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After 24 hours of travel and about 16 hours of sitting around waiting, I’m writing safely from my hotel room in Nehru Place, Delhi. From my coworker’s room, I can see Iskcon, a harikrishna temple, and the Lotus Temple. From my window, I’ve got a lovely view of traffic and ratty apartments.

I could tell from Heathrow that Delhi would be a much different city than Bangalore. For one, the Delhi terminal was prominent in the airport, close to all of the shops whereas the Bangalore flights were in an old, remote part of the airport, far from the shops, and in the case of my departing flight, with just a non-functional vending machine. The second clue was the people waiting to board our flight. My fellow Bangalore travelers were 90% Indian in traditional dress; 90% of the Delhi travelers were Europeans on holiday.

In general, Delhi is a real city and Bangalore is a tiny city attempting to live with a real city’s population. Delhi has a subway system; a real, large downtown; a wealthy class that proudly flashes it’s wealth in the form of luxury cars and giant, nicely kept houses; and Delhi has a healthy number of tourists. They both have the iconic Indian pollution, wild traffic, hand-painted municipal signs, and salwar/kamis/sari wearing population.

I’m off to the office. Pictures and more, later.