Our last four days...
I realise that I must be losing my readership due to the slackness of my blog but please hold in there as I am trying very hard to get it up to date.
After Rajasthan we headed to Puskhar for a much needed rest and stayed in 3 star luxury not as good at 5 star but not as bad as the minus 5 stars that we had been staying at. Enticed by the garden and the pool we dug into our pockets and decided to Splurge a little, not realising the dangerously low temperatures that Pushkar suffers at night and is thus retained in the pool water we gleefully dived in only to realise that our blood had stopped flowing and our hearts beating for a minute until we madly splashed out vowing to get in again tomorrow needless to say it never happened.
Our last stop before Greg got of the mad cattle train that is India was Delhi and what an end it was...Delhi is the most uninspiring city in India hotly competing with Chennai for its level of dullness, but to add insult to injury it is also suffering a major shortage in accommodation (a word Greg kept insisting on using while Indians stared blankly at us and I had to hastily follow on with 'room'...) and room would not really be the description I would use for the only place that we found we to stay in, cell or prison cell would be more adequate but then at one point I considered getting arrested as I was sure prison would actually be more comfortable.
After four days of rolling around Delhi trying to find anything of interest to do, visiting Embassy's buying stuff for my Europe trip and generally ranting about everything from the total lack of decent hotels, the crap expensive food, the cheating auto drivers, our blessed tummy's which insisted on coming out of our bums every hour or so (Delhi belly), the colds we were both suffering and the looming fact that we would soon be leaving each other, it was with relief that we finally pulled up to the international airport to check me in for my flight at 5am. To discover that only passengers are allowed into the doors of the airport as is strictly enforced by military types who have guns. At this point all hell broke loose both Greg and I were crying, I was pleading with the guard and ranting loudly about how much I hated India all this amongst trying to hug and kiss Greg within an inch of himself....what a parade no wonder Indians thing foreigners are mad. After regretfully and tearfully leaving Greg I went right through to customs crying my eyes out much to the interest and sympathy of the airport staff who treaded lightly and let me push into all the queues.
My flight over was uneventful, true to Indian style the staff seated us and then completely disappeared until meals were due and then vanished again as soon as rubbish was collected, I was in the last row with a spare seat next to me and a young Indian couple who I am sure were drugged as they were comatose from the minute we took off to till the last person stepped of the plane, not even stirring for food or the bathroom, why haven't I been granted the wonderful Indian trait of being able to sleep anytime anywhere......
I landed at Heathrow 8hrs later, having finished the first and second Harry Porter books, to be greeted by rain and a minor heart attack when I exchanged $200 US and only received £50 back. In my last session of uni I had a particularly loopy lecturer (the one that swayed for anyone I bored with the stories) who had been to India and sage-like had told me that when you get to India you areinitiallyy overwhelmed by the dirt andfilthh but are more overwhelmed when you return to thesterilee environments of the west - well give me sterile anyday (that does sound a bit strange on rereading..) I joyously walked through the airportmarvelingg at the fact that there was no rubbish anywhere, that men weren't pissing in the corners, that signs actually directed you in the right direction, and the total absence of cows was comforting. I was greeted by beautiful Aileen who now had short hair by the way and given my first tour of London, while I grinned from ear to ear about the fact that everyone stayed in their lanes, I didn't hear one beep and there were actual footpaths and not an open sewer to be seen.
But my heart was a little heavy as I pictured poor Greg setting of on his 2 year journey back home with all his changes and transfers.....but now that I have grown and matured from my India experience I realise that cheap flights are cheap for a reason...
After Rajasthan we headed to Puskhar for a much needed rest and stayed in 3 star luxury not as good at 5 star but not as bad as the minus 5 stars that we had been staying at. Enticed by the garden and the pool we dug into our pockets and decided to Splurge a little, not realising the dangerously low temperatures that Pushkar suffers at night and is thus retained in the pool water we gleefully dived in only to realise that our blood had stopped flowing and our hearts beating for a minute until we madly splashed out vowing to get in again tomorrow needless to say it never happened.
Our last stop before Greg got of the mad cattle train that is India was Delhi and what an end it was...Delhi is the most uninspiring city in India hotly competing with Chennai for its level of dullness, but to add insult to injury it is also suffering a major shortage in accommodation (a word Greg kept insisting on using while Indians stared blankly at us and I had to hastily follow on with 'room'...) and room would not really be the description I would use for the only place that we found we to stay in, cell or prison cell would be more adequate but then at one point I considered getting arrested as I was sure prison would actually be more comfortable.
After four days of rolling around Delhi trying to find anything of interest to do, visiting Embassy's buying stuff for my Europe trip and generally ranting about everything from the total lack of decent hotels, the crap expensive food, the cheating auto drivers, our blessed tummy's which insisted on coming out of our bums every hour or so (Delhi belly), the colds we were both suffering and the looming fact that we would soon be leaving each other, it was with relief that we finally pulled up to the international airport to check me in for my flight at 5am. To discover that only passengers are allowed into the doors of the airport as is strictly enforced by military types who have guns. At this point all hell broke loose both Greg and I were crying, I was pleading with the guard and ranting loudly about how much I hated India all this amongst trying to hug and kiss Greg within an inch of himself....what a parade no wonder Indians thing foreigners are mad. After regretfully and tearfully leaving Greg I went right through to customs crying my eyes out much to the interest and sympathy of the airport staff who treaded lightly and let me push into all the queues.
My flight over was uneventful, true to Indian style the staff seated us and then completely disappeared until meals were due and then vanished again as soon as rubbish was collected, I was in the last row with a spare seat next to me and a young Indian couple who I am sure were drugged as they were comatose from the minute we took off to till the last person stepped of the plane, not even stirring for food or the bathroom, why haven't I been granted the wonderful Indian trait of being able to sleep anytime anywhere......
I landed at Heathrow 8hrs later, having finished the first and second Harry Porter books, to be greeted by rain and a minor heart attack when I exchanged $200 US and only received £50 back. In my last session of uni I had a particularly loopy lecturer (the one that swayed for anyone I bored with the stories) who had been to India and sage-like had told me that when you get to India you areinitiallyy overwhelmed by the dirt andfilthh but are more overwhelmed when you return to thesterilee environments of the west - well give me sterile anyday (that does sound a bit strange on rereading..) I joyously walked through the airportmarvelingg at the fact that there was no rubbish anywhere, that men weren't pissing in the corners, that signs actually directed you in the right direction, and the total absence of cows was comforting. I was greeted by beautiful Aileen who now had short hair by the way and given my first tour of London, while I grinned from ear to ear about the fact that everyone stayed in their lanes, I didn't hear one beep and there were actual footpaths and not an open sewer to be seen.
But my heart was a little heavy as I pictured poor Greg setting of on his 2 year journey back home with all his changes and transfers.....but now that I have grown and matured from my India experience I realise that cheap flights are cheap for a reason...
posted by My Little Life at 6:50 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home