Dispatches by Barlon from India.

Actually it was an Indian kid on the gangway to get on to the plane in Toronto that turned around and spat at us. Welcome to India.

No problems with the plane. Then … Fahk.

We get through customs buttery smooth but no welcoming man. After an excrutiatingly long time still no man. So our cradle to grave India tour starts with us on our own in the Delhi airport negotiating with a taxi to get us to the hotel where we hoped we had a room booked and paid for (think worst nightmare) Could not figure out how to make the phone work (more Fahk) until *611 and a ten minutes on hold to the Telus tech guy. He gives me a clue “try holding down the 0 until you see a plus sign then dial the area code plus blah, blah blah.

The taxi driver had to stop at an all night food stand to find the The Imperial Hotel so the tip thing didn’t really happen for him.

Found our man (he caught up with us at the hotel, much apologies) room is lovely. Half a sleeping pill then up to tour Delhi