Sunday 6 May 2007

India: 973 Tucker: 1




I had been to the Taj back in '86, but was still amazed at its grandeur and perfection. This time, however, I managed something that rarely happens in India - I beat it at its own game. As Max mentioned, it was raining the day we went to the Taj Mahal, so we all had POW-issued umbrellas. I managed to snag mine on the way out of the bus, rendering it useless, so I just folded it up. Since they don't allow vehicles within several hundred yards of the Taj entrance (to avoid pollution) we have to wend our way through some of the most aggressive vendors/beggars we have yet encountered. One chap is in my face, trying to sell me a book of Taj postcards. He won't give up. I try ignoring him, I try no-ing him repeatedly, I try insulting him, to no avail. Suddenly, I get an idea - I thrust my useless umbrella in his face and ask "Trade?" He jumps at the opportunity, and I walk off triumphantly, with a book of Taj Mahal postcards that I'll never use. It's the principle of the thing.


It's our last night on the POW, but we're still not hungry and just have soup. Everybody in the Bar Car is saying their goodbyes to friends they have made and trading e-mail addresses that, for the most part, will never be used. I apologize for my cynicism, but anyone who has been on a cruise or tour of this sort knows I'm right.


The next morning, we pay our tips and are off the train by 8 AM. Back at the Claridges, we get a room that is much larger and more comfortable than the first time we stayed here. We decide, once again, to go to the Khan Mrket, but discover it doesn't open until 11:30. How silly of us to expect a retail market to open before the day is half over. In '86 I read a piece by Nehru who lamented the Indian work ethic. He said most office workers, especially government workers, appear at their office by 10 each morning, read the newspaper and take tea until 11, do a little work until noon, then take at least an hour for lunch,come back and do another hour or two of work, then leave for home.


Anyway, our taxi driver takes us to another market, where Max picks up some prezzies for Mumsie, Krid and the Knitwits. Don't ask. We hang out for the duration of the day, repacking for Morocco.


Next day, Prandesh and Driver pick us up at 8:50 AM. Our flight is at 1:10 PM. The drive takes 40 minutes, so we make it by the skin of our teeth, having only 3 hours and 40 minutes to clear check-in and security.


Indira Ghandi International Airport has you check your luggage way before you check in. They scan it and then strap it with industrial strength plastic strapping, to prevent you getting back into it. Ever. We know we have a 9 hour flight to London, so we upgrade our seating to bulkhead seats, for about $80 each.


The flight is great because: We have all kinds of legroom/stand room in front of us. We have
a great variety of good movies to view at our leisure, free. They serve free booze. The meal is actually edible. The flight sucks because: The Hindi across the aisle from us decides to abandon his seat so his wife can snooze, and sits in the flight attendant's seat in front of us, staring at us and taking away our leg room. They don't clear the meal dishes for about an hour, the Bloody Marys were Bloody Awful and we're 45 minutes late leaving, meaning we were in the airport for over 4 hours before leaving.


In Heathrow, we have a long walk to immigration, then a long wait to get through immigration, then a long wait in the cold to get our Hoppa Bus to our hotel, the Premier (not) Travel Lodge. At Check-in we're line-jumped for the second time since we've arrived in London. The first was at immigration, when a bunch of Indians set up their own line for check-ins. Not that I'm bitter.


We're told our room, #1122 is on the first floor, so we schlep our luggage through 2 security doors requiring our room key (remember, we have major luggage), before realizing we're in LimeyLand (sorry about that Ernie, if you're still reading) and the first floor is actually one floor up from the Ground Floor. So we trudge up to the first (second) floor, using our room key for the elevator, make about 4 wrong turns and finally get to our room. I go down to the lobby and call the office, to hear we've had a 3 foot snowfall, then retire to the room for wine and bed. Whataday.

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