I cancelled the Nuclear Engineers and got on an aeroplane to Bombay. Then the adventure got going. Well, there had been an interesting bit at Heathrow when Mr Smith found he had left his bag at home. Luckily I had the passports and his wallet was in his pocket.
Mumbai airport is probably much as you would imagine an airport to be .... Relaxed, calm, efficient .....yeah .... Not exactly! Endless slow moving queues of thousands that, when you eventually get through, you discover are the wrong queue. Thousands of people policed by zaggressive soldiers who won't let you through to the next bit of hell because you don't have the right paperwork. Well, actually you did have the right paperwork but someone left it on the hall table in Kent! At this point I felt travelling on my own through India would not be a particularly dangerous or irresponsible thing to do. I might even not get sent back to the start of the line again like an impossible computer game.
Well, when I thought we were finally through and stepping onto our plane to Goa, I still got sent back because my handbag wasn't wearing a stamped security tag. It had been through security but I had to go all the way back to get a smudge on a tag, keeping the bus waiting and the aeroplane revving and, let me tell you, the Indians couldn't give a toss whether you miss your flight. We are pleased to say we made it.
Glen the Good collected us and were we pleased to see him!
Goa is delicious. It is the best holiday cocktail. Even the old git with no paperwork is enjoying himself.
Mumbai airport is probably much as you would imagine an airport to be .... Relaxed, calm, efficient .....yeah .... Not exactly! Endless slow moving queues of thousands that, when you eventually get through, you discover are the wrong queue. Thousands of people policed by zaggressive soldiers who won't let you through to the next bit of hell because you don't have the right paperwork. Well, actually you did have the right paperwork but someone left it on the hall table in Kent! At this point I felt travelling on my own through India would not be a particularly dangerous or irresponsible thing to do. I might even not get sent back to the start of the line again like an impossible computer game.
Well, when I thought we were finally through and stepping onto our plane to Goa, I still got sent back because my handbag wasn't wearing a stamped security tag. It had been through security but I had to go all the way back to get a smudge on a tag, keeping the bus waiting and the aeroplane revving and, let me tell you, the Indians couldn't give a toss whether you miss your flight. We are pleased to say we made it.
Glen the Good collected us and were we pleased to see him!
Goa is delicious. It is the best holiday cocktail. Even the old git with no paperwork is enjoying himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment