Our last two days in Oahu were relatively unremarkable, as I was in meetings and Max was extremely busy working on her poolside tan whilst contributing to the local pineapple industry by ordering up various tropical libations. Always the multi-tasker.
Our group dinner Saturday was right next door to our hotel and it was great for us to get together socially with the wonderful friends we've made thru the years with the Akzo group. The bartender couldn't serve Max's drink until she returned from the restroom due to what he called a "Stupid Hawaiian Law", but made up for it by pointing to a nearby female and asking with a wink "That's your wife, right?" I acknowledged, and he served.
The next night's dinner, including the transportation, was one of the best we've ever had, but Max will tell you all about it in the next post.
The next morning, we're off to the airport in a brand new Lexus taxi, unlike the Beverly Hillbillies 70's boat held together with baling wire that we rode in 6 days earlier on our arrival. Once we got on the highway, the tremendous gusts of wind, combined with our increased speed caused the yellow "TAXI" sign on the roof to fly off and start flailing the Lexus at the end of its electrical cord. The initial "BANG!" nearly caused us to perform (or possibly reperform, I can't remember) one of our AM ablutions. The driver calmly pulled over, turned to us and said "Wind", thus winninig, with one simple word, the Understatement of the Year Award.
At the airport we line up with 10,000 Asians to check in, then walk 12 miles to our gate, #3,879B. About 16 miles into our 22 mile walk, we're not seeing refreshments of any sort, including, most importantly, our 1st coffee of the day. You can only imagine our relief when we finally get to our gate (#8,649C) and find a woman selling Oscar Meyer Dogs and bottles of Yoo-Hoo from a cart at 7AM.
Inside the gate area, we're two slices of white bread in an Oriental Bakery. We snag 2 middle seats with no one in the 2 seats next to us in the wide body, so the 9 hour flight was as comfortable as you could expect. And funny.
When I booked this flight, I had requested a "Special Meal", in this case I had chosen "Special Asian Meal" from the list offered. I just figured it was an Asian airline and they probably did better at Kung Fu Chicken than Corn Dog a la King, or whatever western food they may choose to tackle.
Sure enough, a lovely Asian flight attendant comes to us 20 minutes into the flight and asks us if we had ordered a "Special Asian Meal" We certainly did, I respond. We are then served our "SAM" 20 minutes before everyone else. We eagerly wait to see what kind of garbage Those Who Had Not Prepared in Advance would be served. They got exactly the same meal. This is so Asian. They hate to say "No". They hate to admit they really don't know the whereabouts of whatever you ask directions to and they hate to deny you your "Special Request".
The layover in Tokyo (Narita) brought back special memories from 1989. All the food offered for sale is wrapped in special paper, just in case you're buying it as a present (see picture above), and while you are standing at a urinal, a cleaning woman strolls in and puts her tools away in an adjacent closet.
Our next flight was to Taipei and the atmosphere became more boisterous as the crowd changes from predominantly Japanese to Chinese. We also have no empty seats beside us, although the flight is shorter.
We noticed that in Asian terminals, you have to go thru security as you leave the plane as well as B4 you get on the plane. In Narita, we got off the plane, went through security and walked around a tight circle to get back on the plane, just in case we had spent our time on the previous flight manufacturing rocket launched grenades. But our amusement at this security would be nothing compared to future security practices in India and Morocco.
We expect better conditions with the Cathay Pacific flight, based on our '89 experiences, but we're disappointed. The seats were tight, the temperature high and the BO from the guy next to Max was pungent. Fortunately, it was just a six hour sprint to Delhi.
By the time we arrive in New Delhi, we have been up for over 30 hours. Our bags had arrived B4 us, but they didn't tell us that until we had patiently watched everyone else collect their luggage and had asked where we should register our lost luggage claim. Our Travel Agent representative, Pranesh, greets us with his driver. It is 3AM and the streets are dark and abandoned, except for the street sleepers. After our driver runs a couple of red lights, Pranesh admonishes him and he begins stopping at red lights as other traffic sails on through. You can tell this is killing him.
By 3:30 we're at The Imperial and we wait in the lobby sitting room while Pranesh checks us in.
The Imperial was built in the 1930's when New Delhi was largely built by the English and is simply fabulous. Room 236 is just beautiful (see above photo). It's large, the attention to detail is amazing. It's about the size of two regular hotel rooms, with a king size bed, 36" flat screen TV, large desk, sofa, 2 chairs, coffee table, large cabinet for the bar, coffee, and refridgerator, end tables for the couch, night tables beside the bed, large armoir for clothes, a large well-equipped luxurious bathoom. Amenities up the yazoo.
We order up a 4AM club sandwich and have a Johnny Walker closer. We're in bed by 5AM. We've been up for 34 hours. And it's my 60th birthday.
No comments:
Post a Comment