I’m here! I’m at the airport, on my way …. in just over 12 hours I’ll be in India!
A night flight to Dubai so should get some sleep. Check in went without a hitch, security fine, boarding fine, now sitting comfortably in my aisle seat with extra leg room – great, buckled up, ready for take off …. here we go 🙂
Refreshments, dinner, more refreshments all served and cleared away, cabin lights dimmed so passengers can sleep. Sleeping was my plan but I am just TOOOOO excited. Great movies to watch, music to listen to, box sets of whole comedy series’ and the best of all, the flight path, all 6000 km of it, of this Boeing 777, and loads of technical stuff, size of aircraft, cruising speed, outside temperature, distance from ground, distance from departure, distance to destination; aill available here, on a screen fixed to the back of the seat in front of me. I’m like a kid flicking through all available options … and back again 🙂 Then I’m looking at the map again and I see Baghdad and Basra on the screen, not sure if it’s because I’m tired (now 1.40 a.m. – 5.40 a.m. local time) or that I’m going to be away from my Boys for the next month, but I suddenly feel sad, Thinking of all the young men and women 34,000 ft below me so far away from home and the Mums back home lying in their beds praying for the safety of their Sons and Daughters, I too offer a silent prayer. I ponder on all the familiar names of the cities below and contemplate the fine line between war and peace, how a border can have so much impact on peoples lives.
I ‘m flicking through the screens again, where I can see tail winds, head winds, air speed; information that not so long ago, even the pilot and flight engineer wouldn’t have had access to let alone a passenger, ALL passengers! All 500 of us, looking round the cabin, I wonder where they’re all going, where have they been, what’s their story? Are any of them as excited and terrified as I am?
All this available data, gets me thinking about my Dad, a British Airways flight engineer for his working life, what would he make of all this? I then have a smile to myself, he would not have been impressed that I was flying with another airline. He was BA through and through and believed they were THE best airline and would not have a word said against them, even when they acted so badly in taking Concorde out of service and behaving like a spoiled child in not letting Virgin take over her running.
I’m thinking about how passionate I am about my own company how much I love my job and how lucky I am in the people I work with, so many real friends, and I offer another silent prayer … of Thanks 🙂
Sleep obviously overtook me as we are now starting our 15 minute decent into Dubai. A four hour stop over here and then the final leg of this part of the journey, a 3 hour flight into Mumbai…
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Mumbai, where the local time is 2.30 p.m. and the temperature is 41 degrees. We hope you’ve had a pleasant flight and wish you a pleasant stay in Mumbia”
Oh! My! God! I AM here!!!!
Entering the arrivals hall I am struck by that hot smell, you know, the one that hits you (if you’ve been lucky enough to fly to hot countries) when you step off the plane. The decor however, I was not prepared for …. It reminded me of my Granny’s house, dark rich colours, brocade pictures, musty, richly patterned carpets, all that would probably have been the look 50 or more years ago, but today, November 2, 2013, as I stepped into this new world made me think of “Days of the Raj” 🙂 with huge overhead fans replacing the punkah-wallahs, lazily moving the hot humid air efficiently around the terminal.
I joined the orderly queue (the first of only two I would experience in the next month, the second one would be immigration on my way back :)). At the front of the queue I handed over my Passport which was scrutinised for some five minutes then robustly stamped by the surly immigration guy and shoved back at me, walking through the barrier, putting my Passport away in my bag another surly immigration guy grunted at me with his hand out, quizzically I looked at him with my heart in my mouth, was something wrong? He grunted at me again, pointing to my passport, retrieving it from my bag I handed it to him. Now, remember he has just watched his colleague check and stamp it …. he then gives it the same scrutiny as the first guy, after several minutes squiggles on the card inserted by “guy one” and hands it back to me, not sure what happened there but was through immigration and putting my Passport away once more, when! yes! you’e guessed it, yet another official wanted to review “guy two’s” squiggle!! Did they not trust each other’s judgement or was it job creation? whichever it was having a very negative effect on my excited mood. Minutes later after flipping from the photos in my Passport and on my Visa and checking my face and back to the Passport I got a third squiggle and the ushered through. In case I didn’t explain this was all in the distance of about six paces. Anyways, I was officially IN INDIA! with a joyful, happy welcome from Indian Immigration 😉
I was then given a genuine welcomed by Amajit, my guide and Vejay, my driver and we headed out into the Saturday afternoon traffic of a crazy, chaotic Mumbai.
3 km and an hour later arrived (shell shocked!) at what was going to be home for the next few weeks.
Lulled into a false sense of security here – at 5 p.m. after a quick shower and change, ventured out – not too bad eh?
This was the reality of Monday morning!!
So my first day was coming to a close. After nearly 30 hours without sleep, excitement I haven’t felt since I knew Santa brought me presents, the fear of cockroaches and mossies ravishing me during the night didn’t seem all that important, with rape alarm securely fitted to door, mosquito net in place (although hostel staff who helped me fit it assured me I wouldn’t need it. I was having none of it … Lights off, fan on, nite nite …
