October 1997 - The 'Shipton/Tilman' Route - Day 20 - October 30

I've not located any photos from today, so here we are again, at the start of the trip.

Thursday 30th October

The train slowly eased out of the platform, as we rooted around for mugs to assist consumption of the 'Double Dog' blended whisky obtained from 'The English Wine Shop' which failed to sell either wine or beer but did a good trade in strangely named spirits.

The train was quite full despite most people in India already having done their travelling for Diwali. But they were all asleep, so we tried to talk quietly, whilst getting black looks and suspicious stares from the conductor at our pint mugs from which we appeared to be drinking dregs.

Eventually we settled down ourselves for a disturbed, but not as much as expected, night in the airless two-tier cabin.

We were all awake again well before the 7am arrival in Delhi. Through a steamed up (cracked pane of double glazing) window on the lower bunk (upper bunks had no windows) I could see a lovely sunrise on a clear day. The piles of rubbish beside the track grew as we got closer to Delhi. A tide of flotsam much worse than that on the Ganges (where about 20 feet above the level of the river when we were there, there was a steady layer of flotsam brought down / deposited when the river is at its highest in the monsoon) lay next to the line, amongst which people were living. As we passed, many were performing morning ablutions. (Crapping right next to the track, in full public view.)

At Delhi station, as the train pulled up lots of porters jumped on, touting for business. A suited man announced to us that he was from A + K (Abercrombie and Kent), and he organised porters to take our 6 bags to the waiting luxury bus. At least, we thought we had 6 bags. Julia and I had always stuck to one each plus day sac. But Richard had produced and filled a second bag, and John had always had a second bag containing medical kit, etc. John also had a spare bag and had forgotten that he had used this to stow the fruits of his shopping trips, which included a large water carrier. This bag had been stuffed well under the seats of the sleeper and by the time John realised it had been lost, when we gained the sanctuary of Oberoi Maidens Hotel after half hour bus ride, it was too late to do anything but change some more money and try to replace the lost items in Delhi.

Hence, we deposited bags in rooms and got a taxi to a main shopping area, passing the impressive Red Fort en route. John set about his task with gusto and we all made further purchases, mainly from Nepalese stores - they were friendlier and more honest looking than the aggressive Punjabis, whose prices could be almost halved by haggling. And if you haggled too much for them you could just go on to a nearby shop and try again for a similar item.

There was a snake charmer cruelly beating his snake when it didn't perform exactly to his requirements, and dancing monkeys with red weals where they had been given similar treatment. Also disfigured and begging children were a constant nuisance - I was later told that many of these belong to organised gangs, who deliberately maim children to make monetary gain!

It was Diwali - Christmas Day - in India, so the shops had opened late and many not at all. However, most of us used up our remaining rupees and after waiting for John, who was rushing around replicating previous purchases, we tried to find a quick taxi. It must have been the slowest in Delhi - an old Russian car which nearly ground to a halt on the slightest of gradients.

However, by 11:45 we were back at the hotel, in time to wash and change into our travelling back to the UK clothes (the best we had), before being picked up by the A+K bus at 12:30.

Despite it being 'Christmas Day', the boss of Mercury Exploration (the rafting division of Mercury), Colonel Navendra Kumar, had invited us to a special lunch at the oldest 'Club' in Delhi - a relic from the days of the Raj - the Gymkhana Club.

We arrived at 1pm in total security and eventually found our way in. This was clearly unfamiliar territory even for the all-knowing A+K bus - the driver and his assistant had to ask for directions!

Ruchi Anand, A+K's 'Guest Relations and Quality Control' greeted us and led us past a massive ballroom to a generous bar area in one corner of which were Colonel Kumar and his entourage. John's status as the son of legendary Everest explorer Eric Shipton opened doors. We were introduced to some legendary Indian climbers - Navendra Kumar himself had been on the first Indian expedition to Everest in 1960 and had reached 8625 metres together with two others. We met Captain M S Kohli, who was also on that expedition. The latter, as Lieutenant Kohli, was also on the second Indian expedition in 1962, which reached a high point of 8720 metres. As Commander Kholi, this glutton for punishment led the third Indian expedition, on which Navendra Kumar was deputy leader. Nine of this 1965 party reach the summit, including HPS Ahluwalia, another of our hosts today. Unfortunately, this latter veteran is confined to a wheelchair, having been injured in a border incident by a bullet. All these people are 'army' - which seems to provide all Indian mountaineers.

The semi paralysed HPSA has built a hospital for 'Stoke Mandeville' type of injuries and is obviously a well-known celebrity hereabouts.

The Chief Executive of Mercury Travels Ltd, Deepak Bhandari and his lovely wife, were also present. They and others had left their family Christmases for a while to join this reception.

After an hour or so we transferred, now quite well lubricated with our first beer for quite some time, to a separate room beyond the Bridge Room, a massive card playing sanctuary. A lovely Chinese meal was served - enjoyed by all except Richard, who threw up on the lawn outside.

John was very much the centre of attention, but when asked for his 'card' - everyone of any status in India seems to have one - all he could produce was the 1997/98 bulb catalogue with his address on the front! (John sells bluebell and other bulbs.)

Lovely ice cream.

This most interesting interlude concluded around 3pm, when we were chauffeured back to the Hotel Oberoi, leaving John in a street market, still attempting to replace lost presents. The rest of us sat by the pool, swam, wrote postcards (a marathon exercise for me) etc.

Then there was a bizarre Diwali firework display. We were summoned to the pool soon after dark and seated to watch the chef and others lighting fireworks. Rockets everywhere, catherine wheels spinning out of control across the patio. Lots of bangs and smoke. Perhaps quite dangerous, if entertaining.

We then adjourned for a Hotel Restaurant snack before being taken to the airport for the long journey home.

Our coach to the airport collected other HK (Himalayan Kingdoms) travellers - they caught earlier planes and left us with several hours' wait for our flight. Unfortunately, we had packed away our cards and there were none for sale, so there was an element of boredom.

The flight home was largely in darkness, this time gaining 5½ hours and arriving just after dawn at a frosty Heathrow. Crap videos as usual, but good food, and the American news channel interviewed Calla's friend Sue's multi-millionaire son Chris Roberts about the interactive computer game involving prominent actors - the latest version of 'Wing Commander'.

I had a long wait for the bus to Manchester, spent mostly catching up with this diary as far as the Gymkhana Club reception, before a pleasant if slow journey back to Manchester on a most pleasant cool sunny Friday. There were about 10 stops! - I'd only noticed two on the way down.

It was Halloween, and everyone I phoned was out. The first ansaphone reply was from (I later learnt) a newly 'liberated' Sue, who provided good company for the Chorlton firework display and even better for a walk around Ullswater on 2 November - how pleasant to be with someone who works at my pace again! 

My diary, Volume 32, also has pages for the following:
Costs – around £2,100
Kit Kist
Flowers
Birds
Addresses, cards, sundry....

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