North India Tour - Day 1

We are in our Hotel in Delhi after a taxi ride, a plane flight and a private tour of Delhi by Ram Singh our personal driver and guide for the first nine days of our journey.

Where do you start to describe this odyssey?  Alarm set at 3:30 am, taxi booked at 4:00 am, plane due to take off at 6:40 am.  Sounds OK.  Wake before alarm and leap out of bed, well one leapt and the other rolled lazily to one side and stumbled out.  First surprise - phone rings, taxi driver is outside waiting.  I said "Good, wait till 4:00 am when you were booked."  he is OK and when we venture out the front door at 3:58 am we find him asleep on the front seat.  Pretty soon he is awake and we are off to the airport.  We have plenty of time so should be no problem from here on in.  

Great trip,  we arrive at the airport at 4:35, a bit earlier that the 5:10 that was anticipated.  But as any Wallis knows, it is better to be early than late.  We venture into the terminal and see the line to check in, only about 4 metres long (or 21 people - see story on Habits - Customs) and to the left a security check that is scanning all luggage.  We enquire and are told that all luggage to be checked in has to be scanned first - OK.

Scanning complete, so off we head to check in.  Line is considerably longer with a lot of people with no luggage.  As we wait their luggage arrives and we get pushed further and further back. (Make a mental note - next flight send Lynn to line up at Check In while I get bags scanned).  We settle in as the line slowly creeps forward.  After about 20 minutes we are next in line - Hallelujah.

The path is clear and I leap forward and toss the bag on to the conveyor as Lynn hands the e-ticket and passports to the Check In Clerk (hereafter known as CIC).  Lynn is a woman so CIC obviously does not notice her and turns to me and asks where I am flying.  I inform CIC that Lynn and I are going to Delhi.  CIC laughs and in a reply that contained the word 'no' at least twelve times informs me that I cannot possibly check in for the Delhi flight as it is too early and my bag will get mixed up with all the other flights and never arrive at the correct destination.

I inform CIC my name is Wallis and that our bags very rarely arrive with us no matter what time we check in.  Somehow CIC fails to recognise the humor in my witty reply.  He grabs the documents from Lynn, hands them to me and gently informs me that I should go away and come back after 5:15 am.  I mumble pleasant thoughts under my breath, grab the Invisible Woman's (hereafter called IW) arm and move away.

As we are walking I do a quick calculation on the length of the line especially noting the lack of AAPS and work out that we can go back to the end of the queue and should arrive at the counter at exactly the right time.  IW and I recommence the tortoise like crawl to the counter while glancing over our right shoulder at the next challenge - the security gate.  It is now 4:48 am and the line at security is 40 metres long!!!!

Unfortunately there was an error in my calculation about the amount of people CIC could process and we are making hare like speed.  Should we let the person behind us go first.  Too late - an 85 year old Indian lady has just pushed her trolley in front of us from nowhere.  How can someone who can barely walk blind-side me like that.  I instruct IW to watch the left and I will look after the right, this will not happen again.

We reached the counter at 5:10 as CIC smiled and slowly nodded his head from side to side.  IW leaps forward and thrusts the documents towards him accompanied by the plea "Sorry we are still 5 minutes early, is it all right to check in?"  After an innumerable number of nods, CIC and IW are best of friends, we get good seats, a smile, and a "Have a good trip".

Miraculously, the security line is moving fast and we join it carrying our back pack and a small bag containing the computer.  We reach the first check point, boarding pass and passports in order.  We are ushered to the left lane.  I notice a large hand-made cardboard sign hanging from the air-conditioning duct saying 'Women Only'.  I try to pull the IW to another line but somehow everyone can see her and her other arm is grabbed and she is jerked back into the line.

IW is assured that it is OK for me to be in the line with her.  Apparently the women running this security screening have an inability to see me.  As we reach the front of the line the guard refuses to accept our bags and starts shouting in Hindi and pointing at our bags.  We are confused until the lady behind us informs us that we need tags on our carry on bags.  I quickly indicate the two tags with our names, addresses, and phone numbers but the security guard continues to shout and refuse us entry.

The kind lady behind us informs us that they are not good enough and you have to have a tag supplied by the airline you are flying with.  We are instructed to go and line up and see CIC and get some.  At this point the security person expresses a huge amount of compassion for IW and motions her to stand at the side with the bags while I go and revisit my best friend CIC and obtain the required tags.

This is where knowing some of the customs-habits of Indian people comes in very handy.  I strolled back to the Check In desk, calmly walked to the front of the queue, pushed in front of the man being served and requested the tags from CIC.  He smiled, handed them over, and no one else said anything.  The Indian people are indeed patient.

I made my way back to the head of the security line where I was met by IW's new best friend who ushered me through.  I then proceeded to get out my pen and fill out the tags.  IW's new best friend started waving her hands furiously at me as if I had committed some heinous crime.  It turns out you don't have to have anything on the tags, you just have to have the tags attached to your carry on luggage.  Blank tags attached, off we go.  It is now 13 hours since this incident occurred and I am still struggling with why I needed them.

Where is IW?  I turn around and IW has broken out into what seemed like a bout of uncontrollable shakes.  Her face is twisted so much she cannot get a word out of her mouth.  I know some friends will find that last sentence quite unbelievable, but it was true.  She was blue in the face - I was worried - was she going to collapse again?  At that moment her left hand shot out like an iron rod in a pointing motion.  My eyes followed her pointing to a computer screen listing the things that Indian Airlines would not let us take on the Flight.  At this stage we both broke into uncontrollable laughter and IW grabbed my notebook and and pen and began writing the things that some people obviously thought were OK to take on a plane:

• Axes 
  
• Crow Bars 
  
• Ammunition 
  
• Dynamite 
  
• Plastic Explosives 
  
• Hand Grenades 
  
• Automatic Weapons 
  
• Guns 
  
• Mace 
  
• Bow and Arrows 
  
• Brass Knuckles 
  
• Baseball Bats 
  
• Cricket Bats 
  

Although we did not record them all, it does seem that Knives, Samurai Swords and Anti-Aircraft Missile Launchers are still on the OK list.   Luckily IW regained her composure and we went into the waiting lounge for Flight IC440 Chennai-Delhi

.... To be continued