Leaving, for me, was the hardest thing. I was excited about my business trip to India, but when the actual day came…out came the mom tears. Though I was looking forward to actually maybe sleeping on the plane, read a book, or just be alone for a few minutes without having to fulfill a child’s or husband’s need – I didn’t realize how much I was going to miss them.
Peanut was sweet enough to give me a picture of a princess and a “map” that she drew so that I wouldn’t get lost. (sniff, sniff)
My journey got off to an interesting start.
Taxi driver looked like Slash. The smell of mary jane about knocked me over as the door was opened and Slash blasting Pink Floyd en route to the airport.
That’s all I’ll say about that.
Ten hours later, my flight lands in Frankfurt with enough time to grab sausages and pretzels for a quick lunch.
Though I was fully engrossed with my book during that flight to Frankfurt, the Italian man sitting across from me was providing plenty of entertainment. From sticking his crotch in my face (to reach the overhead bin) to trying to buy duty free Marlboros (an easy task, I’m sure, but in this instance, it was far from easy – “I would like to use my miles to pay for this.” “Sir, I also need a credit card number just in case you don’t have enough miles.” “But, I want to use my miles.” “Yes, sir, but in the event you don’t have enough miles, I need to be able to charge your card.” “Huh. Can you check my miles on board?” “No, sir, we cannot do that while we are in the air.” He finally agrees, when the receipt is ready to be signed…”oh, wait, that’s my wife’s card.”) to all the nasal clearing sounds he produced for the 10 hour flight. Yeah.
Before I know it, I’m loading up on bottled water, and boarding yet another flight to Mumbai.
With the book almost finished, we start our descent into Mumbai at 1.00a local time. The line at passport control is just like the line at Fry’s – 1 main line with a coordinator of sorts that directs you to the next available officer – coincidence? I,then, literally push and shove my way through at the baggage carousel. Another x-ray scan of the luggage, one last document to give to customs and off to find the hired car.
Pune is about 100 miles from Mumbai and takes 2.5 hours with no traffic. I was expecting the driving to be crazy, but I was not expecting people to run red lights (stop signs, included) like they didn’t exist, passing on both the left and the right, oy. I just had to close my eyes and hope the that dramamine was enough to knock me out so I didn’t have to witness any of this.
After a few days of work, (and an elephant sighting in the streets of Pune) I started the journey home, 6pm Pune time. I remembered to pop 2 dramamine, so after about 30 minutes in the car, I was out. Jet lag helped, too. I woke about 4.5 hours later in Mumbai, minutes away from the airport. I checked in at 10p for a 3.15am flight. Yes, 3.15a. Nine hours later, here I am, in my “executive” room at a hotel in Frankfurt. The upside, free internet access and free minibar. Downside, it’s not the Westin.