Getting (t)here is half the fun

Just a note - I composed and published this post before I changed the date and time setting on my netbook to Indian time - so although it says January 15 (Saturday) it is actually now Sunday the 16th.

Hello friends! It is Sunday morning at about 9:50 am IST in Kovalam Beach and it is great to be here. Okay - first we'll dispense with the story of travail involved in my flight from London. I left my friend Delia's house about 11:20 pm on Thursday evening (the 14th) as I knew this gave me plenty of time to bump my bags (the Seven Sisters tube station has quite a few stairs) to the underground and catch the last train to Heathrow. Unfortunately I didn't do as much research as I should have regarding the 'last train' situation since I missed - by about 15 minutes - the last train to Terminal 4.

So here I am, at about 12:30 am on Friday the 14th of January, at Terminal 1. I have picked up a buddy - Renzo from Colombia who is also trying to get to Terminal 4 where our flights will depart later today - his at 6:40 am, mine at 8:00 am. After asking random people and wandering out to the bus terminus where cleaning staff and others had told us we could catch a bus to Terminal 4 (but locals standing waiting for the bus told us we could not) we finally had no choice (we thought) but to catch a taxi to Terminal 4 which is about 7 miles distant on a 'non-walkable' route. Luckily I had cash because the taxi driver informed me that they don't accept plastic for fares less than 50 pounds (weird).

If I hadn't shown up I don't know what Renzo would have done since he had no English money, had left his cash card at home and didn't seem to have any funding alternatives at all. So I guess it was my chance to be an angel which was fine - it's only money. The next day a woman told me that there is something called the Heathrow Hopper that goes between terminals for a flat rate (4 pounds I think) but certainly there was no information about that very obvious nor did anyone we speak to know about it. Oh well - better informed for next time.

So around 2:30 am or so we finally arrived at Terminal 4 to find it strewn with sleepers with their heads cushioned on their bags and tucked in to quiet corners. Only Caffe Nero was open so - using my credit card as I was now out of cash other than about 75 pence in coins - I bought Renzo and I coffee. Unfortunately the Caffe Nero at the airport, unlike their in town branches, had no WiFi so had to make time pass reading and such like. Renzo went to check in at about 5:00 am and we hugged goodbye. He had received some bad news while we were sitting - the death of a relative that was expected but he had hoped to see him before he died - and he seemed very fragile. Poor lad - I hope he had a good trip and that he is now in Colombia.

I went down to my check in at about 5:45 am to find that my flight was delayed to 12 noon but that those of us with connections would be taken by bus to Gatwick where we would catch a flight at 9:30 am that would get us into Doha in plenty of time to make our transfers. It was (barely) organized confusion and I must admit that I was disappointed that Qatar Airways didn't handle it better. There was nowhere for us to sit and they kept postponing the time at which the coach was supposed to be coming. Finally at about 7:15 am we were herded out to a bus and taken to Gatwick. I slept a bit on the bus ride which took about an hour. There was no-one to meet us at Gatwick, it was raining, the trolleys needed a pound coin to obtain and once there (we had to get our bags tagged at Heathrow & then take them with us to Gatwick) we had to drop our checked bags and get through security.

Finally - only about 20 minutes late - we took off from Gatwick. I could no longer keep my eyes open and I drifted off several times and was in that weird state where you're not quite sure where you are, who you are and whether you're awake or dreaming. I had mentioned to the woman sitting next to me that as well as being exceedingly sleepy I was also starving so she kept waking me up whenever food presented - which was fine. The food was pretty good and by the time we got to Doha I didn't feel too bad.

We were disgorged out of the plane into one of those bus thingies and whisked to the terminal which was a sea of people with Qatar Airways staff walking up and down calling out and asking for those on flights to Colombo, Kuala Lumpur and a few other destinations that were obviously leaving shortly. Then it was through another security check - which took about 20 minutes to get to the front of the line and through - and on to Gate 20 for boarding the Trivandrum flight. I had time for a quick pee, brushing of teeth and filling up my water bottle at the fountain (it was lukewarm and not the best tasting but I presumed it would be safe). By the time I got to the gate we were boarding and within 25 minutes we were in the air.

As I suspected would happen I ended up next to a couple of Malayali guys who were behaving in the manner I have come to accept as the stereotypical returning home from work/holiday in the Gulf demeanor of the average Kerala male. The one sitting in the window seat was asked to speak to someone at the back of the plane regarding his duty free - perhaps he was over allowance. No sooner were we in the air than the two of them started demanding whiskey which the flight attendant gave them, they tossed off in a few quick gulps and then were asking for more. I think they got two glasses each before they were told that they couldn't have any more or were basically ignored. Then they started demanding water and would sort of shout randomly at flight attendants walking by and would hold up their glasses and request water while she was still serving people a row or two in front of us. My big fear was that the one sitting next to me - who looked a bit queasy after his rapid quaffing of what must have been two triple shots of whiskey - would vomit on me.

As is only natural all this quick ingestion of alcohol means you're going to have to pee. The line up for the washrooms at the back of economy (there were 3) was soon eight or nine men deep. I wanted to go, especially since I know the bathroom at the Trivandrum airport is often not too pleasant to say the least, but while I was waiting we hit turbulence, the seatbelt sign came on and we were all chivied back to our seats. Mr. Queasy next to me kept undoing his seatbelt and making moves like he was going to get up but by this time we had begun our descent and I told him that he wasn't allowed to get up and so he glumly rebuckled his seatbelt and was no doubt thinking highly uncharitable thoughts about me. I personally could have cared less if he had been tossed about the airplane (of course I don't really mean that - or do I?) by turbulence but I would have had to get out of my aisle seat to let him by and I wasn't going to disobey the rules. Such a brown-noser am I!

