This is all from the day-to-day journal. Helen takes in history and environs in Delhi before heading back to the boat. And we shall join her.
Thru the Kashmir Gate to the 1st city of Delhi, founded at end of 12th cent. by the slave dynasty — the Turk, Mohammad Ghori established Mohammedan Rule, having no son, he raised a slave to be his heir. Kutb-Din, the slave, built the Kutb Miner, used by Muezzin to call to prayer, 238 ft. tall. The iron pillar, standing for 1600 years.
Humayun, son of Babar 1st Moghul Emperor ruled briefly, his tomb is red sandstone, used as model for the Taj.
Side note: there will be quizzes!
The Chatta Chowk, arcades of shops, one displaying the richest wares of the East, now ivory merchants, jewelry, carved wood.
Diwan-l-Am, Durbar Hall, where Emperor dispensed justice, even the humblest might present his petition.
The inlay in marble, the canopy incrusted with gems and held by gold poles.
The Hall of Special Audience where the peacock thrones stood, the inscription, "If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this".
The Turkish baths, the fountain of 9 streams for the pregnant woman.
Side note: That is an excellent quote, no? “If there is paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this…”
Drove thru New Delhi — imposing buildings, beautifully laid out, but a come down after the splendors of Old Delhi.
To the Chandi Chowk — to the Ivory Palace — magnificent carving, lovely textiles and brass.
Stopped at the Jumma Masjid — too weary of seeing white marble inlaid in red sandstone.
Had tea at the hotel, dashed to the station to find the train 1/2 hr. late on account of the wreck yesterday of the Punjab Mail. Found we had 1 lower, 2 uppers, 1 middle aged wife of a British Major, very sporty, a mousy governess-y looking person. Resigned to 36 hrs. of grit and dirt, we're off for Calcutta fuel on the hotel bill: 6 As.
Side note: Weary of white marble…
“If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this” – The Hall of Special Audience
Mon. Jan 17: Our compartment companion got off at 6:00 a.m. at Allerabad.
We three had tea and oranges, went back to bed.
Slept occasionally until two p.m. when enormous quantities of luggage arrived — 4 huge suitcases, 4 smaller ones, a wicker box, vegetable basket, birdcage, bedding roll, tennis rackets, coats, toupees, dog, widow with a sweet 14 yr. old child.
She was a fright, but she and Dreyer struck up an acquaintance and babbled for hours.
Side note: Dreyer is Helen’s roommate from the boat (at least when Helen is not in her deck hammock). Like the new train passenger, Dreyer is also a widow.
And again people traveling with toupees! I’ve looked this up on Chat GTP, and if it’s telling the truth, toupees or wiglets were quite popular before the 1930s, but we’re still being used for specific hair styles (I imagine these could be handy whilst traveling) or to add extra oomph or to cover problem spots.
The train was 2 hours late, and the last several hours were interminable.
Dirty, wearying, and at every stop the inevitable bangles, dolls, brass, guavas and the everlasting "No-Go Away".
At long last we pulled in to Howrah Station. The Grand Hotel man got us a feeble taxi to the hotel.
Across the world's busiest bridge and certainly every type of conveyance is on it — autos, ox carts, horse drawn tongas, rickshaws, and many on foot with bedding and baggage piled high on their heads.
A seething mass of humanity and a hollow din of rubber bulb horns — honk, honk.
At 10:00 p.m. dinner in the grill with horrible bleating music.
To crown the day: a dirty tub taking an hour to empty.
Trip Advisor: Two Stars.