Famous for its endless stretches of beaches, chilled-out atmosphere and lax rules for attire and alcohol, Goa is a must-see stopover for any traveller in India. Each beach offers something a little different, whether it be a hippie haven or all-night trance clubs, Goa has something for everyone. We opted for Palolem beach, which is one of the most southerly of the state's developed beaches and has endless cheap restaurants and beach huts, but still charming and relatively calm. Within 5 minutes of stepping off the bus, we were already relaxing with mango lassis taking in the Indian Ocean views just a few metres away. You know you're at a beach in India when, just like everywhere else in the country, there are cows lounging around eveywhere.
Although all of the beach hut resorts look exactly the same, they can range anywhere from 240 to 800 Rs, depending on how much the owners think they can gouge you for. Ours was a reasonable 400 Rs a night (about $10 Cdn), painted in outrageous neon yellow and green, and contained one single bed, faucet and mosquito netting. It was perfect.
On our first day we hired a catamaran from an English couple for the entire afternoon. It started off well with a straight downwind tack, and we explored some of the surrounding beaches and even saw some dolphins splashing in our wake. Two hours later, it was time to turn back, when I realized that I had no idea how to tack and turn the boat around. We were also starting to sit pretty heavily in the water. After sitting idle in the water for about 30 min trying to figure the boat out, a motorboat came out to investigate. A couple had spotted us from the isolated beach and called the English guys to say we were having trouble. After some careful guidance and some emergency boat work (it was taking in water because of a lost plug) we were well on our way and managed to make it back just as dusk was settling in.
The mornings were started off with an invigorating yoga class. Our instructor was a fit, Indian man in his mid-50s with wild greying hair that grew past his shoulders, looking every bit the part of the yogi master. He introduced himself as Swami Dayanand, but then said 'you will not be able to repeat it. Please call me Baba.' Our lessons began and ended with Baba giving us a huge bear hug and a kiss on the top of the head. As well as taking us through a series of yoga poses incorporating ashtanga, power yoga and pilates, he would also dispense life advice and recipes for treating ailments. To improve eyesight, he recommended a daily dose of white onion juice boiled with tumeric and applied directly to the eyes. When we complained of sore calf muscles, he felt them and frowned deeply. 'You Westerners and your running, I do not understand. Running is no good. From now on, no other exercise, only yoga.' He told us that rolling all of our toes would make our eyes better and that having a flexible waist would improve energy pathways to the mind. At the end of our last lesson, he gave us a final bear hug and grinned, 'add me to Facebook.'
One thing that Victoria really wanted to do in Goa was to hire a scooter for the day, something that I (privately) thought was a suicide wish. Drivers in India are even more insane than South America, and keeping within speeding limits, driving lanes and giving pedestrians right of way is totally optional. We were given one helmet between the both of us, but told us the helmet bylaw was rarely enforced. After a quick lesson (neither of us had ridden scooters before), we were off, with me in the backseat and my little sister in front. Did I mention that Victoria has never driven before? As in, she does not possess a driver's license? Anyways, if succesfully navigating Indian roads is any kind of test of driving skill, then she passed with flying colours. After some very nervous moments involving entire truckloads of hay spilled onto the roads, passing through a herd of moving cows, and then both of them combined, as well as a couple of wrong turns, we finally made it to our destination, Turtle Beach. There we saw nesting sites of endangered marine turtles, and pretty much had the entire beach to ourselves. On the way back, I decided to let her drive. Hopefully mine and Hazel's spotty driving record is not something that will be repeated by the third Ho sister.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Kerala Relaxation continued
We left Munnar at daybreak and arrived in Kottyam, a region famous for its backwaters, newspaper industry and hot, humid weather. It was stupidly hot when we rolled into our bus station at midday. So hot that it made me dizzy. One of Victoria's coworkers' friends was our appointed guide in the city, and he suggested that we take in an ayurvedic massage to relax.
