Hi Bibs and fellow book lovers, It has been quite sometime that I had actually found some time out of the schedule that has left me pressing for time... and to be absolutely honest I had been going through some bad patch…. (hmmm … sounds familiar doesn’t it? : experts in cricket attribute the failures of our heroes’ to perform well and blame it on such Bad Patch)… I had written a small travelogue for the family and friends in my country about the wonderful experience of flying for the first time and thought that you might like it as well:
I boarded an aircraft for the first time in my life and it was really some mind-blowing experience watching the landscape like a contour map right below... The flight was from Kolkata to Delhi in a Jet aircraft. The landscape of Kolkata with lights (it was 8:45 in the evening) was amazing. Dotted lights of cars and street lights looked very much like the army of ants marching through the network of paths that crosses and formed a mesh… I was staring intently out of the window like a school kid of four watching as the view of his parents receded on the bus stop when the school bus gathered speed. I felt a pang of grief, which was interrupted by the singsong voice of an airhostess who was offering some sort of handkerchief roll to the passengers with a pair of tongs. Unsure about what to do I looked at my adjacent passenger and he was unrolling the hanky and looked pretty sure about his surroundings… "Cold towel Sir" insisted the airhostess and without further ado I took one. As if quite confident, I unrolled it, all the while watching the person wipe his hands and face with it… I proceeded t do the same making sure I finish after him and do as he does… I felt silly. But it was too late and I had nobody to turn to for help… The person next to me folded the towel and pushed some switch above his head. A small light lit up and I hear a faint ring somewhere in the back. As if by magic an airhostess arrived and switched off the light … this did not seem to bother the fellow passenger and he proceeded to order some fruit juice… It suddenly became clear…the switch was some form of a calling bell and the light indicated who pressed it… Fancy gadgets I wondered and proceeded to look out the window…
Much of that flight was then uneventful, except for the fact that I did… what my fellow passenger did; making sure that I do not arouse the suspicion that I was a first time flier.… Oh yes I did not call the airhostesses once during my flight while my fellow passenger seemed to have taken up an oath to not let the pretty girls off the hook for a moment. Fruit juice, water, blanket, pillow, magazine, water, fruit juice… and he was constantly on to something… Antd then there was this "hot towels" and another bout of "cold towel" game…
After almost four hours (one hour behind the scheduled arrival time as there was no clearance) I landed in Delhi… A bus awaited the disembarking passengers and took us all to the Baggage collecting area of the Indira Gandhi International Airport Domestic terminal. Then after another wait for about half an hour I finally collected my luggage and stepped out of the airport gates… Delhi. My first visit to the capital.
Delhi had lived up to its reputation of being the most corrupt place in India other than the fact that it was also the capital... I finally got out of the airport to meet this Sikh swindler (could you believe it? and we joke about them on their lack of intelligence!!) ... He was about to mug me when I realized something was utterly wrong and this person was no prepaid taxi driver as he had claimed. I managed to get hold a cop at the airport premises and the cab driver (or whatever he was) just vanished in no time. Then there was this genuine prepaid taxi driver who did not know where he was supposed to take me... again a cop came to my rescue and guided me to the USI residency (the place that was booked for my overnight stay). The taxi driver bragged for some tip (on a prepaid taxi!) and it was only when I gave him some twenty bucks that he finally let go of the last of my luggage!
The stay at the hotel was good... and then they had a complimentary drop at the international terminal of the Airport... then on, it was a piece of cake.... After all domestic flights teach you everything about aeroplanes and you can rest assured that I had a good teacher in my fellow passenger….
Checking in took almost an hour as there was this high alert for the recent sub-way bombings in UK and on top of that some senseless Delhi airport personnel tore off my through check-in tag from my luggage. I was dismayed when I got to know that my coveted window seat was no more available. I quarrelled about it and finally sympathetic personnel upgraded my economy class seat to a flat-bed one. I was not sure what that meant though but I was satisfied with the words… "We are sorry sir, I will upgrade your seat to a flat-bed one"… I felt victorious. The whole process of immigration check and finally boarding the plane took more than 2 hours. It was then to my utter surprise and joy, I understood what a flat-bed seat meant. The flat-bed was a single seat with a small stool to rest your feet… with a personal folding table, your very own video screen and your very own reading light… There were some fancy switches and after some investigation and help from the airhostess I realized that the seat could be aligned to meet the stool and form a full-length bed! I could want nothing more… after such tiring journey last night and arriving to the airport at 6:30 in the morning all that I could possibly think of was a sleep… Before the British Airways flight was even fifteen minutes into its flight I was sound asleep under a very comfortable blanket and a soft pillow.