We landed on time - at the delightful hour of 3:20 am - and joined what could only be described as a MOB of people in the arrivals hall (which believe me is far too grandiose a name for it) of the airport. Despite there being a completed and spectacular looking Terminal 3 travellers are still being subjected to this frankly embarrassingly shabby building. I went to the toilet to find only 1 of the 2(!) cubicles working - the other door, which as I remember contains a squat type Indian toilet was held closed with a piece of string. There was no toilet paper but it was relatively clean although buzzing with mosquitoes. By the time I left there were probably 10 women waiting to go. Not very impressive.

It seemed that three flights - mine, one from Kuwait Airways and one from Emirates - had arrived all at the same time. Now we were all being channeled - although not with sufficient cordons - into three or four roughly formed lines for the FOUR (yes only FOUR) immigration officers checking passports and visas. I stood in line for at least an hour before I made it to the front. Thankfully it wasn't too hot but tempers were starting to fray and it seemed nothing I did could make people happy. Our line was probably 4 or 5 people across and so I let a couple of the Indians from the right hand column go ahead of me - then some Indian guy from a few people behind me came up and asked it I was going to go since I was blocking the people behind and they were getting upset. The guy at the desk heard him and rebuked him sharply - there was lots of Malayalam (the language of Kerala) flying around with the word 'foreigner' occurring frequently.

Within a few minutes I was through this step, the guy at the next stop who looked at my arrival card asked me how long I'd been in line. I replied about an hour and a bit and he said "You must be fed up.". I said no and supplied the usual excuse/explanation - "It's India". "Yes" he replied, "Incredible India!" with a smile. I laughed and went through to pick up my hand luggage - which was being X-rayed yet again - and on to the baggage carousel. There are only two baggage carousels at Trivandrum and since 3 flights had landed the Qatar flight's luggage (I think we must have been first to land) was on the floor off to one side. My bags were easy to find (I think I may have been one of the last people from the Qatar flight to make it through immigration) and within a few moments I was out at the pre-paid taxi counter booking my taxi. At a little after 5:30 am I arrived at the Marina Guest House and as the sun came up on Saturday, January 15, 2011, I was strolling along the beach enjoying the feeling of the sand beneath my bare feet and the waves washing over my toes.

I bathed Indian style (filled a bucket and used the scoop rather than running the hot and cold water through the shower since I suspected that there would be too much temperature variation as the geyser struggled to keep up with the water flow and the shower is also not very powerful) and set out around 8:30 am for coffee at the Leela hotel. I then travelled into Trivandrum to get money from the bank machine, have lunch at Arriya Nivaas (see previous post for details) and do some shopping. I found things quite a bit more expensive - thali lunch is now 110 rupees (up from 90 in 2009 and 75 in the 2 years before that) but otherwise not much different. There is a new air con, low floor bus running between Kovalam Beach, Trivandrum and outlying destinations (most crucially the Technopark) and that is very comfortable although almost twice as much as the regular bus (26 rupees versus 14).

I had a little nap when I got back to Kovalam - which may have been a mistake since I felt awful for the 1.5 hours after it and keep feeling that if I didn't keep moving I would fall into a coma where I sat - but then got a second wind around 8 pm. Dined with Joy on chicken fry, dosa, salad and curry he bought from a new cafe he frequents. Had tiramisu from Tesco - which still seemed okay despite being unrefrigerated in my bag since I left Delia's on Thursday night and arrived at Kovalam Beach - as dessert and then - most exciting - did laundry! There is an old washing machine here at the guesthouse - it is great fun. You fill it up by connecting it to the tap and then set a simple timer to agitate the clothes from 3-12 minutes. There is a normal and a gentle agitation setting. Then you drain the washing compartment by turning the dial to drain and then you can repeat the process and either wash again or simply leave out the soap and rinse the clothes. After you are happy with the cleanliness of the clothes you put them in the other compartment and set the spin cycle which gets them surprisingly dry simply using centrifugal force. I did two loads of laundry and most of it is pretty dry this morning from hanging all night. Some of these clothes will just hang in the cupboard until I leave as they are far too heavy and hot to wear here.

So - I am here and I am happy. The weather is to my mind perfect although I think others are disappointed that it isn't hotter and sunnier. I slept last night without the fan on with just a sheet covering me and it was comfortable. Joy will bring my mosquito net (which is at his house) back today and we'll set it up but I slept last night with repellent as my only defence and think I only got a single bite. Today - I might try and have a massage or a foot reflexology session as I am feeling quite stiff. I'll finish off the tiramisu and tomorrow I'll begin planning out my exercise regime for my time here. I may throw in some yoga and try and regain some of the flexibility that seems to be lost when you get involved more heavily in running. I'll be set up with drinking water by tomorrow at the latest (there is a 20-litre bottle in my room but I asked Joy to get a new base as the one he had looked dubiously grimy) and the Internet is working well. I am currently sitting on my bed composing this posting.

Life is very good and I shall endeavour - over the next few weeks - to update this blog frequently and give you all a taste of life here in paradise. Ciao for now.