I have been advised to use a guide in Varanasi because of the crime in the city, gang culture, and their tendency to pick on unsuspecting tourists. Mr Dipate repeatedly tells me that it is not safe to walk around by myself and assures me I have made a good decision by selecting him as my guide.

The ride is highly entertaining because of the traffic along the way. Twice we stop, once for two grossly overloaded tractors carrying some precariously balanced bales of hay, and the other for an autorickshaw which hits us and scratches the car up the side. The driver and his mate jam on the brakes, leap from the vehicle, chase down the culprits and demand money from them for the damages and repairs. After a huge amount of loud "discussion" between our driver and the autorickshaw driver, we eventually get going again.

We arrive at the hotel at which I am stoked to finally find a place that is reasonably fancy and inviting. I get an official Indian welcome including flowers and religious blessing, a cup of hot tea, and staff eager to accommodate me. My room has a powerful, hot shower, a European toilet, and a fantastically soft bed. This hotel has come at just the right time as my stomach is not good at all.

After a short but refreshing nap, Mr Dipate takes me to a carpet emporium where I am treated to traditional Indian belly dancing and lemon tea, and then shown some expensive and beautiful, hand made, carpets and rugs. The dancing is just amazing. I sit around the edge of a wooden dance floor on a pillow with a host of other would-be carpet buyers and am just enthralled with the intensity, culture, and passion that is put into the display by these ladies; a once in a life time experience. I am sure there is an element of disappointment from the emporium owners because I don't by a carpet and I leave feeling slightly guilty about it because of how welcoming they have been and for what they have shared with me.

I get to bed fairly early after dinner to prepare for an early start to my Ganges River experience.

As soon as I step off the train, I know this is going to be another out-there experience because the people trying to sell me things here, is more prominent than ever. Everything from little miniature Taj's, to camera and films, to bottled water, is being thrust in my face, and in every other unsuspecting tourists face. I tighten my grip on the pile of cash and passport in my pocket.

A short bus ride to the Taj Mahal, Agra Fort, and an impressive Marble Emporium filled in most of my day before I was to catch the overnight train to the Holy City of Varanasi and the Ganges.

The Taj is a sight to behold and I just stand and marvel at its beauty and boldness before deciding to approach it for a closer look. It took 200 years to build and is a symbol of love from an Indian King to his wife, doubling also as her tomb. I am warned of a scam before venturing into the grounds of the Taj and that is taking a photo of you and acting as if it is a friendly gesture, and then charging you off the wall for the pic. Fortunately, I take my own pics. (It's interesting looking back at the pictures and the amount of random Indians that seem to invade the background of all of them.)

The Marble Emporium is crazy. All of the work is done on the ground outside; carving, smoothing, shining, and even sticking the little coloured glass pattern pieces to each item. It looks like pain-staking work and even though I can't afford to buy a piece, I take a photo and give the dude a tip for his picture. Just some amazing work.

After a Kingfisher and a vegetarian curry, I head back to the Agra train station and am faced with a 3 hour, unexpected wait for the train to Varanasi. The wait is long and cold and my stomach is not feeling at all good but I don't want to use the scummy train station toilets. I sit on the concrete platform, leaning against my pack and watch the many interesting happenings and goings on that the station provides.

Finally I board the second class, sleeper carriage, and with my feet sticking off the end of my bunk, get a good nights sleep in (as well as can be expected, what with food and beverage sellers boarding at every stop) before waking to yet another amazing, Indian city.

To be continued…

I start by going to Sonu café in Pahraganj again this morning after first having my all over, dettol wipe, body wash.

I proceed to the railway station and find the mass of yellow and black taxis all jammed in waiting for fares, and I make one guy very happy by hiring him and his taxi, and touring for the day.

I have decided that I will venture to the Indian Parliament buildings, India Gate, and then to the New Zealand High Commission.

The parliament buildings are really impressive to look at and also very impressively guarded with sentries posted at all gates and on all corners, high and low. It is more like prison security than a parliament building. Some serious looking men with some serious looking machine guns.

India Gate is interesting, not the structure as such because that kind of looks like a mini Arc de Triomphe but dirtier, but the fact that a snake charmer is getting a lot of attention. So I go over there and see what all the fuss is about. He has three snakes, all in baskets, and he's playing his little recorder, tapping this snake on the head, and it appears to be moving to the music. At the time I feel like the snake is really just pissed off at the fact he keeps tapping it on the head so I pay him his 5 rupees and move on.

The New Zealand High Commission is heavily guarded also, so I have a yarn to the guys guarding it, take a few pics (as it's probably the nicest place in India I've seen so far), and be on my way. I stop at some emporiums on the way home and buy these blanket type things called Naga Shoals which are hand-woven and take 6 months to complete. I pay 925 rupees which is about $31.

For the third night in a row at Sam's Rooftop Restaurant, I eat eggs and chips because my food poisoning paranoia has not decreased and so I'm sticking with the safe option.

After yet another breakfast at Sonu Café, I hail an auto-rickshaw, which doesn't take much hailing, and head to the famous Red Fort which is a palace that used to house the Indian Emperor. I had a guide take me round and managed to learn some interesting stuff, when I could understand him.

