1990, we just arrived in India the night before, stayed in the tourist camp got a rickshaw to kashmiri gate bus station delhi.Stepping into the station was an assault on every fiber of of my body, the mass of people colour smells, noise, every one seemed to be either moving or talking so fast,. we wanted to get a bus heading for a place called Almora, foot hills of himalayas, we were bombarded with pepole selling everything chi, pots and pans tablas(drums) clothes, statues, children danced around us, asking for rupiess, the poor and sick many of them lived at the station and all hoped that we might give them some money, There was no- where to put our rucksacks down, the ground was concrete, water and mess everywhere.We went from one place to another, looking, for a bus stand for Almora, there seemed so many stands, ticket touts trying to get you to go to where they are selling there tickets for, giving wrong information for fun!. We were hot, tired, feeling lost,Then from nowhere, a kindly faced, english speaking, grey haired indian gentleman appeared, asked if he could be of help, took us to the Almora stand, wished us good day (namasta) and left...