Day 8- Saturday 8th March- Delhi, India

We awoke very late at 11:30 to the sound of splashing water; a sound I welcomed with opened arms since it meant the toilets were working again as my stomach was still a bit ill, the girls being the same too. We took our time getting up because any sudden movements disagreed with my stomach. When we were finally up, we walked to the office to ask about the whereabouts of a post office. Ali told us it was further into the city and that he would have someone take us there.
A driver emerged and led us down the road to his very retro car, with bench seats and heavy doors you really had to slam. He asked the usual questions along the way. It was very busy and smoggy on the roads, presumably because it was the weekend. The post office was in the middleof a roundabout which, needless to say, was hell getting to because of the sheer craziness of the roads. When we got inside, it was typically Indian: people everywhere, but no real sense of order anywhere. I wanted to send the pashmina I had bought for my mum as it was her birthday, but I had no idea where to go or what to do, so I just bought some stamps and sent my postcards. We hopped back in the car and told the driver to take us back to the office.
'Ok,' he said, 'I will take you to a nice shop first.'
We were on a tight schedule, since our flight out of India was later that day: 'No thanks,' we said, 'just the office, please.'
He said something about it being our final day in Delhi and before long had stopped at a shop that seemed to sell jewellery and statues. We knew that if we went in, just for a few minutes, we'd end up taking forever trying to politely tell the shop keepers 'NO, WE DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR FUCKING STUFF'.
'Go in.' He said.
'We have no money.' We said.
'It is free to look!' He insisted.
'No. Just take us back to the office please.'
Reluctantly, he started driving again.
'You are hungry?' He asked.
'Yes, but we're going to buy food at a supermarket.' I told him.
'I will take you to a very nice restaurant.' he said confidently.
At this point, I realised that all the places he wanted to take us and all the random places KP insisted on taking us, are probably the businesses of friends or family who want to cash in on the wealthy, gullible foreigners.
He really wanted to take us to this restaurant, but we firmly told him: 'Office. No restaurant.' and he dropped us off in a sulk.
From the office, we walked the same sort of direction as the one we had been with SG the night before because we had spotted a supermarket there. I bought muffins and crisps and the girls bought similar junk. The supermarket employees are just as annoying as any other shop owners! 'Would you like to buy this?' they would say as they followed us all around the store.
We walked back to the guesthouse and chilled out for an hour or so with our food. After this hour, it was time to go, so we packed our bags and walked back to the office. We'd found this place by accident, and they had kind of just kidnapped us, but it had given us such an amazing week. Ali, SG, Billy and the rest of the crew said goodbye and wished us well. We then got into the same retro car with the same driver to head to the airport.
It'd been an eventful week, and an amazing one at that. India is so vibrant and exciting, but man it can be an effort.
Our flight wasn't until 11pm, but we'd been told that sometimes airlines get overbooked in India, so it comes down to the first to arrive. We arrived at about 4 and head to the departures lounge. Before we found it, we bumped into a nice English guy who was on his way back to London. He told us where to go. An Indian guy showed us the way and told us he could give us a tour of Delhi in the time before our flight. No thanks.
The departures lounge was wholly boring, just rows upon rows of uncomfortable seats. The English guy sat next to us and we chatted about India and previous travels. After about an hour, he left for his flight and we still had another two hours to go. In that time, I wrote my journal and tried to ring Mum, but got no answer, so I left her a happy birthday message. Our call eventually came at 8, so we left and checked in.
The Singapore airlines groundstaff were very helpful and efficient and sorted us out with checking in, no probs. On going through immigration, we walked past a man sitting at a mounted assault rifle and then recieved a new stamp in our passports. For some reason (NOTE: I later found out this is because I had my swiss army knife in my hand-luggage), my bag had to be searched after going through the X-rays. The guard who did it just kind of rummaged a bit, didn't find anything and then shrugged and let me go. That's comforting, how thorough airport security is here.
Next step was more waiting. Boarding was delayed from 22:15 to 22:50, so it dragged on and on. I bought a subway, but then became a bit scared when some american girls in the queue next to me reminded me that Indian salad can be dangerous. We finally boarded after what seemed like forever.
I was sat next to a nice man from Jodhpur. I chatted to him about India and Singapore- he had a furniture business or something there. We finally took off at around 23:30.