Jounral from a Trip to New Delhi, 1995

28 July 1995 New Delhi

None of the guidebooks list the Blue Star Restaurant, yet it is only a stone's throw from the outer ring of Connaught Place. Venture slightly beyond the safe haunts of the tourist throngs ringed within and the Blue Star is easy to spot. Its forecourt is the landing pad for a gigantic concrete tea cup one to make the Mad Hatter proud.. That teacup and its cracked twin out back by the latrine are each capable of hosting parties of twelve or more. But the cups, these cups anyways, are not the headliners at the Blue Star. Maybe I'm dense and should have been tipped off by the name somehow. This is a Delhi cabaret - this is Delhi's strip bar!

What a fitting last port 'o call for Quinn and I before we part company in an attempt not only to save Delhi from our ravages of the past 72 hours, but to save ourselves from each other. It's been competitive mayhem in practicing the philosophy of the anti-tourist.

The BS has three revues a night: 6, 8 and 10pm. We opt for the the 8 and get lost for a while debating what "Two fifty each" will translate into when it comes round to paying the admission charge.

"Look, "Q posits, "the zoo was only 50 paise (1.5 US cents). This animal show is five times that!"

Its 8. We are at the ticket kiosk. I plunk down a 5 rupee coin. It doesn't ring back with a laugh but elicits a glare from the attendant. "TWO HUNDRED FIFTY ($7) each." We're stunned. Quinn blurts out, "There's a lot more to see at the zoo!" We're encouraged to get lost. Instead we head, ticket less, straight for the cabaret entrance. "Who'll question a couple of foreigners trying to slip in?" - The ticket taker for one and the security bouncer for another. Cast away a second time there's one hope left. I ask for the manager. I get Mr. Shiu, the owner, instead. What luck!

"Look, we just want a peek, a little one. We'll help you in your business. There are no tourists here. We'll get you in the guidebooks. Just ten minutes." Shiu considers the business aspects - asks who we write for and we're in - Advance men for the b'Loney Planet. Like they put joints like this in their backpacker bibles? Sure.