The minor terror of embarking on any overseas trip is always exaggerated by a certain set of common factors: customs security; duty free; constant elbow barging with face-masked japanese; and flying. If the comrades from Plane Stupid could see me, well, I'd probably be strung from the low-carbon yard-arm...
This isn't a trip to save a life - this isn't an academic embarkation - this isn't even purely the religious or socio-political experience, as I painted ad nauseaum to my friends and work colleagues. This is, in the immortal words of Ghandi, me getting the fuck out of Dodge City. How do I justify this journey? I don't. I'm sick of life and I want something new.
With that out of the way, onto the journey thus far. Sitting in the business class lounge (courtesy of mum's gold skywards card), I find myself utterly fucked off at Dubai Airport - over fourty shops and not a single one sells a fucking notepad. Lots of calenders and Amitabh Bhachan branded aftershave, but not a single pad. Hence a hurried and desperate dash to get all my thoughts down, before they dissolve into the cloud of my own FAIL.
I've always had somewhat of a dislike for Dubai. All these massive hotels, constructed islands and an airport that looks like the flashy bit from Logans Run, except with more black and chinese people...It's all a little sinister, when you look at history in general - the russian industrial revolution, the chinese great leap forward et al - these huge leaps forward came at the cost of thousands if not millions of lives...and the environmental issues suck too...but anywho, that's exactly the kind of thinking that i want to avoid...
Unfortunately these things simply can't be avoided, especially in India. I chatted to a group of musicians from Warwick University Symphony Orchestra (WUSO). They were an amiable bunch, all wearing "India Tour 2009" shirts. I asked them where they were touring to - "Oh only a private ceremony in Delhi." I probed further - turns out they were booked by non other than Lakshmi Mittal of Mittal-Arcelor (yep, the steel/manufacturing/mining tycoon) to play his son's wedding reception. An orchestra of twenty people - fully paid, expenses, full works. People and money, eh? Then I hear that the Ambani Brothers of the Reliance Megacorp are building a massive tower complex in the middle of Mumbai, soley for their immediate family - a Canary Wharf-sized building for a family of thirty...I shit you not...
But then, that's India for you...Anyhow, right now I'm stuck next to some Doncaster dude who's working for Tata Telecomms - he lives in Costa Rico and apparently hates working in India. He had something to say about everything I pulled out of my bag, from my malaria tablets to my coat - i tactfully kept my comics safely tucked away...
Arriving into Dehli was odd to say the least - health check points with infrared cameras greeted us. They seem somewhat shit-scared, nay terrified, of Swine Flu. Anyhow, we got through unmolested, the only hitch was waiting for ages at the luggage carousel - standard...
That's enought for this post...
Sunday, 22 November 2009
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