Ayurvedic massages are popular in the southwestern states, using oil therapy to help unblock energy channels in the body where abhyangam, the special body massage with medicated herbal oils, is prepared according to body constitution to provide unlimited curative powers for the body and mind. The treatments are anti-ageing and provide powers for the body and mind. Victoria had never even had a massage of any kind before, so we decided to try it at a local establishment that was supposed to be highly recommended.
To me, a massage is supposed to be an experience and a delight for all the senses. Some nicely scented oils, maybe some relaxing background music, some light pampering should all be part of the package. This was.... not the case.
We were dropped off in a nondescript building and after filling out some forms we were led down the halls of what I took to be an abandoned mental asylum. We passed empty rooms with rusty beds, shredded curtains and stained doors and windows. It was like walking through the set of The Hostel, or maybe Saw V. The attendant stopped before one room and told me to change and wait for further instructions. While waiting, I looked through the grimy windows and saw we were conveniently located beside a garbage dump, with cows perusing through the rubbish. The attendant came back for me, and led me to a dark room with a wooden cot, motioning for me to lie down. The massage began. It was interesting, mostly consisting of two girl swishing some very pungent oil over all of my limbs, face and hair. I closed my eyes to stop staring at the lone bare bulb that illuminated the room and to relax. However, this only served to heighten my sense of smell, and the fact that the cows by the dump had probably just relieved themselves right outside the room. A couple more swishes, then the girls left and instructed me to close my eyes and relax. Which is hard to do when people walk in and out of the room while you're splayed out on a table in your birthday suit, or wondering when the saw will appear. A thundershower broke soon afterwards, and while showering off the oils the power went out. Needless to say, the most relaxing part of the massage came when I walked out of the door.
Ayurvedic massages are popular in the southwestern states, using oil therapy to help unblock energy channels in the body where abhyangam, the special body massage with medicated herbal oils, is prepared according to body constitution to provide unlimited curative powers for the body and mind. The treatments are anti-ageing and provide powers for the body and mind. Victoria had never even had a massage of any kind before, so we decided to try it at a local establishment that was supposed to be highly recommended.
To me, a massage is supposed to be an experience and a delight for all the senses. Some nicely scented oils, maybe some relaxing background music, some light pampering should all be part of the package. This was.... not the case.
We were dropped off in a nondescript building and after filling out some forms we were led down the halls of what I took to be an abandoned mental asylum. We passed empty rooms with rusty beds, shredded curtains and stained doors and windows. It was like walking through the set of The Hostel, or maybe Saw V. The attendant stopped before one room and told me to change and wait for further instructions. While waiting, I looked through the grimy windows and saw we were conveniently located beside a garbage dump, with cows perusing through the rubbish. The attendant came back for me, and led me to a dark room with a wooden cot, motioning for me to lie down. The massage began. It was interesting, mostly consisting of two girl swishing some very pungent oil over all of my limbs, face and hair. I closed my eyes to stop staring at the lone bare bulb that illuminated the room and to relax. However, this only served to heighten my sense of smell, and the fact that the cows by the dump had probably just relieved themselves right outside the room. A couple more swishes, then the girls left and instructed me to close my eyes and relax. Which is hard to do when people walk in and out of the room while you're splayed out on a table in your birthday suit, or wondering when the saw will appear. A thundershower broke soon afterwards, and while showering off the oils the power went out. Needless to say, the most relaxing part of the massage came when I walked out of the door.
Kerala Relaxation
If India is the land of a thousand faces, then Kerala must be the land of smiles. As soon as I stepped off the bus in the small mountain town of Munnar, I was overcome with a sense of relief. Everything about this place was different from the dusty, crowded, rapid-paced cities of northern India. The air is clearer, the trees are greener, and at the end of the day I can blow my nose with turning the tissue black from pollution.
