Enter Chaos

My two hours on Heathrow went by really fast. I just barely had the time to buy a book before the boarding on my flight started. The boarding went smoothly, as I for once was a First Class person, and didn't have to get in line or anything. There was some drama onboard the plane though, as two older Indian women totally refused to sit on the upper deck of the airplane. I don't know whether it was because sitting up there means bad luck, or maybe they were afraid of heights, but the flight intendants managed to move some people around, and we were ready for take-off. For dinner I went for pasta and turkey, with apple jelly for dessert. Annoyingly enough, the drinks are free, and I don't drink. How come there's no free chocolate as well?

And all of a sudden I was in Asia. The world as I thought I knew it disappeared from my surroundings, and were instantly replaced by something called India. We were pushed out of the airplane, and had to follow some militant person with a turban to a conveyor belt where we had to reclaim our luggage. I partially succeeded, but my sleeping bag was missing from my backpack. "Not to wolly", the militant person said, and I knew the sleeping bag wasnt of wool, so I figured that meant I probably would get my sleeping bag back someday. "Sit hele and wait!", they told me. And boy, did I sit there and wait! My flight was scheduled at 16:10, which should give me a good six hour stopover at New Delhi Airport.

It turned out that the flight would not be ready until 23:45, and I put some effort into demanding some food voucher, and I ended up with getting a free lunch at 21:30. And they say there's no such thing as a free lunch. Hah! The only problem was that the "Golden Fried Chicken" turned out ot be Fish'n'Chips. Apart from that, I have to say that the New Delhi Airport was a rather mentally disturbing place to visit, for several reasons:

• For most of the time, I seemed to be the only travelling person in the international area. Some 2-300 employees were wandering around, doing nothing much, which seemed to be their job.
• I was fairly comfortable with the situation, until the employees started coming over to me and say "Don't worry, Mr. Torrissen". Then I started to worry. What bad thing was happening, so that the people working there all knew my name and came over to make me feel better? Had my sleeping bag fallen into the jet engine? Would there be no food on my next flight? Did they just in general take pity on people who actually have to spend some time in an airplane in an area managed by the New Delhi Air Control?
• After a few hours, one of the employees came over and didn't say "Don't worry". Instead he said "Follow me!". "Ah", I thought, "Finally we will have an explanation and maybe even get me my sleeping bag back. Good deal!". So I followed the man. For many minutes. He took me through two buildings and to the outside. This struck me as a bit strange, as I had tried to go outside a bit earlier, but the customs people told me off very insistently. So, I kinda coughed, to get the man's attention. He jumped! And then he turned, and asked "What are you doing here, Sahib?!". I told him I was following him. "You must not be here. You be arrested! This India, you no visa." "Oh... But you told me to follow you." "No, sahib. I never did." "Oh." So, I had to make him smuggle me back into the airport again. We succeeded, and I decided not ever to do what people tell me again.
• The men's room deserve a mentioning. Of the 2-300 employees at the airport, 3 of them were assigned to keeping the sink and the mirror at the men's room perfectly clean at all times. And one person sells toilet paper at one rupi per sheet. Which is rather expensive, considering that a whole roll costs about 8 rupis. Also, to increase your desperation, they have an electronic gadget on the wall, playing "Theme from Lambada", a 6 second long theme, over and over and over and over and over again. That is perfectly okay, though, as most people spend less than six seconds in there. You see, even though they have 3 employees for cleaning the sink and mirror, there are none to clean the actual toilet and surrounding area.
• The good news is that you don't have to worry about these things when you go to New Delhi Airport in the future. They will all have improved by then, thanks to me. This is because I managed to find a "Suggestion Box" in a dark corner of the airport, where I put about 3 full pages of well-meant advice on how they can make the airport uhm... smoother.

I had to give up finding my sleeping bag, so I filed a "Missing luggage" report with British Airways. To be certain of getting things done, I estimated the bag's worth at US$250, which is probably 5 times what it is worth.

The only thing separating me from my adventures in Nepal now, was the security check. Apparently, India have a big terrorism problems. I don't know how many wars are going on inside that country as we're writing, but there are more or less a few of them. At least there have to be, if the security procedures at the airports is any indication. There were two lines for the feel'em-up check, and I, naturally, chose the shortest one. The shortest one turned out to be the one for women, and the women inspector turned into a strange mix of brown and red, which I guess is a local version of blushing, when it was my turn to be uhm... checked. I had no weapons on me, which was a good thing, because if I had had any, I probably would have been able to bring it on board and hijack the airplane. "Take me home, out of this madhouse!", or something. She didn't feel me up very thoroughly. Actually, she just barely touched me.

Noone else hijacked the plane either, so I arrived in Kathmandu in the middle of the night, safe and sound.