My Arrival To India
I am happy to say I have arrived safely, if eventfully to India. Nothing scary, just mother nature reminding us, again, who is in charge. My flight touched down in Delhi on time, 11:30p local time, and then four hours later I found my driver and headed to my hotel.
Delhi was encased in a very thick fog, and the visibility was so low that the pilot couldn't find the airport terminal building on his own. He called for a "Follow Me" car, and it couldn't find it either. Next came the tow truck, with the tow bar sufficent to pull our 400+ passernger 747, but without the KLM engineer required to hook up everything, we were stuck. Even towed, the plane was not allowed within striking range of the terminal, so all 400 of us had to be bussed in. We were the second to last plane to land before the airport shut down, so I'm not really complaining...
Comparatively speaking, immigration and baggage claim was easy and fast. Finding my driver, not so much. The international arrival hall is a madhouse-zoo-circus, pick your metaphor. With drivers with signs lined up four thick on either side of the exit corridor, and family and friends five thick at the end of it, it was impossible to find my name on a sheet of paper as I crept by with my luggage cart. I had been instructed to exit through door # 2 and find my driver, Mr Pal, there. My, what a silly idea that was. There were more people outside than inside, and not one of them was holding a sign. Fortunately phone calls in India are a breeze, and cheap, so I dialed the number given to me by the hotel and reached, um, the manager who was asleep and NOT at the airport. But he had the driver's cell number (he'd sent me the wrong number), and soon Mr Pal and his 12 words of English and my no words of Hindi were connected at door #1 (fewer people, and he had my sign).
Driving through the deserted Delhi streets in thick fog at four in the morning in the back seat of a tiny car with no seat belts and little Mr P who weighs 80 lbs less than me was an adventure of its own. If this had been my first time to India I might have been nervous. But sometimes you just have to trust. Which I did. And I arrived safely at my not-so-nice-super-grotty budget hotel and was greeted by the newly awoken somewhat cranky night manager, checked in, and sent to sort out the smell in my room. Ah, India!
I immediately resolved to leave Delhi as soon as posibble, and today I went to the tiny-bit-busy New Dehli train station and easily bought a train ticket to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, for 140 ruppees, about $3.50. It is good to return to places you've traveled, where you have a certain competence. But this place is seriously crazy. I know it probably has its own rythym and symmetry, but to me it looks like chaos. Very loud chaos at that, with the non-stop cacaphony of horns from everything with wheels.
My first day in India was tough. I attracted the local beggar child, before I had been to the ATM, so I had no cash, just in case I was inclined to give. I went for lunch, again before I had been to the ATM, so had to exit quickly before ordering to go find cash. Then my ATM card didn't work - it's a bit fussy - and I had to go back to the hotel to get my back-up ATM card and ponder what to do about the primary one. Then coming back from lunch some kids took up target practice, throwing rocks at my back as I walked in front of them (what the f_ _k?!?!??!).
So...how has your day been???
In spite of all that, I really am glad to be here. India is just shocking in the extreme at first. Just takes some getting used to. We will find our rythym, I'm sure. Now back to the hotel to deal with that smell again...!
Delhi was encased in a very thick fog, and the visibility was so low that the pilot couldn't find the airport terminal building on his own. He called for a "Follow Me" car, and it couldn't find it either. Next came the tow truck, with the tow bar sufficent to pull our 400+ passernger 747, but without the KLM engineer required to hook up everything, we were stuck. Even towed, the plane was not allowed within striking range of the terminal, so all 400 of us had to be bussed in. We were the second to last plane to land before the airport shut down, so I'm not really complaining...
Comparatively speaking, immigration and baggage claim was easy and fast. Finding my driver, not so much. The international arrival hall is a madhouse-zoo-circus, pick your metaphor. With drivers with signs lined up four thick on either side of the exit corridor, and family and friends five thick at the end of it, it was impossible to find my name on a sheet of paper as I crept by with my luggage cart. I had been instructed to exit through door # 2 and find my driver, Mr Pal, there. My, what a silly idea that was. There were more people outside than inside, and not one of them was holding a sign. Fortunately phone calls in India are a breeze, and cheap, so I dialed the number given to me by the hotel and reached, um, the manager who was asleep and NOT at the airport. But he had the driver's cell number (he'd sent me the wrong number), and soon Mr Pal and his 12 words of English and my no words of Hindi were connected at door #1 (fewer people, and he had my sign).
Driving through the deserted Delhi streets in thick fog at four in the morning in the back seat of a tiny car with no seat belts and little Mr P who weighs 80 lbs less than me was an adventure of its own. If this had been my first time to India I might have been nervous. But sometimes you just have to trust. Which I did. And I arrived safely at my not-so-nice-super-grotty budget hotel and was greeted by the newly awoken somewhat cranky night manager, checked in, and sent to sort out the smell in my room. Ah, India!
I immediately resolved to leave Delhi as soon as posibble, and today I went to the tiny-bit-busy New Dehli train station and easily bought a train ticket to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, for 140 ruppees, about $3.50. It is good to return to places you've traveled, where you have a certain competence. But this place is seriously crazy. I know it probably has its own rythym and symmetry, but to me it looks like chaos. Very loud chaos at that, with the non-stop cacaphony of horns from everything with wheels.
My first day in India was tough. I attracted the local beggar child, before I had been to the ATM, so I had no cash, just in case I was inclined to give. I went for lunch, again before I had been to the ATM, so had to exit quickly before ordering to go find cash. Then my ATM card didn't work - it's a bit fussy - and I had to go back to the hotel to get my back-up ATM card and ponder what to do about the primary one. Then coming back from lunch some kids took up target practice, throwing rocks at my back as I walked in front of them (what the f_ _k?!?!??!).
So...how has your day been???
In spite of all that, I really am glad to be here. India is just shocking in the extreme at first. Just takes some getting used to. We will find our rythym, I'm sure. Now back to the hotel to deal with that smell again...!
posted by No Day But Today | 6:22 AM
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