Kerala is one the southernmost states, and has developed at its own pace separated from the rest of the country, resulting in a profusion of languages, religions and foreign cultures more evident here than anywhere else in India. The climate is perfect for creating tropical paradises of inland lakes surrounded by waving palm trees, and also for agricultural industries that bring rice, tea, rubber and coffee to the rest of the country. At 91% literacy rate, Kerala has the most educated population, which has led to the 'People's Campaign' to decentralize the government to local communities, improve public services and bring about greater caste, ethnic and gender equality.
I guess the people here know how good they have it because they're all just so darn happy all the time. Munnar in particular is filled with shopkeepers, pedestrians and roadside food vendors all grinning from ear to ear, whether or not you decline their service. Whether it was dancing by firelight to Bollywood music at a local celebration, learning to create delicious flaky parottas on sizzling woodstoves at the night market or going on a homemade chocolate sampling tour of the city, I couldn't stop smiling in Munnar either.
I was also totally unprepared for the gorgeous scenery of the town's surrounding hillsides. Tea plantations of waist-high bushes in brilliant greens make beautiful patterns etched into the mountains.
On our last day, we took a day long tour driving through the winding roads past tea, cocoa and coffee plantations, sandalwood forests and waterfalls. We ended with a trek through the Chennai Wildlife Sanctuary. After an hour of sweaty hiking and seeing nothing but animal droppings and termite mounds, the guide suddenly grabbed my arm and motioned for silence. As I looked to where his finger pointed in the distance, I saw the outline of a huge animal foraging in the trees. It was a family of wild elephants, only 200m from us. Two more emerged nearby, and you could hear their trumpeting across the entire valley. We watched them for almost 20 minutes, but the sun started setting and we had to turn back. With a heavy mist creeping up the mountains at dusk on our drive back, the scenery was even more beautiful than during our journey there.
Kerala is one the southernmost states, and has developed at its own pace separated from the rest of the country, resulting in a profusion of languages, religions and foreign cultures more evident here than anywhere else in India. The climate is perfect for creating tropical paradises of inland lakes surrounded by waving palm trees, and also for agricultural industries that bring rice, tea, rubber and coffee to the rest of the country. At 91% literacy rate, Kerala has the most educated population, which has led to the 'People's Campaign' to decentralize the government to local communities, improve public services and bring about greater caste, ethnic and gender equality.
I guess the people here know how good they have it because they're all just so darn happy all the time. Munnar in particular is filled with shopkeepers, pedestrians and roadside food vendors all grinning from ear to ear, whether or not you decline their service. Whether it was dancing by firelight to Bollywood music at a local celebration, learning to create delicious flaky parottas on sizzling woodstoves at the night market or going on a homemade chocolate sampling tour of the city, I couldn't stop smiling in Munnar either.
I was also totally unprepared for the gorgeous scenery of the town's surrounding hillsides. Tea plantations of waist-high bushes in brilliant greens make beautiful patterns etched into the mountains.
On our last day, we took a day long tour driving through the winding roads past tea, cocoa and coffee plantations, sandalwood forests and waterfalls. We ended with a trek through the Chennai Wildlife Sanctuary. After an hour of sweaty hiking and seeing nothing but animal droppings and termite mounds, the guide suddenly grabbed my arm and motioned for silence. As I looked to where his finger pointed in the distance, I saw the outline of a huge animal foraging in the trees. It was a family of wild elephants, only 200m from us. Two more emerged nearby, and you could hear their trumpeting across the entire valley. We watched them for almost 20 minutes, but the sun started setting and we had to turn back. With a heavy mist creeping up the mountains at dusk on our drive back, the scenery was even more beautiful than during our journey there.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Golden Triangle
The Jaipur-Agra-Delhi cities are often advertised as the 'golden triangle' for tourists, and a well-travelled route. With Taj Mahal in Agra being the number one tourist destination in India and Delhi as the captial, I thought that Jaipur would be packed with tourists. I have been wrong before (please see last post).