My trip back in the auto-rickshaw is carnage because there is so much traffic and it is not helped by drivers all yelling at each other in what seems like very fast Hindi. Great times!

After dinner I reflect on my few days in Delhi. It has been an enjoyable place once I accepted and understood the Indian way of life and living. I have stopped being hassled as much in the street to buy things as it seems like everyone knows me, but really I think that I have just got used to it. My most interesting money making advance was a little girl doing back flips and other contortionist stuff. Overall I think will miss Pharaganj and Delhi but am looking forward to the rest of my trip.

Tomorrow morning I head to Agra and the Taj Mahal and then on to Varanasi and the mighty Ganges. I am travelling by train so I think that is going to be an experience from the observations I have made at the train station! Stay tuned.

To be continued…

I decided to head to this little place on Main Bazaar for breakfast called Sonu, where I eat a tasty, onion masala dosa and again only used my hands as a result of severe paranoia over the rag, utensil incident.

I decide to head down to the train station just because I get a very real feeling of India and the Indian way of life there just observing all the happenings. Observations I make are the fact that it is probably the dirtiest place I have seen I my life. Rats and mice scurrying around; rubbish strewn everywhere (especially beetle nut packets); and all of these orange spit stains, which I eventually work out to be the leftovers of the beetle nut.

Some men on the opposite platform from me are taking a wizz onto the tracks below and exposing themselves to everyone including a group of kids who are crouched down there eating lunch.

The porters I find extremely amusing because they are jumping, literally, at every train that pulls in, to carry people's bags. They are all trying to be the first onto the train so that they can be of service to the best clients, and so boarding the train before it stops is a prerequisite. I identify these porters by the coats they are wearing which are a bright red. The fact that even with the competition for the service amongst them, they seem to be good friends and watch out for each other.

I wander the bazaar on the way back to my hotel taking note of the colour that surrounds me and how good the fruit looks that piles the sidewalks; delicious red apples, bright yellow bananas, and juicy, round oranges. Of course, they are washed in the local water and doused regularly to make them appealing for the many potential shoppers, so I'm not buying any.

Being a teacher, I organize a tour of St Columba's School where I have arranged to meet the Christian Brothers and take a tour. I take an auto-rickshaw there and again my adrenaline is pumping as we race by the many thousands of people all going somewhere and having something to do. The school is a middle class, Catholic school, but amongst the shambolic look of Old Delhi, it looks extremely well off. I learn from one of the Brothers that the school is used as a shelter for lepers during the night where they receive a meal and a safe place to sleep. I get to meet a few of them but unfortunately their English is very limited (plus they are extremely shy and reluctant to talk). I am not at all bothered by their deformities and am happy to see that something is being done to help.

I make my way to Sam's Rooftop Restaurant for dinner again and am wondering when, or if, my belt of food poisoning is going to kick in.

I have been subtly asked today, many times, and by a number of people, if I would like to buy some hashish. These people seem to slink out of the shadows at opportune times and ask in a whisper, “you like to smoke?” When I say no, they don't bother me as other traders do because I think they are a little worried about the big, beige dressed policemen who wield big sticks, arresting them.

Apart from a cold which I have contracted from the pollution in the last 24 hours, I have had a great day and am looking to forward to tomorrow and more of what India has to offer.

To be continued…

My hotel room is a little white box with one double bed, and a window that looks out into the hallway. The security for the room is a huge padlock and key and I have to duck to get through the door. The bathroom is a mangy looking toilet, a small hand basin, and a bucket and cup for washing. However, I feel extremely lucky as my toilet is a European toilet which means no squatting. Stoked!

On reflection of Delhi thus far, I have discerned poverty, filth, rubbish, population density, and the fact that people are living with this. I think to myself "why would you want to live at all?"

The question I keep coming back to is "how am I ever going to explain what I have seen today to my family?" Just phenomenal.

I am drained. It is 2.45am and I am going to lay down in my clothes under one brown, grimy looking blanket and try to sleep. I am better off than some. I don't know whether I'm looking forward to tomorrow or not.

I have tried to explain as accurately as possible the scenes, experiences and feelings I have received in just one day in India but it is all the seemingly small things that I have missed out that make this an extraordinary country. You have to see it to believe it. This is the real India.

To be continued…

The first impressions of this place come from the sights and smells that elongate the senses. The streets are bustling. No, in fact carnage! The smell, whilst driving along in my 1950's English style taxi - which I thought would at any moment, fall apart - was phenomenal. A kind of a mix between the body odour of 12 million people, and unhygienic meats.

Driving to the hotel was hilariously funny and felt incredibly dangerous. Imagine a two lane highway where literally thousands of vehicles are jostling for position and a taxi driver driving as fast as he could, all the while beeping and breaking at regular, random intervals. He said he knew where he was going. I was sceptical. Of course, I am expecting to be ripped off so I'm just taking in as much as I can, while I can.

