We arrived. It’s 2:59am and we’re sitting at Mumbai airport’s domestic departures waiting for our flight to Jodhpur via Deli at 6:30am. We’re listening to instrumental Christmas carols. I’m sticky and there’s a chatter sitting next to me, who I am trying to avoid. He’s waiting for me to look in his direction so he can talk. I’m a little too sleep deprived to be interested in the prospects of a corn-on-the-cob business and how profitable it may be. I’m also not about to buy fresh juice- I’m bottled all the way, baby.
Apparently, he doesn’t need me to look in his direction.
I think he’s spent a few too many holidays in Goa. He asked if I knew what was in Delhi. He can’t imagine much happens there. Do I know? I contemplated my answer and instead of saying things along the lines of it being the capital city and a few lines about ancient history, I realized he may not even know the word history, so, instead, I said that I didn’t know because I haven’t been there.
Anyway, we survived Hitler and her crew. Her crew was fine, but she wasn’t quite so fine. A closet convent principal from the dark ages, I suspect. The best way to cope in such situations is simply to obey. One poor soul went to the loo before the plane had come to a complete standstill and she was loud-speakered out enough times for the entire rear end of the plane to stare her down. She remained in the loo until the plane stopped, people jumped up and she could blend in again.
We had to be careful not to be spotted while we packed our bags with as much bottled water and fruit juice as we’d managed to acquire during the flight. Not to mention the leftover wine.
Regardless, we’re here. It’s 26 degrees outside. I’m starting to spin. 12 hours, roughly, to our final destination. Luckily, I haven’t quite reached the temperamental stage.
…It’s 11am. I’ve been awake for far too long. We’re in Delhi and they don’t let you out the airport, so we’re stuck on more airport seats counting down hours until our last flight. Delhi is opaque. The air is hard to breathe too, but that may be because it doesn’t seem to be only air. It’s brown outside.
I like the fact that India, unlike China, has a queuing system. It’s also nice not to have green phlegm land on my shoe in the departure hall. I think I may like India when I’m eventually allowed out of an airport.
…which isn’t anytime soon- our last flight just got delayed. This is traumatic news.
...We eventually left Delhi around 4pm (slightly humourlessly) and landed in Jodhpur an hour later.
Thank heavens the guesthouse owner was still there to meet us.
We’re staying near the clock tower in the Old City. It’s beautiful. It’s dusty and bustling and colourful. People, scooters and auto rickshaws everywhere. People move for cars and cars move for cows. It’d be good to be a cow in this country.
We had a brief scout around the Sadar market closest to where we’re staying. Completely up my alley!