After leaving my hostel I decided to take the pedestrian route to take in the city sights, and also avoid having to hassle with rickshaw drivers for prices. This can be a problem when the ratio of drivers to pedestrians is about 20:1. During my two hour walk I failed to see any other obvious tourists on the streets, and very few women. Even dressed fairly conservatively, I could feel all eyes on me as I walked. It felt a bit like 2am closing time at Rev, except that it's broad daylight in a public place. Some people whistled and yelled 'koni-chiwa,' others zoomed past on mopeds, ten doubled back again to take a closer look.
Being that conspicuous has its advantages though. For example, my taxi driver from the night before recognized me on the street and treated me to the best 'lassi' spot in town, which is a favorite Indian yogurt dish. I can't count the number of times that people have asked me to pose for pictures with them, or of children leading me along and tugging my hands so I can meet their friends. Makes me feel special.
Anyways, so where did I end up finding all of Jaipur's tourists? MacDonalds (not so surprising, actually) and.... the movies! I thought that Mickey D's would be an interesting experience in India. I mean, do you sell Big Mac's in a country that has the world's biggest vegetarian population, including those who consider cows to be sacred? The answer is no. The menu had some interesting variations to what we find in North America, like the McAloo Tiki vegetarian burger and the Maharajah burger, which is a fancy triple decker chicken sandwich. The rest was disappointingly familiar, except 1/5 of the price.
And the movies - I caught my first Bollywood film in an actual Indian cinema! It was a pretty cool experience, mostly due to the highly interactive crowd. Indians take their cinema very seriously. As soon as the curtains are drawn, the cheering begins, and its hard not to get swept up in the movie with everyone else. The movie was called Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani. I still have no idea what it means, and neither did the other tourists around me. The entire movie was spoken in hindi, but the plot was simple enough to grasp - boy falls for girl, girl can't be with boy, they break into musicals (everyone knew the words!) and it all works out in the end. It's the most fun I've had so far on my trip and hopefully not the last that I get to enjoy for my next two weeks of travelling.
After leaving my hostel I decided to take the pedestrian route to take in the city sights, and also avoid having to hassle with rickshaw drivers for prices. This can be a problem when the ratio of drivers to pedestrians is about 20:1. During my two hour walk I failed to see any other obvious tourists on the streets, and very few women. Even dressed fairly conservatively, I could feel all eyes on me as I walked. It felt a bit like 2am closing time at Rev, except that it's broad daylight in a public place. Some people whistled and yelled 'koni-chiwa,' others zoomed past on mopeds, ten doubled back again to take a closer look.
Being that conspicuous has its advantages though. For example, my taxi driver from the night before recognized me on the street and treated me to the best 'lassi' spot in town, which is a favorite Indian yogurt dish. I can't count the number of times that people have asked me to pose for pictures with them, or of children leading me along and tugging my hands so I can meet their friends. Makes me feel special.
Anyways, so where did I end up finding all of Jaipur's tourists? MacDonalds (not so surprising, actually) and.... the movies! I thought that Mickey D's would be an interesting experience in India. I mean, do you sell Big Mac's in a country that has the world's biggest vegetarian population, including those who consider cows to be sacred? The answer is no. The menu had some interesting variations to what we find in North America, like the McAloo Tiki vegetarian burger and the Maharajah burger, which is a fancy triple decker chicken sandwich. The rest was disappointingly familiar, except 1/5 of the price.
And the movies - I caught my first Bollywood film in an actual Indian cinema! It was a pretty cool experience, mostly due to the highly interactive crowd. Indians take their cinema very seriously. As soon as the curtains are drawn, the cheering begins, and its hard not to get swept up in the movie with everyone else. The movie was called Ajab Prem ki Ghazab Kahani. I still have no idea what it means, and neither did the other tourists around me. The entire movie was spoken in hindi, but the plot was simple enough to grasp - boy falls for girl, girl can't be with boy, they break into musicals (everyone knew the words!) and it all works out in the end. It's the most fun I've had so far on my trip and hopefully not the last that I get to enjoy for my next two weeks of travelling.
