This tale, a journey of a thousand miles (ten thousand, more likely) began at the airport in Mangalore. The time, last Saturday afternoon, 2 pm IST. Actually, the tale began a week earlier with the arguments about packing with my mom about what to pack and what not etc etc etc. My mom started calling up all my cousins, my uncles, my aunts, my friends, my cousins' uncles' aunts' friends and a host of other folks for advice. If you ever needed an example for too many cooks spoiling the broth, this was it. No matter, as the packing was going along smoothly, in the sense what whatever my mom added to the suitcase, I removed from the other side. Finally, as we managed to compromise, 2 suitcases were filled with clothes, food and the usual knick knacks and weighed. Just right for the international limit.
Coming back to Saturday afternoon, an early lunch and lots of goodbyes later, we were at the airport. A long drawn farewell with family and friends was on the cards, as long as my mobile was in range. Among those who came to see me off was Dharmu who, for a change, presented me with a Rum n Raisins chocolate.
The announcement for passengers on Kingfisher airlines to Mumbai to proceed to security check was er... announced. As I walked through security, a strange twinge of homesickness hit me, as I realized I would not be seeing my home for more than a year. However, it was soon quelled by the sight of the Kingfisher airhostesses in their skimpy uniforms. I boarded the flight and started on a long, long journey that was to conclude at Kingsport, Tennessee nearly 40 hours later.
I spent most of the flight to Mumbai thinking about how different life was going to be for the next year. I was missing Mangalore and my friends already. Loneliness was personified. Sigh. I'd a 9 hour wait in Mumbai, which I'd planned to spend at the airport, counting on my fingers. However, luckily for me, one of my dad's friends was in town, just for the weekend, and I could go to his home. He's travelled far and wide, and gave me the total fundae on things, which really helped me a lot on the trip. He dropped me off at the airport at night and waited for nearly an hour as I completed my check in. I can't really thank him enough.
With the check in done and over with quickly, I'd over two hours wait at the airport before my flight in the lounge/post security check area. The last calls from India with my now defunct hutch number (God bless its soul) were made. Then off I was, stepping into the aircraft, and off the soil of India, for quite some time. By that point, it was 1 in the morning, and as soon as the flight to Amsterdam took off, I was out like a light. Slept like a baby (a very large one, at that) for most of the 10 hour flight. I wouldnt say I was snoring much, but my co-passenger had ripped his pillow and stuffed the cotton in his ears.
When my eyes opened (literally, not metaphorically), we were just about a hour and a half away from the Netherlands. I always wondered why that place was called so. Perhaps because it's neither here nor there, wherever that is. If you're confused, don't worry. So was I. Ahem. Moving on, it was 7 am local time when we landed, which meant it was about 10.30 back home. Used my credit card to call home and assure them I was in one piece... almost.
The Schizpol (I think) airport was huge. And I'm just talkin' about the transit area. And here it was that I waited. (a bit monotonous, no?) After a quick trip to the restroom, I made my first transaction in foreign currency (for some years) for some breakfast here. The only thing that looked palatable on the menu was chocolate donuts, so had that and a cup of coffee (old habits die hard). The caffeine withdrawal syndrome, and all that. Then it was off to wait, another hour or so, before my connecting flight.
... to be continued... with pics!
Labels: travel