I rose with a start realizing that a British airhostess was calling me. I woke and groggily saw that breakfast was being served… I looked at my watch and realized that it was 10:30 and I have slept for over two hours. I was ver unsure about what t take and finally decided upon a full English breakfast with Ham and scrambled eggs served with freshly baked loaves and butter. Having finished the breakfast within minutes (I was really hungry for I had no opportunity to have any food in the morning). Coffee was served and having finished that too I felt the need for a wash room. I proceeded towards one and it was only then that I had a view through a window… and I let out a gasp! The landscape below was incredible…I realized that we were perhaps flying over Sindh for the landscape matched very much like the one I had seen so many a times in the Atlas. The snow-capped mountains in Pakistan and Afghanistan, with channels of rivers flowing between them like the strings, looked more like some geography drawings from up above. It was amazing.... Finally I found a wash closet … The aeroplane wash closets are great (I mean to say that they are very efficiently and cleverly designed but a bit claustrophobic). I had some trouble finding the right kind of tissue paper for the right job…
I had champagne for the first time in my life. It was wonderful... (they serve that on BA but I am not so sure about AI) I had three glasses before I felt I was becoming tipsy and out of bounds... with complimentary drinks... it is always a problem with people like me :-) you can never have enough.... ;-)
My flat-bed seat allowed me to sleep for about 4 hours which had definitely put me in the right groove...(I hardly had any jet lag and adjusted effortlessly into the different time zone). All thanks to the stu**d personnel at the Delhi airport who accidentally tore off my check-in luggage tag and as a result I had the upgrade into the flat bet from a normal window seat (chuckle).
Finally, I landed in Heathrow… on the land where the sun never used to set… I collected my luggage from the baggage collection conveyer and proceeded for the clearance… The immigration was very quick and before I realized what was happening I was cleared and I was out of the airport. It was almost 1:40 p.m. GMT and I felt relived to have arrived to this country at last after such a wonderful experience of riding the plane for the first time (second if you consider the break at Delhi).
Bristol, the city of my destination, is a nice small town in the Avon district of UK (South-South-East of London). The closeness to the sea attributes to the moderate climate of this place... There is a city centre with a memorial like the martyr memorial in Delhi, where people place poppies and orchids on national holidays to salute the brave soldiers who died fighting to subjugate the other nations (sic). There is a central bus station named Marlborough (like the Dharmotollah but much too small and much too sparkling in the appearance and cleanliness). This was where I disembarked first on Bristol after a 3-hour bus journey from Heathrow (I had been sleeping a good 2 hours on that journey).
There are a lot of pubs in the city centre and some of them are pretty interesting (now dont jump to conclusions... I have only heard). Then there is a railway station by the name Templemeads that offer train links to various parts of London and UK. The Heathrow has a train station too that links Bristol via Paddington St. On an average each of the houses (a maximum of three storeys high, ours is a two storey one) has a lawn… and a backyard the size of a badminton court. The one we have has been cared in ages and now tall grasses adorn the backyard adding to the misery of having moths and other such birds (sic) flying in the house at night.
Immigrants drive most of the cabs here and an Iraqi drove the one, which I took from the bus stop. He was a very friendly guy in about 40s and was very generous in offering me a lighter as a gift when I asked for a light. He was genuinely impressed at the statement that I was on a company deputation from India and that I have a Master's degree in Computer Science at such a (according to him) "tender age" (lol). He was kind enough to offer me some good advice on how to get about living in the UK and where all I could get good bargains. He even advised me to get a bicycle and use it as transportation to and from the office. He was all praises for the Indian Mango pickle and how his lunch is incomplete without it! And the spices that make his curry mouth-watering...
I had reached my house (the one I would share with 3 others) at about 5:30 in the evening and had to wait outside for everyone was at the office (I arrived on a weekday). Finally, at around 6:15 people came back and I moved into the warmth of the house.