Friday, November 20, 2009
After hanging out in Delhi for a few days, it was time for me to begin my travels to Rajasthan, India's largest state just east of the capital city. I was to travel to the city of Jodhpur by train, covering 600 km in ten hours, leaving at 10:30 and arriving the next morning. According to the Lonely Planet for India, 'Train travel is one of the joys of India. The network is extensive, prices are reasonable, and the experience of travelling on an Indian train is a reason to travel all by itself.' I was looking forward to this first part of my solo journey, not only because trains were definitely fit my budget (overnight trains means I don't have to pay for a place to sleep), but I always thought that trains were kind of a romantic way to travel.
My train left from an older station north of the city, and the scene that lay before me is something that will stay with me for awhile. The entranceways, floors and halls of the station were lined with sleeping bodies. Children, the elderly, the disabled, entire families, all were gathered under one roof. It was a miserable, dark and dusty place to be. Even though the station was crowded beyond belief, it was eerily silent. No hum of conversation, no laughter, not even the haggling beggars. Picking my way through the motionless crowd was like walking through a graveyard.
After reaching the sole platform, I found my sleeper class car and bade farewell to my sister. There were no doors to the trains, just an open entry way, the lights were off and most of the people in my compartment were already sound asleep, covered head to toe in thick blankets. I climbed to my spartan top bunk and read some of my Rohinton Mistry novel before drifting asleep to the sounds of the train.
A couple hours later, I woke up with a start- it was cold. Really cold. Shivering, I looked around enviously at my neighbours and their blankets, but I had picked as lightly as possible and was wearing most of my clothes. I thought that I had done most of my travel homework by consulting blogs and the Lonely Planet. They mentioned bringing a blanket to cover the benches or to substitute as a pillow for long journeys. I had brought an inflatable pillow, thinking 'haha, I'm so smart!' However, I had failed to take into account that temperatures in Rajasthan dip to 5C this time of year, and that there are no doors or fully closed windows on the trains. Curled up in the fetal position to stay warm, I wondered what I was going to do for the next six freezing hours on the train.
For some reason, I kept thinking about bedbugs, and how glad I was that at least the barren benches pretty much eliminated the chances of harbouring any nasty bugs. I had a pretty nasty experience with bedbugs while living in Toronto for co-op, and the only way of getting rid of them is by putting all your belongings in the drying machine for 45 min, or leaving them in tightly closed garbage bags to bake in the hot summer sun for several hours.
Garbage bags....that was it! I rummaged through my knapsack and found two huge Glad trashbags that I had stashed at the bottom. I quickly opened one, stuffing my legs and numbed feet into one, then tearing a hole through the other with just enough room to push my head through. The effect was almost immediate- my upper body and legs were enveloped in a synthetic, plasticky warmth from by body temperature captured by the bags. Now if only the open ends would stay shut. The solution was almost too easy. I grabbed quick-tie closures and tied them shut, sealing in the warmth.
In the morning I was pleased to discover that I had safely arrived in Jodhpur without any signs of frostbite. My pillow had completely deflated. I will be writing a letter of thanks to the good people at Glad upon my return.
I was rewarded by these views of Jodhpur 'The Blue City' from Meheranghar Fort that morning.
My train left from an older station north of the city, and the scene that lay before me is something that will stay with me for awhile. The entranceways, floors and halls of the station were lined with sleeping bodies. Children, the elderly, the disabled, entire families, all were gathered under one roof. It was a miserable, dark and dusty place to be. Even though the station was crowded beyond belief, it was eerily silent. No hum of conversation, no laughter, not even the haggling beggars. Picking my way through the motionless crowd was like walking through a graveyard.
