Northwest India

As soon as I had crossed the border, even though it had only been miles since leaving Pakistan, the temperature and humidity appeared to rise by a notch. The road surfaces improved massively, but with that comes faster (and crazier) driving by the locals. The trucks were not painted as colourfully as they had been in Pakistan, but there were differences apparent in the people. In Pakistan, there had been few women on the streets and those that were were hidden away behind face veils. Here in India, they sat peacefully on the back of scooters that were being driven by their husbands. They wear colourful saris and smile. A smile says a lot about contentment. The men wear western style trousers and shirts, which, I have to say was a disappointment after the traditional Pakistan dress (baggy 'ali-baba' trousers and 3/4 length shirts).
India seems like a relatively rich country in comparison to Pakistan. The roads and infrastructure are significantly better and the villages and towns are better arranged. In terms of the people, there seems to be many more poor people in India, apparent by the hygiene and begging. There are certainly more people here and it is much more densely populated than any of the other 18 countries that I have visited so far on this trip.
After a couple of hours' riding up toward the north-west region, I was greeted by my first serving of monsoon rain. When it rains here, it really rains. Visibility goes to nothing and you get absolutely drenched. The locals sensibly all pulled over by the side of the road to wait it out. It seems that it is an expected occurrence, with even the time being known (4pm). In future, I think that it would be wise to follow the locals' lead! They do, after all have the inside knowledge.
Riding through India felt strange at first. India is a very long way away from London and I had ridden all of the way here. The culture is hugely different and the cars, people etc, are also different. Some days I need to pinch myself to realise how far I have come!
There had been some monsoon floods in the north of India, causing quite a bit of damage. The villages here are so simple here with poor drainage that when it rains, the roads turn to rivers. I had heard about the floods on the news, but it wasn't apparent in any places that I visited.
The first destination in the Northwest was to be McLeodgung, the home of the Dalai Lama. There is more than just a strong Tibetan presence in this region and their peaceful outlook is much less intensive than that in other parts of India. Tourists have turned McLeodgung into something of a hippy town. It is up in the hills, above Dharamsalah. A comfortable retreat to both relax and to escape the heat and humidity. Tourists with dreadlocks like to 'find themselves' here, dressing in sarongs with their dreadlocks and piercings. As you can tell, not my scene, but a relaxed place to mooch around during the days.
Cows wandering in the streets and lanes in the Indian towns (and even cities) appears to be normal, although they end up eating all of the rubbish that the locals have discarded by the street sides. It seems that they are given equal rights to live in the city streets as people!
The next stop in Northwestern India was Shimla, another hill town, this time more substantial and really built into a steep mountainside. On the way across, monkeys were on the road-sides, giving both something to look at and something to dodge! The monkeys were also in the city of Shimla. Many of the houses have grilles on the windows to prevent them from coming in. There was even a monkey temple further up in the hills where the monkeys have free roam and harass the visitors for food, grasping at clothes (not from personal experience, but if you visit, a belt for your trousers is recommended!).
From Shimla, there was a fairly fast road down to Delhi, where, again, the crazy driving went up a notch, which a melee of cars, trucks, buses, bicycles and rickshaws all eagerly going about their business. Delhi, as you might expect is a massive, sprawling city. Upon eventually reaching the centre, I visited the Red Fort and a couple of museums and memorials to the Ghandi family. There were also some massive market streets, packed with people jostling and bargaining. From experience, I can confirm that this is an easy place to get lost in! Unfortunately, most of the items on sale were tat, so I didn't buy any souvenirs, much to the dismay of the shop keepers who were all keen for me to come in for 'just looking'.