Unimaginable chaos and incredible hustle, firecrackers exploding right under our feet, horns never go quiet, tons of rubbish cover almost every square inch of the ground. All that, and many other things we don't understand, makes us wonder if all our holiday will look like this.

On the other hand, after a while, we slowly start to find everything fascinating.

The streets, as a place to live, seem to be much more attractive than dark and dirty houses.

We don't regret taking this trip even for a moment. After all, this is what we came here for - to understand India or at least a little part of it. To be able to look at our own country from a different perspective.

Street merchants use every opportunity to sell their goods to bystanders. Other people, of more or less absorbing occupation, gather in small groups of common interest - chatting and chewing areka seeds. Seems like smoking as well as drinking isn't very popular in India. Probably because of high cost of such substances. Areka seems to be much cheaper alternative.

Another thing Hindu people can't imagine living their lives without, is:
- Chyaayeeeeeeee!
That's right. Tea, chai... strong, very sweet and always served with milk (straight from holy cow of course).

We are the only ones standing out here. Our clean clothes and white faces work like magnets for every riksha driver, clerk, merchant or even a common bystander.

The food is often made directly on the street. Here, someone fries sweets in a huge metal pot. Everyone seem to know everyone.

We don't want to have our first culinary experience on the street. Having all the precautions about different bacteria cultures on mind, we slowly try to adopt by eating yoghurts and cooked food.

There will be many other chances to try local sweets.

"We've landed safely, we are all right, everything is fine" - the message send to our families is necessary. We don't want them to worry.

Intenret access although extremely slow, is widely available here. A traditional letter would likely get to Poland earlier.

Staying in Delhi for a long time isn't something we are after. Without wasting precious time, we take a walk to New Delhi Railway Station to be about to book tickets for our first train in India.

The best thing to do is to go to the International Tourist Bureau. (I've mentioned it in part I of this journal).

Without even knowing where to go exactly, we strive toward the stairs, located on the side of the main hall, leaving all the scalpers behind. Once you hesitate, they are all over you.

The office turns out to be closed because of the holiday. No problem, we'll come back tomorrow.

But... as long as we are here, let's look around.

Mendicity is a very "popular" occupation here and apparently profitable as many people decide to mutilate themselves in order to look more pathetic. Sadly enough, children also became victims of such practice.

From the very first moment our feet had touched Indian ground, we have this strange impression that we travelled back in time and landed somewhere (well... sometime) between XIX and XXI century.

Every step we get this feeling of being able to look at the world with the eyes of the first explorers.

Only street adds and signboards remind us of where we are.

The festival begins. An old and exuberant one. But that's another story...