Nothing prepares you for the assault on the senses that is Delhi.
You think you know what to expect.
Noise, colour, smells.
Nothing prepares you for Delhi.
On the one hand, a global city.
Full of new high rise building, fancy technology, designer shopping malls.
On the other hand, entrenched traditional class system, rubbish and pollution on a jaw-dropping scale.
Slum ghettoes built of plastic bottles and corrugated iron.
Nicely juxtaposed with the air conditioned shopping shrines to Versace and Armani.
In amongst the chaos of the markets of Old Delhi is the haven of the Jama Masjid mosque.
What you don’t see in this picture of beauty and serenity is youngest child being chased by a frenzied mob of adoring fans who all wanted to take selfies stood next to the small girl with the strange red hair.
You also don’t see the fetching polyester neck to foot covering tablecloth all women are required to wear when visiting the site.
Can’t help thinking it would be more apt to provide blindfolds for the men.
But who am I to judge?
And as an added bonus all that polyester in 37 degree sunshine provides the convenience of a portable sauna for the fortunate ladies who get to wear it.
A hard day.
So many beautiful historic sites. And so much abject poverty and misery.
The tourist gaze awestruck.