After reaching the sole platform, I found my sleeper class car and bade farewell to my sister. There were no doors to the trains, just an open entry way, the lights were off and most of the people in my compartment were already sound asleep, covered head to toe in thick blankets. I climbed to my spartan top bunk and read some of my Rohinton Mistry novel before drifting asleep to the sounds of the train.
A couple hours later, I woke up with a start- it was cold. Really cold. Shivering, I looked around enviously at my neighbours and their blankets, but I had picked as lightly as possible and was wearing most of my clothes. I thought that I had done most of my travel homework by consulting blogs and the Lonely Planet. They mentioned bringing a blanket to cover the benches or to substitute as a pillow for long journeys. I had brought an inflatable pillow, thinking 'haha, I'm so smart!' However, I had failed to take into account that temperatures in Rajasthan dip to 5C this time of year, and that there are no doors or fully closed windows on the trains. Curled up in the fetal position to stay warm, I wondered what I was going to do for the next six freezing hours on the train.For some reason, I kept thinking about bedbugs, and how glad I was that at least the barren benches pretty much eliminated the chances of harbouring any nasty bugs. I had a pretty nasty experience with bedbugs while living in Toronto for co-op, and the only way of getting rid of them is by putting all your belongings in the drying machine for 45 min, or leaving them in tightly closed garbage bags to bake in the hot summer sun for several hours.
Garbage bags....that was it! I rummaged through my knapsack and found two huge Glad trashbags that I had stashed at the bottom. I quickly opened one, stuffing my legs and numbed feet into one, then tearing a hole through the other with just enough room to push my head through. The effect was almost immediate- my upper body and legs were enveloped in a synthetic, plasticky warmth from by body temperature captured by the bags. Now if only the open ends would stay shut. The solution was almost too easy. I grabbed quick-tie closures and tied them shut, sealing in the warmth.
In the morning I was pleased to discover that I had safely arrived in Jodhpur without any signs of frostbite. My pillow had completely deflated. I will be writing a letter of thanks to the good people at Glad upon my return.
I was rewarded by these views of Jodhpur 'The Blue City' from Meheranghar Fort that morning.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Planning for Takeoff
I'm sitting in Terminal 2 of the Changi Airport in Singapore. While taking advantage of the free leather massage chairs, surrounded by views of cascading waterfalls emptying into peaceful koi ponds, I can finally unwind and reflect on the events that transpired today to bring me here.
I booked my plane tickets to India a couple of weeks ago on a total whim, the deciding factors being the India Airfare sale going on, combined with the fact that if I didn't visit my little sister (who's doing an internship in New Delhi) for her last week in the country, chances are I wouldn't be able to see any of my family for the next 18 months, a thought that's tough for me to handle. The cheapest fares happened to coincide with the day of my last exam. Perfect! What better way to celebrate the end of my first term in Australia? Several days later, my travel agent contacted me to say he found even better tickets with a sweet airline (Singapore Airlines) and a much shorter layover. Awesome right? The more time I get in India, the more bonding time I get with mini V-Ho.
Fast forward to Sunday evening as I'm going over final exam notes, when I get a phonecall from someone who sounds like they're hosting a Japanese gameshow. After a few seconds I realize its a Korean exchange student looking for a tutor to practise conversational English. Her and a friend are willing to pay $20/hr for 10 hrs, which would pretty much solve my money situation for the rest of the break. The only catch is that they want to meet before I leave for three weeks, to which I agree because it sounds perfectly feasible. Which leads me to today's events (best read while listening to Stress by Justice):
6:30 am - Wake up, eat 6 bowls of cereal, shower (a totally pointless task, I would soon discover) 7:30 am - Leave house to walk to school
7:31 am - Being Australian summer, it is already 31C and I am covered in sweat
8:00 am - I sit down and commence my final exam
9:00 am - I'm finished! With 30 minutes to spare! Wooooo! India here I come!
