While I intend to make this trip a running theme on these pages over the course of ensuing months, let me begin by saying that I have never been a particular fan of India, Pakistan, or any of those other countries. I am sure you know the ones I am talking about.
Having spent a decade living in, and adapting to a society that places extreme importance on:
Personal hygiene and cleanliness;
An abhorrence of being outdoors whilst bare feet;
A never ending, relentless pursuit of improved toilet hygiene;
I was nonetheless disappointed to be in India.
I should have known something was up when I arrived at the departure gate where the Air India jet was waiting for me.
The big problem I initially had with this machine was that odds are it had probably spent a fair amount of its lifespan being maintained, serviced, and operated by, well I'll just say it, Indians. I am sure any reasonable person would agree, Indians are not known for their attention to detail or tecichal capacity are they? Granted, for some reason, they seem to be very good with computers, and running call centers, but not much else.
For whatever reason, it seemed to have a lot of paint chipped off its nose. I know its only superficial, but I always like looking at all the different paint designs employed by world carriers when I go to the airport. It relaxes me.
India, if you cant even get the paint job right, what else is going to be wrong with the plane?
Maybe the pilots just hit a lot of birds (definitely not good), or maybe the tarmac approach man with the ping pong paddles in New Delhi is rubbish at estimation and often has the planes nudging into the arrival terminal on approach. Who knows? In any case would it kill them to touch up the paint job.
Its not as if they are working during the stopovers. The pilots were in the cockpit sleeping, having put newspaper, yes, newspaper up against the windows to give themselves a bit of privacy. Get a load of it. All class.
Once up in the air, I got a bit of a shock at the stewardess's outfit. It was a Indian sari gown thingy that exposed their mid rift. My stewardess woman was old and fat so it was all very offputting. To top it off she also refused me alcohol service on the grounds that I already had a drink. Fair enough, I did, but it wouldn't have killed her to waddle off to the galley and bring me another one.
Touch down in Delhi. The first thing that hits you is the smell. Fair enough, you get used to it after to 3 or 4 days, but at first it is very ordinary. You know how you smell when you are say, camping and you have to go 2 days or more without a shower? Thats how the entire country smells.
Before I offend anyone, please allow me to reiterate that was not intended as an insult. It is an undeniable, irrefutable, objective statement of fact.
The entire country smells like a bum hole.
