Boarding the plane to Bangalore via KL was a great time to forget every lesson I have learnt about going to India.
This time is part work, part pleasure but like the other 14 or 15 times, a big stretch. I have my coping mechanisms for the big trip, from tuning out with headphones to hanging out with hotel staff.I can also be bloody impatient, no matter how hard I try.
But, travel with others, including your wife whose a pretty good traveler, your 7 year old daughter and your 68-year-old dad who are, err, well, not as advanced… gives new meaning to new appreciation.
There’s a period of adjustment… and here are the five places where patience is an absolute virtue on a trip to India or any third world country.
1. Anywhere your parents or kids are
My old man, a plumber from Adelaide, never used a computer, not travelled third world for a long time, as in since the 80’s, jokes before we left: “Oh, who will you look after more… me or Jess…”. We laughed heartily. He’s 68. We have never spent much time together, guess we are getting to know each other again.
Day two on the trip & he was pretty flustered.
Muttered “FFS, get your passport out dad”.
Overhearing mutter “Don’t tell me what to do…”
Louder response “All I am saying is…”
As my wife said “Battle of the try hard alpha males”. Day three, deep breaths, give him time, remember that he’s nervous as hell and go with it.
If you’ve travelled with a seven-year-old, you don’t need me to explain further. Deep breaths “Please take your finger out of your nose…” etc.
2. Hotel check in
“If sir could send photoscan of passport would make for immediate check in!”
Awesome, because a 20 hour commute leaves me a bit sweaty and freaking over it. So on arrival, the scanning of the documents, the blank look when explaining the email of the passport scans and then another slow scan of the second passport and… 30 minutes later and a few under breath FFS’s and…
… then find out the grandfather and granddaughter combo are expected to share a double bed after you have it in writing about twin and…
AAAARRRGGGHHHHHH
Deep breaths. You’ve only been here an hour.
3. Traffic
“Yes Mark, should take an hour”
Two hours 15 minutes later.
“Traffic bad today…once we get past this intersection only another 15 minutes and…”
“Daddy I feel pretty sick…”
“Son my guts are uncomfortable. I normally have to have an iced coffee to get things moving but not here and…”
Shallow breaths, he’s holding *most* of the gas in.
Meanwhile, friend and driver Vivek is unflappable as ever. 36 hours in.
4. Cold beer
It is NEVER quick enough when you’ve done 17 km in 2.5 hours. Kingfisher is GOOD. I mean REAL GOOD. Ultra? Nah, premium is great.
5. Customs on the way home
So. Tantalisingly. Close. On the other side is bags, bag check, taxi, four lanes of traffic, only four cars wide, drinkable water…
I sit in the back of the cab, watching Melbourne’s near perfect city skyline and I can’t wait to go back again.
With more patience. Promise.
