This has been a very hectic month and so that is my excuse
for the lack of blog posts recently. A lot has happened over a short period of
time, but I will attempt to cover everything briefly. Mark Twain once said that
he wrote a long letter because he did not have enough time to write a short
one. Based on that sentiment please forgive my poor attempt to keep this brief.
At the start of the month two new interns, Matt and Sam,
joined us in Delhi. I was initially apprehensive about the idea of sharing a
room again, but I have soon got used to it. They are both working at the Sannam
S4 office with me (although Matt is working for BDO) and so it is nice to have other
people doing the same route as I am in the morning. Being with people who are
new to Delhi has enabled me to appreciate it once again, as the strangeness
that I had begun to take for granted excites those that are yet to experience
it. This has gradually worn off, as they too accept the wandering cow in the
street as being as normal as seeing people walking a dog at home.
At the start of the month I went to my first IPL game in
India. For those that don’t know, the Indian Premier League is a 6 week
tournament with Indian teams paying the best players in the world to play
Twenty 20 cricket for them. This is cricket, but not as we know it. Flashing
lights, cheer leaders and blaring music replace cricket whites, cucumber
sandwiches and the polite ripple of applause when a player reaches a landmark
score. A depleted Delhi Daredevils team (minus the injured Virender Sehwag,
Kevin Pietersen and Jesse Ryder) restricted Rajasthan Royals to 165. David
Warner played excellently to make it look like a formality. But then he
inexcusably got himself run out. Delhi collapsed and finished 5 runs short,
with Kevin Cooper taking two wickets in the last over. With this defeat Delhi
went on to lose six games on the trot and are currently bottom of the table.
But it wouldn’t be quite right for me to support a successful team, would it?
The following weekend we all went to Rishikesh to go white
water rafting. Joan, at Sannam S4, had organised this and several of my work colleagues
came too. An overnight bus, in which we were stopped by the police for trying
to bring alcohol into the area, brought us to Rishikesh. After breakfast we
embarked upon the 30km course. The instructor spoke mainly in Hindi, with Arun,
hardly the most responsible person in the world, translating. We would say we
wanted to keep the boat upright and Arun would tell the instructor we wanted
the boat to capsize. Fortunately the instructor did not oblige. It was a really
good experience, but I’m not entirely sure our rowing made much difference to
where the boat went. It seemed to me that it followed the current regardless.
After the rafting we played volleyball by our campsite, before lighting a camp
fire after dinner. There was the rather amusing experience of listening to
Hindi songs, with Nikita, one of my colleagues at Sannam S4, translating the
words into English.
After the excitements of rafting, the rather infamous Sannam
S4 came round a week later. Earlier in that week we had practiced in the hotel
with a bin for wickets and the lift as the wicket keeper. The match was played
against a team of ex pats who play a bit more regularly that the guys at
Sannam. Most had not played since the last match a year ago, while I had not
played with a proper cricket ball since my Arundel days at middle school.
The
team started quite well, with no wickets in the first 4 overs, even if not many
runs were scored. When the first opener fell, Matt strode out to bat. He was
soon returning as Arun managed to run him out. More followed quickly. I was
asked to field for the other team to make up the numbers, but soon realised I’d
have to get back to put my pads on. A deceptively quick bowler took 3 wickets
in four balls and suddenly I had to rush to the crease. The pads were far too
big for me and witnesses have described my walk to the middle as the most
entertaining part of the day. Batting at number 11 I did survive the first two
balls. This may have been more from luck than judgement as the ball sailed past
my leg stump. At the other end Rob went after the other bowler, put on to try
to help us reach a respectable score. But suddenly he called for me to run. One
was gettable, but he wanted the second. In the pads that was never going to
happen and I was comfortably run out. It wasn’t even worth a dive I was so far
away. Overall the team were bowled out for just over 50. The other team knocked
off the runs in less than 5 overs and it had been an even more comprehensive
defeat than the year before.
After 4 days at work I was off travelling once again. Jess
and I managed to get the day off to travel to Jodhpur on Thursday night, while
the other guys joined us the following day. The blue city, Jodhpur had been a
destination that we had all wanted to visit from the moment we arrived in
Delhi. The fort above the city offers stunning views across the blue painted
buildings and market square. It was a lot hotter than anything I had
experienced before, with it reaching 42 degrees at the hottest point in the
day. Too hot to do anything productive. I have never spent so much time
sheltered in air conditioned cafés. At this time of year Jodhpur is a tourist
town without the tourists; most far more sensibly sheltering in cooler
destinations. Every guesthouse claims to be recommended by Lonely Planet. To
rebel against this we ate at an omelette shop which claimed to not be recommended
by Lonely Planet, but was recommended by everyone else.
From the fort above the city there is a zip wire course run
by a British company called Flying Fox. Boris Johnson has promoted the zip wire and
appears in all their advertising. Given his experience at the London Olympics I’d
trust no-one else on knowledge of zip wires. The course is stunning. You fly
across the walls of the fort, with the view of Jodhpur’s blue city in the
background. The only problem is that you have to pick up enough speed to get to
the other side. On the last wire that did not happen and I was stuck part way
across. The instructor had to come across and pull me back to the other side.
It may have only lasted a few minutes, but it felt a lot longer with my legs
dangling in mid-air.
A very short week at work followed and Thursday morning I
was off again. An early morning flight to Leh in Ladakh meant that we flew into
the highest airport in the world for just past 7am. It must be said that Ladakh
is one of the most beautiful places in India. With snow topped mountains and a
barren landscape it appears more like Afghanistan than India. But our trip was
not the success that we hoped it would be. Due to the altitude it is suggested
that you take two days rest before doing anything in Ladakh. Due to the lack of
time at our disposal we could not do that. Both Sam and Jess were ill by the
second day, Sam to the extent that she had to spend most of the day in bed. It
was mere chance that I did not have the same problem. I have no idea why I was
not affected and there is clearly no correspondence with fitness.
Despite the issues with altitude we did try to do as much as
possible in the area. The town was good for walking round, with craft stalls
round every corner. Despite my general reluctance to do any shopping myself I
was persuaded to buy a scarf which, whilst redundant in Delhi, will not be out
of place in the winters at home. We took a taxi out to Tikse, a 20km drive
through the barren landscape to a beautiful Tibetan monastery with amazing panoramic
views of the surrounding area. High above Leh stood the Shanti Stupa, with
views across the town. Our guesthouse was incredibly welcoming, with home
cooked bread for breakfast every morning. They had a very excitable young calf
in the garden, bounding about the place without a care for the altitude that
was holding us back. When we left the owners gave us a traditional goodbye.
This was hospitality that we would never receive in Delhi, with only the high
temperatures welcoming us back to our home for the next few months.
