For nearly a decade I’ve been torn about travelling to India. On the one hand, it’s seemed so exotic and colourful. On the other, I’ve wondered if I’d be able to handle the poverty, dirt and, inevitably, Delhi belly. It’s not exactly the place you’d go to for a relaxing holiday, I thought.
But a country has never daunted me before, so I put on my big girl pants and booked my ticket to Delhi. It’s a cliché, but I have fallen in love with India. The sights, sounds, smells, tastes are all so overwhelming – but so wonderful. Yes, there is terrible poverty. Yes, there is garbage along the streets. But there are also exquisite buildings, quirky signs, incredible food, wonderfully diverse cultures, and so much more. The people I met were without fail an appealing balance of charming respect and playful humour. And the food… it’s heaven for vegetarians! (I even managed to avoid bad a stomach upset.)
So India, I am sorry I judged you before I’d even met you. I will be back, often.
Preparing offerings at the Jama Masjid mosque at Fatehpur Sikri, outside Agra. (January 2012)
