December 30
Finally here. Usual hassle at the airport. At least an hour at the baggage pickup waiting while suitcases big enough to smuggle a small pony or at least a donkey go by. One guy beside me keeps stretching forward and lovingly caressing different bags. And I mean different. Everything from hard red plastic to sleek black wheelies. Wonder if he remembers what his bag looks like? Or would he just rather have someone else's? That grab your own bag off a carousel process is really hard on Indians, lots of nervous faces. Bet they would much rather line up and present a ticket stub to make sure no-one else grabs their item and makes a dash for it. Or maybe it's just the airport lottery we all play. Did my bag make it on to my flight or is it in Hyderabad?
Big change, Bangalore has carts now and a couple of dispirited porters offering to push them for people. The coolie-man business has been trashed in one swell foop. Airport is definitely getting more organized and easier to negotiate physically. It wouldn't feel like the same place at all if they were to break down and slap on a new coat of paint. I love landing in a major international airport that has all the amenities of Abbotsford. That Singapore airport is a city center in it's own right.
Psychically there is the same damn run around. Hotel guy tells me nothing less than 1100 Rs available. The government doesn't want them listing cheap crumby places, it's all for the travelers own good. Grrrrr!! I don't want to pay more than 500 Rs. Take a taxi, visit three hotels down near the bus station. Get a 200 Rs room for only 712 Rs. Tired of running around and if I don't take something soon I'm going to start feeling guilty about not giving the taxi guy a bigger tip. Enough!
Such a relief to be back on my own timetable. I start decompressing. A big glass of Irish whiskey with enough water to make it taste sweet. Ah! Lovely!
Break open that big punishing heavy bag. Haul out the smaller one on top. Four bags now instead of three but at least I can finally lift each of them. Stash the boots, have a feeling they will be handy in Kashmir and haul out my sandals. Find my nightgown instead of the slip I've been sleeping in. No more air conditioning, ceiling fan. Hand held bidet hose instead of toilet paper. Wish I could have one of those at home. The room boy has sweet smile and isn't worried about waiting till tomorrow to get his tip. It's the little things make the difference.
One more leg. Bus to Puttaparthi tomorrow. I think there's a Super Deluxe with air suspension around ten.
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