Delhi and Hotel Ajanta

Here I am in Delhi, India.

You never think a hotel will screw up YOUR booking, right? Well, they screwed up mine.

Although Hotel Ajanta offered an airport pick-up service, I'd read about how unreliable it can be so fought through the crowds to take a taxi instead. The driver got lost so we stopped at Tourist Information to call the hotel.

Hotel Ajanta had decided to squeeze me out to accommodate a group that wanted to extend their stay. That left me stranded, at MIDNIGHT, pointlessly arguing with some meathead on the phone. Can you believe he actually said, "it's your problem, sir"? I corrected him: after a week I'll have forgotten all about his hotel but the bad reviews I'll write on TripAdvisor.com and HostelBookers.com will remain. It's HIS problem. Idiot!

He offered the name of a sister hotel who assumed I'd paid for Ajanta. I hadn't. I'd only paid a 10% booking fee for my 4-night stay so, er, I think they undercharged me by 60% for the one night. I was so pissed off by everything, I wasn't going to correct them.

I cried on my bed for a while.

I didn't care too much about the filthy bed, filthy towels, cockroaches, lack of hot water, screwed-up booking and the fact I just didn't have a clue what I was doing anymore.

No.

I was thinking more about the thousands of people I'd seen on the street outside. It's true that we don't know what poverty is in the UK. We only imagine. And even then, we only make the effort to imagine when we're reminded to, like now.

It's not just human beings out there. Dogs and cows also roam aimlessly, seemingly unperturbed but probably extremely frightened by the busy traffic. Monkeys are chained up and made to perform.

The easiest thing for me to do as a westerner is to turn a blind eye to all of this. Ignorance is bliss. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. I want to leave.

When all is said and done, so what if my shower was cold? I mean, really. SO WHAT?