Out early in search of Delhi's rooftop flower markets. The saintly Jain lady has told us about them.On roof tops and upper courtyards hundreds and hundreds of flower sellers. Mountains of rose petals and marigolds. Quite invisible to passers by . Maybe one tourist in a thousand gets to see them. For some reason the flower sellers in the photograph below have that sort of lifeless pose you see in photos from the American Civil War.
Asafoetida. A staple of Indian cuisine. Difficult to find in France. ' The font ' determined to bring some home. It is said to balance sweet, spicy, sour and salty components in food. Its odour so strong that it will contaminate other spices stored nearby. Deep in the market we find a solitary seller with large chunks of it. The stall holder informs us it's excellent for preventing flatulence. The Jain lady says it's the best defence against Swine Flu.
Our final afternoon. A trip to the National Museum. Ahead of us in the entry queue a throng of Buddhist monks. '' Not something you see every day " says ' the font ' as we find ourselves swept through the doors in a tidal wave of saffron robed, bell ringing , shaven headed humanity.