Bleached

Head out to the only cycle shop in India that knows what it is doing and miraculously manage to pick up a disc rotor, looks thick, weighs the same as the bike but it works and that along with a chunky thick tyre sets me back about 12 pound so thrilled to pieces.
Wander around Delhi in search of relics of the raj and the signs of the mutiny of 1857 that crippled Delhi and witnessed the deaths of 10's of thousands of Indians as the British wrecked vengeance on the citizens of Delhi for harbouring the mutineers. Probably too ambitious in my search as temperatures in the 40C and much has changed since 1857 but did find a church (locked), a crumbling Kashmiri gate and walked up to the Delhi ridge were the British layed siege to the city and found the British Memorial to the dead, now an exercise park, were I battle for space with the new breed of aggressively assertive Delhite's.
Pick up a shave and head shave near the old city for an original fee of 30 Rs (50 pence). All goes well til he accuses me of having unclean scalp which he decides unilaterally to clean up with the aid of some pasty stuff and a electronic vibrating disc, other modifications to my face and head are deemed necessary, and given the original cheap price it seemed best to let him loose with his assorted creams, pastes and tubes of face bleacher. Almost drew the line as he plucked away half my eyebrows with a devilishly painful plucking technique using cotton, his teeth and violent arm swinging. Bald, bleached; to the colour of an exhumed corpse; and eyebrowless I am then exposed to a bit of barbarous barber extortion as he demands 550 Rs for his administrations. I protest and throw 200 rupees in his face before pegging it into the thick swirl of people that is any street in Dehli.