New Delhi – smokey, noisy, crowded, chaotic, highly mannered. That’s what I discovered on the way from the airport to this lovely hotel where I write.

A transfer company did indeed meet me at the airport – a very polite man smartly dressed in sport coat and slacks who gave me a necklace of fresh marigolds and chrysanthemums and insisted on taking my bags. We had a short wait for the driver to arrive with the car while dozens of other cars vied for space to pick up passengers. One van blocked the third of four lanes for a long time loading and securing at least seven suitcases on the roof, the inside of the van being chock-a-block with people.

We eventually found my hotel after two wrong turns and a couple of telephone calls. We had to pass through security which consisted of the guard looking into our van and running some sort of sensor – bomb? – around my suitcase. My baggage and I also had to pass through electronic screening before entering the hotel, and then I was pulled aside discreetly into a small room where a very respectful woman ran a wand over me. I must say I’m feeling pretty safe right now.

The traffic was mad. People everywhere, cars everywhere, there was even a cow, apparently untethered, standing calmly by the side of the road taking in the show, Everyone beeps their horns all the time. Beep you’re getting too close, beep I’m going to overtake you either on the road or the shoulder (doesn’t seem to matter), beep I want to turn either right or left (turn signals appear not to be de rigeur here), beep pedestrian get out of the way. There is some chaotic order to it all as people do seem to get around. I did notice, though, that there are a lot of dented cars on the road.

I must turn in. It’s midnight Delhi time, 10:30 am Vancouver time, and I have no idea about my own internal clock time.

Oh – the woman across from me in Seattle is not in my tour group.