Stinking hot in Delhi

The long drive to Delhi from Corbett N.P was uneventful but filthy hot and dusty (except for the various toys for sale along the way!) Disappointingly the air horn had started to lose its voice and was becoming less and less effective.
Our destination was an apartment, home to Jodi - who is an engineer designing the new runway and terminal at I.G International airport in Delhi. After the tent and dodgy cheap hotels, sweating in the hot unforgiving land cruiser, her 5 toilets and 5 air conditioning units were heaven. There was even a chilled water dispenser and a fridge full of cold beer.

Over the next week and a bit, while we applied and waited for our Pakistani visas, and waited to hear about our Iranian ones we got loads of washing done, met Jodi's friends, attended the Dutch Queen's birthday celebrations (compulsory orange dress), and did a little bit of shopping.

Jodi and her great ex-pat friends took us out to various upmarket bars/restaurants where the food was brilliant and there were lots of nice drinks, which incidentally cost the equivalent of 2-3 nights accommodation for us normally. Not that we minded, it made a nice change. Our interview at the Pakistani embassy (after having to find a guy with a typewriter to fill the applications out!) went well and we got the visas in 3 days without any problems.

We were less successful at the poker night held at Jodi's, miserably failing to boost our funds. For a bit of 'touristy' action we visited the Red Fort, which was no way near as impressive as others we've seen. Connaught Place was interesting enough, in the centre of New Delhi. A circle of grass and parking areas with an underground market place. In the 40 plus degree temperatures we dared not venture down there. Six radial roads led out from the centre, and 3 ring roads joined them so that the map looked like a bulls-eye.
We ended up driving around Delhi quite a lot, getting jobs done. The vast differences between the wide, clean, leafy streets of the newer city and the dirty, broken and congested lanes of the older part stood out as much as anywhere else, perhaps they were even magnified.
We drove to markets in the different sectors looking for wiper blades, new engine oil and somewhere to change the old stuff. Andrew got out of having to crawl under the car in the heat to drain the oil when a local mechanic scuttled under there before we knew what was happening. With most jobs done, and being sick of waiting to hear about the Iranian visa, we headed up to the mountains, towards Shimla.

We had met some French people who had been camping in the car park near the embassy's in Delhi for over a month, waiting to hear about their Iranian visas, and didn't want to waste time doing the same thing.
We reached the mountains just south west of the Himalayas within 2 days and they made and a delightful change from the oppressive heat of Dehli.
We got a positive email about the Iranian visas on the way up and decided to stay just 2 days, then head back. We found a quiet and cool bush camping spot amongst some trees near a small village called Chial, home of the worlds highest cricket ground (2200 m).
The drive back down the mountains was broken up by a brief (and somewhat nervous) ride on an Indian cable car which stretched between two mountains.

We saw it and both laughed 'that ought to be a bit of fun'. You just never know how well run and organised, or how terribly chaotic something is going to be. Except for those who stood at the very edge of the cable car holding area, about 5 meters past the bright yellow line and writing which read 'DO NOT STAND PASS THIS POINT', it was fine. The huge drop down the mountain side didn't deter them.
Unfortunately we reached the Iranian embassy bright and early, dressed to impress and they had heard nothing of our authorisation codes. We had paid a company to arrange it for us, as Iran requests normally that you have a letter of invitation from someone you are staying with in the country. With a company, it isn't needed. We found out later that day that our visa's had been rejected, and we still don't know why. Kate Hamer's brilliance in Turkey, depositing money into the visa company's Turkish bank account for us was in vain.

We have to be out of India by the 17th of June, and somehow arrange to apply again for our Iranian visas, while we are in the Himalayas. We can either try another company or head to Pakistan, Islamabad, and apply there. Back to Jodi's to do a spot of washing and to use her excellent and reliable Internet...before heading to the Himalayas and one of the most spectacular and highest roads in the world, the Manali to Leh road!