1271 kilometers [according to the India map in our room at the Boys' Home]. That is the distance from Surat to Bangalore. It equates to approximately 790 miles, which is roughly a hundred miles more than the distance from Memphis to Orlando. That's a drive that can be completed in less than a day in the US or anywhere in Europe, where there are good motorways and interstates. But not in India. Traveling can never be that easy here. Instead, I had to take first a train, then a [delayed] flight, and then a bus and auto to traverse the distance.
First we had to get up at 4 to catch our train at 5.25. I got to sleep for some time, but because that train reaches Bombay around 9.30, many people use it to commute into the city for work, so the compartments started getting crowded around 7.45, and there wasn't enough space to lie down any longer.*
Once we reached Andheri, we had to catch an auto to my great-aunt's house, which was also a bit of an adventure. It took me about 15 minutes - and a few failed attempts on her part to catch an auto - to be finally convince her that we had to wait in line like everyone else. Even while we were waiting, she kept trying to jump the queue and get random rogue rickshaw drivers to take us to her house.
I had a nice hot bath and a cup of tea with my aunt and then it was off to meet our dear lost boy Uday for lunch and drinks. At a swanky 5-star hotel, no less. Gotta love those corporate expense accounts. We had a few drinks, a bit to eat, and caught up over the last few months. We paid the bill and were walking out of the hotel when I got a message from the airline that my flight was delayed by an hour. Back to the bar. A few drinks later, we stumbled out and walked to the airport. I checked in and made it through security check in all of 10 minutes and stood at the gate staring all around me wondering why there were no televisions showing the Sri Lanka - New Zealand semifinal match. Then I spied a food court of sorts. Up the stairs, the purchase of a bottle of water [let us never forget that hydration is sexy], and a seat next to some random guy to watch the match. He turned out to be a 50-something Indian raised in Ajmer who then lived in Kenya and now resides in San Francisco. I said my goodbye, told him to cheer on Sri Lanka, and sauntered down to my gate to board. Except, oh yeah, flight was delayed another half an hour. Back up the steps to watch a few more overs.
I slept nicely on the flight [Jack Daniels in the middle of the afternoon tends to have that effect], but woke up while we were circling around Bangalore -- we had to wait to land because of heavy air traffic. Of course. We finally landed, I got my bag, and found a shuttle that was going to Mysore Road. So after all that, it was nearly 8 by the time we left the airport. Not an ideal time to travel anywhere in this city, but especially not from one end to the other. I hit Mysore Road around 9.40, walked to the nearest bus stop, managed to convince an auto driver to drop me for the meter price, and set foot in my house at 10pm, approximately 17.5 hours after leaving my aunt's house in Surat.
17.5 hours. Always an adventure.
xx
*one thing I have to commend Bombay travelers on. Men will always get up to give a lady a seat, regardless of whether or not it is a designated ladies' seat. And they'll beat up the men who don't get up. I like men who respect women. Thumbs-up, Bombay. Maybe you can teach these Bangalore men a thing or two.
First we had to get up at 4 to catch our train at 5.25. I got to sleep for some time, but because that train reaches Bombay around 9.30, many people use it to commute into the city for work, so the compartments started getting crowded around 7.45, and there wasn't enough space to lie down any longer.*
Once we reached Andheri, we had to catch an auto to my great-aunt's house, which was also a bit of an adventure. It took me about 15 minutes - and a few failed attempts on her part to catch an auto - to be finally convince her that we had to wait in line like everyone else. Even while we were waiting, she kept trying to jump the queue and get random rogue rickshaw drivers to take us to her house.
I had a nice hot bath and a cup of tea with my aunt and then it was off to meet our dear lost boy Uday for lunch and drinks. At a swanky 5-star hotel, no less. Gotta love those corporate expense accounts. We had a few drinks, a bit to eat, and caught up over the last few months. We paid the bill and were walking out of the hotel when I got a message from the airline that my flight was delayed by an hour. Back to the bar. A few drinks later, we stumbled out and walked to the airport. I checked in and made it through security check in all of 10 minutes and stood at the gate staring all around me wondering why there were no televisions showing the Sri Lanka - New Zealand semifinal match. Then I spied a food court of sorts. Up the stairs, the purchase of a bottle of water [let us never forget that hydration is sexy], and a seat next to some random guy to watch the match. He turned out to be a 50-something Indian raised in Ajmer who then lived in Kenya and now resides in San Francisco. I said my goodbye, told him to cheer on Sri Lanka, and sauntered down to my gate to board. Except, oh yeah, flight was delayed another half an hour. Back up the steps to watch a few more overs.
I slept nicely on the flight [Jack Daniels in the middle of the afternoon tends to have that effect], but woke up while we were circling around Bangalore -- we had to wait to land because of heavy air traffic. Of course. We finally landed, I got my bag, and found a shuttle that was going to Mysore Road. So after all that, it was nearly 8 by the time we left the airport. Not an ideal time to travel anywhere in this city, but especially not from one end to the other. I hit Mysore Road around 9.40, walked to the nearest bus stop, managed to convince an auto driver to drop me for the meter price, and set foot in my house at 10pm, approximately 17.5 hours after leaving my aunt's house in Surat.
17.5 hours. Always an adventure.
xx
*one thing I have to commend Bombay travelers on. Men will always get up to give a lady a seat, regardless of whether or not it is a designated ladies' seat. And they'll beat up the men who don't get up. I like men who respect women. Thumbs-up, Bombay. Maybe you can teach these Bangalore men a thing or two.
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