-Well, it's 30.
The driver was satisfied and jumped into the vehicle with my backpack between my legs. It was nine o'clock at night in Delhi and the streets were crowded after a Saturday market. People returned home and it was impressive to see the infinite parade of bicycles, wheelbarrows, rickshaws and other cheap vehicles and suitable for loading the countless items for sale in this city.
Luckily I left an hour and a half in advance. The train to Ajmer, in Rajhastan, departed from the Old Delhi Station about five km. from where I was staying and the journey there was a challenge.
The rickshaw driver was a true phenomenon and was dodging all kinds of obstacles along the way; cows, wheelbarrows, people, lots of boxes, bicycles and human warmth in a street whose directions have lost their meaning once assaulted by an astronomical number of Hindus and Muslims at the same time. Sometimes we got stuck and it was usually due to some slope where you could see some guy carrying more than 100 kilos in a wheelbarrow. We had a couple of clashes with other rickshaws but without serious consequences.
