My passage to India

As someone that has travelled a bit and seen her share of planes and international airports, it's always fascinating to me how each airport has their quirks.

The flights were nothing out of the ordinary. Somewhat cramped coach seats and uneventful, if somewhat long, flights.

My one stop in Frankfurt allowed me to see much of the airport as I had to trek from one end of the airport to the other to reach my connecting gate, which took a good 30 min. I had unwisely worn my brand new Nike's and had a slightly bleeding left ankle by the end of it. Never wear new shoes when travelling, be them runners or heels. One of the more interesting sights at the Frankfurt airport were what I would call smoker jails. The Germans seem to have opted out of outright banning smoking in the airport and instead installed a series of glass enclosures where smokers shut themselves in and puff away their lives. It reminded me of the zoo actually. "Hey kids, see those people in the glass room with ciggies in their mouths? They're a special species called Homo Cancerous and are caracterized by their compulsive nicotine addiction."

Security measures were also different than in North America. I was told to keep my little bag of liquids in my carry on as it went through the x-ray. I never understood why we had to take them out anyway.

I have to say that the best and worst of European airports is the shopping. Lots of great stuff and food at gut wrenching prices. My croissant, tea, and water cost 9 euros (CAD$14). On the other hand, it was one of the best croissants I've had at an airport cafe.

Arriving at Bangalore 8 hours and change after my stop in Frankfurt, I got to see Indian security at work. Which is to say there was none. I have never previously entered a country and had the customs officer say not one word to me.

Me: Hello (smile in a non-threatening, non-smuggler, non-crimal way)
Officer: (nod, no smile, no eye contact, stamp passport, hand passport back)

I kept expecting there to be other levels of security that I might have to go through but there was nothing. I just collected my luggage and out I went.

Pete had arranged for a driver (Farook) to come to the airport to collect me alone as Pete was laid up with a fever. Bangalore airport is one of the major infrastructure upgrades that the city has finalized as it adjusts to its needs as India's IT centre and unlike the old airport, is about 60 km from the city centre, which means I had about an hour long ride before reaching the appartment. An hour for a 60 km ride you ask? The roads are still waiting for their upgrade it seems.

The ride into Bangalore didn't allow me to see much of the suburbs unfortunately as the surrounding areas are not exactly well lit at night. However, I did get my first taste of driving in India. Basically, there are no rules that I could discern. Farook was a pretty slow and unagressive driver (not sure if that's his temperament or a limitation of his Tata vehicle), which was good for my North American sensibilities, but for long stretches he would straddle two lanes for no apparent reason, the car seemed to be missing side mirrors, and I never did figure out whether the car could signal as he never did. There was also much more aggressive behaviour by other drivers on the road despite the lack of traffic at 2 am.

Finally, after 24 hours in transit, I finally got to see my thinner and somewhat feverish and pale husband at the appartment lobby. A good end to a long trip.