9:15 am - Walk to my friends house for a farewell breakfast. I arrive covered in sweat.
10:30 am - Run home, pick up my pre-packed bags and rush out to catch a bus to the city.
11:00 am - I have been waiting for the bus while wearing my travel pack in the hot sun for 5 minutes already. My bag is soaked with sweat.
11:30 am - Meet with the Korean girls for an hour-long, high-pitched, giggly and semi-productive conversation. I get the job!
12:30 pm - Leave the library to catch the 12:41 airtrain to the airport
12:35 pm - Hmmm this walk was longer than I thought it would be...
12:38 pm - Reach central station and the lights are flashing the 3 min countdown for the airtrain
12:39: pm - I'm almost at Platform 3 when I encounter a sign saying 'escalators are closed. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please find an alternate route.' Interesting...
12:40 pm - I locate another set of stairs and FLY through them, just in time to ease through the closing doors of the airtrain
1:20 pm - Arrive at Brisbane International Terminal and check in
1:45 pm - Boarding for flight SQ236 begins
2:45pm - Take off. The best part? I'm on the plane.
This post was meant to put my parents at ease. India should be a breeze.
-Aiport Planner Extraordinaire
I booked my plane tickets to India a couple of weeks ago on a total whim, the deciding factors being the India Airfare sale going on, combined with the fact that if I didn't visit my little sister (who's doing an internship in New Delhi) for her last week in the country, chances are I wouldn't be able to see any of my family for the next 18 months, a thought that's tough for me to handle. The cheapest fares happened to coincide with the day of my last exam. Perfect! What better way to celebrate the end of my first term in Australia? Several days later, my travel agent contacted me to say he found even better tickets with a sweet airline (Singapore Airlines) and a much shorter layover. Awesome right? The more time I get in India, the more bonding time I get with mini V-Ho.
Fast forward to Sunday evening as I'm going over final exam notes, when I get a phonecall from someone who sounds like they're hosting a Japanese gameshow. After a few seconds I realize its a Korean exchange student looking for a tutor to practise conversational English. Her and a friend are willing to pay $20/hr for 10 hrs, which would pretty much solve my money situation for the rest of the break. The only catch is that they want to meet before I leave for three weeks, to which I agree because it sounds perfectly feasible. Which leads me to today's events (best read while listening to Stress by Justice):
6:30 am - Wake up, eat 6 bowls of cereal, shower (a totally pointless task, I would soon discover) 7:30 am - Leave house to walk to school
7:31 am - Being Australian summer, it is already 31C and I am covered in sweat
8:00 am - I sit down and commence my final exam
9:00 am - I'm finished! With 30 minutes to spare! Wooooo! India here I come!
9:15 am - Walk to my friends house for a farewell breakfast. I arrive covered in sweat.
10:30 am - Run home, pick up my pre-packed bags and rush out to catch a bus to the city.
11:00 am - I have been waiting for the bus while wearing my travel pack in the hot sun for 5 minutes already. My bag is soaked with sweat.
11:30 am - Meet with the Korean girls for an hour-long, high-pitched, giggly and semi-productive conversation. I get the job!
12:30 pm - Leave the library to catch the 12:41 airtrain to the airport
12:35 pm - Hmmm this walk was longer than I thought it would be...
12:38 pm - Reach central station and the lights are flashing the 3 min countdown for the airtrain
12:39: pm - I'm almost at Platform 3 when I encounter a sign saying 'escalators are closed. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please find an alternate route.' Interesting...
12:40 pm - I locate another set of stairs and FLY through them, just in time to ease through the closing doors of the airtrain
1:20 pm - Arrive at Brisbane International Terminal and check in
1:45 pm - Boarding for flight SQ236 begins
2:45pm - Take off. The best part? I'm on the plane.
This post was meant to put my parents at ease. India should be a breeze.
-Aiport Planner Extraordinaire
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