Driving by I'm seeing thousands of cars, people, and shops - mostly street eateries displaying all manner of foods including chickens hanging from hooks - and the driver does a u-turn. He then manoeuvres his way into a crowded back street in an area known as Paharganj. I'm now feeling like I'm in the closest place to hell because I am obviously not at my hotel and the car can hardly move because of the sheer density of people, animals, and bicycles around it. There are markets, thousands of them, jammed into this one street, beggars pleading for money at my open window, men trying to sell me all matter of things - mostly cigarettes - and some of the worst looking food that I have ever seen. The homeless are lying under their blankets. Cows and dogs are roaming the streets and nobody takes a sideways glance at them; except me. To top this all off, cars, rickshaws - both auto and man powered - trucks, tractors, bikes, and motorbikes are trying to go every which way on one, single lane road! Crazy!

The smell is worse here. It is the previous mixture, only stronger now. A smell of urine taints it even more.

My taxi driver finally makes it to my hotel after numerous stops and offers from his mates about places to stay, and things to buy. I am flustered and on the verge of angry with him. I go to pay him and he asks for a tip. I stupidly hand over a couple of hundred rupees as a tip. Little did I know that even though it only equated to about 6 bucks, this could literally feed his whole family for about a week. Hence he makes a very quick getaway in case I realised how much of an idiot I was.

My final realisation after leaving my taxi behind, is that my hotel is in the area of Paharganj anyway and so after what seemed like hours of needless driving, I was already where I needed to be.

To be continued…

Now that I have tempted you into booking a flight to the USA immediately, its only fair that I inform you of what you will be treated to before you arrive…the flight. To demonstrate just what is in store, I would like to recount a recent flight I made to New York before catching a connection to Washington DC.

I set off for the airport early with the weather cool. The airport was blissfully quiet and after an uneventful check in, I was given "the forms". The forms provide, in my eyes, the first section of in flight entertainment! They consist of two pieces of bureaucracy. The first inquires about the value of the goods I am bringing into America and the other is the Visa Waiver. Basically, the waiver allows me to enter the US for 90 days to do whatever I want…except get a job, file for welfare, claim a pension or commit any crime (spoil sports). Furthermore, I have to swear that I'm not a terrorist, a communist, a spy, a criminal and that I've never been a Nazi. I have to wonder whether anyone has ever said "yes" to any of these questions. I'm always tempted to say "yes" in an attempt to be funny, however American immigration control…especially in New York, is famous for having large firearms and very little humour!

The flight was actually rather pleasant. The movies were poor, but it didn't matter as I was fortunately sat next to a very nice American lady. We chatted for several hours and after a while, I managed to forget that the seat in front of me had jammed my knees behind my ears and there was a baby screaming behind me.

Since the flight was a connection, I had a 90 minute layover in NY. I sat and read, listening to the permanently annoyed drawl of the New Yorkers rambling around me and boarded my flight at 5pm, heading to Washington DC. It was mercifully under booked and I had a window seat above the engine. I relaxed for nearly five minutes when the captain informed us that an emergency light had flickered to life as he was about to fire the engines and we had to pull off the runway. Suddenly, the window seat over thousands of gallons of jet fuel seemed less appealing. Still, I got a beautiful view of the clouds as we climbed through them and I was happy to be alive for the short flight. Landing in DC, I was amazed that I wasn't anally probed by customs...again, and I headed to the Metro stop, slightly disappointed that Customs had spared me my usual welcome to the US. It's not so bad when you get used to it!

So what have we learned about flying to America? Strike up a conversation with the person next to you whether they like it or not, try and enjoy the probing and never say you are a Nazi…even for a joke!

A great place to take the kids, especially in the spring and summer months. As it sits along lake Michigan, there's a Ferris wheel outside along with indoor shopping and food. Parking is quite expensive, be prepared to pay anywhere from $20 to $30. This is true for most of downtown, Chicago. During the weekday it is impossible to find inexpensive parking.

Millennium Park

A recent addition to Chicago, Millennium Park sits on Michigan Avenue. In the winter months there's an ice rink. During the hot summer months, bring a spare change of clothes for the kids, there's a fountain they'd love to get wet under. Underground parking is available.

Michigan Avenue

A trip to Chicago would not be complete without seeing the Magnificent Mile on Michigan Avenue. Shop the stores, visit the Art Museum, and ride the trolley.

Lincoln Park Zoo

Be sure to bring the kids to Lincoln Park Zoo. Admission is always free. Grab a bite to eat at the zoo or be sure to take your own picnic lunch.

Wrigley Field

On the Northside of Chicago sits Wrigley Field, home of the Cubs. Many films have used the outside of the stadium and you will likely recognize the bright red sign. Tickets are difficult to come by, even for die-hard fans that live in Chicago. If you do manage to find tickets (stubhub, ticketmaster) don't leave before the 7th inning stretch as someone (sometimes famous) will sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” You will also notice that residents surrounding the stadium will be on their roofs, with stadium seating watching the game from home!

The Museum of Science and Industry

Chicago hosts many museums located along Lake Michigan. Most are near Solider Field (home of the Chicago Bears). The Museum of Science and Industry however is located near the southside, right off I-55. They typically have temporary exhibits worth noting when you visit. They've hosted both CSI and Star Wars.