The Adventure Begins
Well, we’ve made it to Delhi, a little the worse for wear. It’s about 2pm here now on Friday the 7th, and I’ve just taken a nice shower in our one night hotel room not far from the airport cuz we have an 8am flight up to Kangra/Dharamsala tomorrow. Here’s the recap: early morning in Seattle, Uber to the Light Rail, Light Rail to the airport for our flight to San Francisco. Uneventful so far, but that’s about to change. Nancy checks her one bag in SFO, through to Delhi. I’m keeping all my stuff with me as carry on’s.
Once we get to SFO, an hour and a half late, we have to find the Qatar Airlines check in desks to get our boarding passes to Doha and then to Delhi. It’s a long way from where we came in, and the flight to Doha is gonna leave earlier than Nancy thought. It’s already 3 o’clock and the flight leaves at 4. We’re getting nervous. Walk the long way to the International terminal, pass and miss the right desk, ask again, head back in the direction we just came from, there it is, Qatar. The young lady there wants various documents and the clock is ticking. She questions our only having checked one bag. I offer that we’re traveling light. Except my suit case weighs in as “too heavy” to carry on and she wants me to take what I need out of it and check it in. I start to do that. Then she changes her mind and waves us on with my bag in my hand. The clock keeps ticking, and now we need to get to the right gate for the Doha flight.
Down the next long corridors, down stairs to the gate……..and wait. This flight isn’t leaving at 4. There are too many people not arrived yet. Breathe. The Eighth Point Of Mind Training: prepare for the 16 hours in flight.
Flying through the sky
dance of movement and stillness
loudly humming hearts
Turns out the 16 hours in flight are less stressful than I had imagined they would be. Not a fantastic experience, but pretty manageable, if you don’t mind not being comfortable enough to sleep. Movies, food, wine, some extra space next to my seat, very pleasant staff, as we’ve always experienced with Asian/Eastern airline attendants. And the prospect of being able to lie down and maybe sleep once in Doha, in our rented sleep pod, which turned out to be just what was needed. That was another adventure in itself, trying to find this sleep pod place, Sleep n’ Fly, which apparently is new-ish, and not well established enough yet for airport personnel to know where it is. Walk, follow signs, turn, ask, walk, ask again, turn around, follow more signs, finally someone knows, and we arrive.
Ahhh, just to be able to lie down under a nice cover in a comfy bed after that long flight. A light sleep, but very rewarding, and then ready for the next leg to Delhi, after some coffee, some falafels, a pain du chocolate, and more walking into the far distance of the enormity of the Doha airport to the next gate. Have you noticed that these large international airports are really big?
So the flight is about 3 1/2 hours, easy peasy, then a looooooong line at immigration to check visas, take your picture, run you through the computer system, stamp your passport, wave you on. There are hordes of travelers now, and most of them are coming to India, or so it might seem. In spite of the lingering regular announcements about social distancing and mask wearing (the official shift will take a little longer to evolve than the behavioral shift actually taking place), it’s all back to the 2019 norms of sardine crammed crowds. Go to baggage claim to pick up Nancy’s suit case, get some rupees from the ATM, hire a pre-paid taxi for the short ride to our hotel for the night.
Uh……but……Nancy’s bag isn’t there. Lots of other bags are there. There’s a grey suited young man helping someone else whose bag is also not there, and this will be our assignment for the next 45 minutes or so. Fill out forms, answer questions, write Indian addresses and phone numbers, value the contents of the bag……..Within 3 or 4 days the bag will be delivered to us at Stupa Guest House, Sherabling, Himachal Pradesh. It must still be in Doha and will arrive in Delhi tomorrow. Oddly, Nancy declares that she doesn’t much care if she gets the bag back or not. Hmm. I’m surprised by this. I think it must be the gleeful expectation of simply “having to” buy all new clothes. Yum.
Our hotel room is quiet, the shower water isn’t hot, but they provide shampoo and toothpaste and a toothbrush and nice big towels. There’s AC and two fans and TV and a safe and a fridge and a wardrobe and a comfortable king size bed. The shower drain is slow, the staff are friendly and helpful, the traffic is insane as only Indian traffic can be, or maybe as only Delhi traffic can be. The chai and food so far are ok too, but it’s pretty hard, really, to ruin an omelette very much, and how can you expect anything but good chai in India?
Autumn air delights
shifting light tells a story
who is listening?
