Once we’re out of the airport proper, the driver – who never speaks… EVER (but at least he doesn’t keep his eyes locked on me thru the rear view mirror!) – takes us on a highway. For those who don’t know, India is one of those insane countries where you drive on the left side of the road and the driver sits on the right side of the car. For us normal folks who drive on the correct sides, this is inherently stressful to participate in this kind of activity. Now add India as a variable where lane indicators are decorative at best and the best drivers always have at least one hand on the horn and the other on the high beams so that they can inform other traffic of the fact that they own the road and you’d better get outta the way. Oh, and did I mention that tailgating at highway speeds doesn’t actually start until you’re exchanging electrons with the bumper of the car in front of you?
That guy’s car now has a hole in the floor of the back seat where I kept trying to apply my virtual brakes.
Anyway, about 15 mins into this ride I realize two things. First, I had thought from my map checking a week ago that the ride from the airport to the hotel was a short one. In fact, the hotel is on “old airport avenue” and so shouldn’t that be pretty close? But we’re driving like a frantic bat out of hell and getting farther and farther from the airport. I begin to think that perhaps I’m being kidnapped (old-man-napped?) and taken to the old shack with the slimy bolt that I encountered back in 2006. I can’t remember what the second thing I realized was, so pretend it was something interesting.
I turned my phone on. I had turned it off in Frankfurt because the battery was really low. I had hoped to charge it on the plane but the plane seat’s outlet is inset just enough that while my ipad and laptop can plug in, my cell charger cannot. Boo.
So with phone turned on, I figured I can fire up google maps and see how it would navigate me to the hotel. This would at least let me know if I was being taken “for a ride.”
Quick rabbit trail: since SAP made my phone “secure,” it is slow. So slow that it takes about 5 minutes to boot up and do anything useful. I really miss my insecure phone.
After 5 mins I am informed of two things. First, we ARE on the way to the hotel. That is good. Second, I have messages that sound rather urgent from my wife and a colleague from work. One of the messages is a text from Megan with a picture of firemen standing in my basement. I have emails from our security system – 3 of them – telling me that the smoke detector alerted about a fire. That can’t be good. All of the messages state – and some in no uncertain terms – that I must call home NOW.
But the taxi ride here is noisy and bumpy and I’m sooooooo close to the Royal Orchid Hotel that I can almost smell the sewage that some of the reviews warned me about. So I text back to Megan that I’ll call her in a few mins.
Now quite mentally distracted, I attempt to turn my attention to Bangalore that is whizzing by me. Granted, this is Bangalore at 3:30am in the morning but there is still quite a bit going on. There are dogs in the streets – big ones that I think are gang members. There are boys in the streets. Little ones that I think are gang members. I wonder if they and the dogs have occasional turf wars. I also think to myself that there are so many dogs that if I get up the boldness to go for a walk I better watch where I step. And google what the gang colors are for the dogs, since they look scarier than the little boys gang, even though the boys were smoking and trying to look tougher than the dogs.
The route to the hotel took me through some very, very seedy looking places. In fact, the road TO the hotel looks… scary. Like some of the rundown drug-infested areas of Baltimore city. When we get to the official hotel gate, there is a guard, and he uses one of those big mirrors on a stick to check the underside of the car. Is he looking for bombs? Or stowaways? X-files pops back into my mind…
That guy’s car now has a hole in the floor of the back seat where I kept trying to apply my virtual brakes.
Anyway, about 15 mins into this ride I realize two things. First, I had thought from my map checking a week ago that the ride from the airport to the hotel was a short one. In fact, the hotel is on “old airport avenue” and so shouldn’t that be pretty close? But we’re driving like a frantic bat out of hell and getting farther and farther from the airport. I begin to think that perhaps I’m being kidnapped (old-man-napped?) and taken to the old shack with the slimy bolt that I encountered back in 2006. I can’t remember what the second thing I realized was, so pretend it was something interesting.
I turned my phone on. I had turned it off in Frankfurt because the battery was really low. I had hoped to charge it on the plane but the plane seat’s outlet is inset just enough that while my ipad and laptop can plug in, my cell charger cannot. Boo.
So with phone turned on, I figured I can fire up google maps and see how it would navigate me to the hotel. This would at least let me know if I was being taken “for a ride.”
Quick rabbit trail: since SAP made my phone “secure,” it is slow. So slow that it takes about 5 minutes to boot up and do anything useful. I really miss my insecure phone.
After 5 mins I am informed of two things. First, we ARE on the way to the hotel. That is good. Second, I have messages that sound rather urgent from my wife and a colleague from work. One of the messages is a text from Megan with a picture of firemen standing in my basement. I have emails from our security system – 3 of them – telling me that the smoke detector alerted about a fire. That can’t be good. All of the messages state – and some in no uncertain terms – that I must call home NOW.
 |
| This isn't going to be good for anybody. |
Now quite mentally distracted, I attempt to turn my attention to Bangalore that is whizzing by me. Granted, this is Bangalore at 3:30am in the morning but there is still quite a bit going on. There are dogs in the streets – big ones that I think are gang members. There are boys in the streets. Little ones that I think are gang members. I wonder if they and the dogs have occasional turf wars. I also think to myself that there are so many dogs that if I get up the boldness to go for a walk I better watch where I step. And google what the gang colors are for the dogs, since they look scarier than the little boys gang, even though the boys were smoking and trying to look tougher than the dogs.
The route to the hotel took me through some very, very seedy looking places. In fact, the road TO the hotel looks… scary. Like some of the rundown drug-infested areas of Baltimore city. When we get to the official hotel gate, there is a guard, and he uses one of those big mirrors on a stick to check the underside of the car. Is he looking for bombs? Or stowaways? X-files pops back into my mind…
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