delhi – nothing to see? You take car to Rajasthan. I get you driver!’

They all profess to want to help you, but when you’re walking along with a destination in mind, shaking one off after another really slows you...

Mornings are a good time to be out and about in Paharganj. The streets have been sprinkled with water and there are only the beginnings of traffic and more space to walk freely. The power is routinely cut off for half an hour or so at 8.30am and the generator fumes fill the air blending with the usual tinge of incense. People trudge around swathed in shawls and peeping out of blankets wrapped tight. Backpackers fully loaded up move on to the next place. Small crowds...

The air is full of smoke and the streets are full of people and every kind of litter and dirt. Phaharganj bazaar is described by my guidebook as being a bit of a ghetto. I guess that’s fair, but as with other ghetto-like places it is full of colourful people and activities. I warily start to expand my locus of activity and visit a chai wallah. I won’t need to worry about the dearth of cakes and chocolate in my diet here, as you almost need to ask them to put some chai...

Without so much as a how’s-your-father Delhi was up our noses before we had finished taxi-ing on the runway. The acrid smell of wood smoke pervaded the air and the doors had not yet opened.

At the top of the dismounting steps I squinted into the fuggy air to see bleary lights glinting through the winter fog and smoke as if I had worn my contact lenses all night through a drunken haze. Shadowy figures did their work shifting vehicles and baggage.

Before leaving, many...