新德里 (NEW DELHI)

I was sad to leave Jaipur for New Delhi; I already live in a Asian capital city, after all, and was quite enjoying the feel of a comparatively small town.

But Carebear assured me that Delhi was good fun and she backed that up by taking me, on our first morning, to a cafe with a marvelous browsing collection of the works of Osho, my favorite free love advocating, Bentley driving, racist joke telling, cuckoo for Cocoa puffs Indian new age guru.

If you have ever received a handmade postcard from me there is about a %40 chance that the image featured an Osho quote cut from one of his many many books or pamphlets (I've been collecting the meditation series, featuring titles like "Live Dangerously" and "Believing the Impossible Before Breakfast").

In addition to Osho books and framed inspirational quotes from religious classics ("Those who know don't say; those who say don't know") the cafe served sweet tea and the fresh coconut juice I'd been hankering for. Perfection.

In the afternoon we headed to Dili Haat, a market with some good food stalls and all kinds of textiles and other souvenirs. Because you have to pay 15 rupees (30 cents) to enter the market, it was refreshingly free of touts and other harassment.

But that didn't mean I didn't get suckered into trying on this fancy horse and rider costume (complete with turban!) and then bullied into giving the owner of the horse 50 rupees in baksheesh.

Whatever - it was worth it. That horse was one hell of a wild ride!

The last big destination of the day was Qutb Minar, a complex of Indo-Islamic architecture featuring ruins, intact tombs and mosques, and a stunning seven-story brick minaret built in 1192.

Because the tower has started to tilt it is no longer possible to climb to its top. Instead, we sat in the grass in its shadow, enjoying the perfect weather.

I played harem wench (much to the apparent disapproval of the dude behind me)

and took pictures of my henna-ed starfeet...

...while Carrie read aloud from the guidebook on the historical significance of the place.

We also realized that the enormous discrepancy in the admission fee for Indians and foreigners (10 rupees, or 20 cents, versus 250 rupees, or $5) probably accounted for the huge numbers of Indian families and schoolchildren (and relative lack of whiteys) strolling the grounds. It was nice to see citizens enjoying their own country and not just foreign faces drinking in the local color.

This little boy approached us and asked if we would take his picture. I did so and then showed him the result. "Thank you" he said politely, and walked away.

Pictures from around the complex:

Carebear mugs for the camera in front of a renovated red sandstone structure:

I wanted a picture of myself emerging from the same structure but after we realized it made me look like my disembodied head was floating three feet off the ground I tried some new poses.

We had a wonderful day.