On my last day in Sri Lanka I went to the post office. I posted about 2kg of stuff to myself in the UK. I figured this would lighten and empty my bag a bit which would help me get it on as carry on luggage. I’ve done 2.5 months of travelling with a 35 litre bag and not had to check it in so far. I knew I had a couple of bits of duty-free to pick up and didn’t want to be burdened with too much luggage. I also wanted to get out of Heathrow as quickly as possible to get straight on a coach back to Cambridge. So the post office and I made friends.
I left Colombo at 3am. I got picked up from my guest house by a lovely man in a taxi. Since there was no traffic we got the airport by 3:30. Too early, but it is Sri Lanka. Too early is much better than too late.
I sat around the airport reading for ages before they opened check-in. I checked in with no problems. Went through immigration. Found a bookshop and bought a trashy crime novel to read on the plane. Found the duty-free shop and bought the two bottles of arrack that had been on my to-do list for three months. Found my gate. Got on the plane. Settled in.
3.5 hours later I was in Delhi. Yay.
Originally, I was going to have about 3 hours wait at Delhi. So I figured I could fire up my laptop in one of the lounges, have a cup of tea, do some typing, or watch a film, or listen to music, or read a book, or something. A couple of days before my flight I got notification that the flight from Delhi to London was going to leave early. So I now only had an hour at Delhi. And I would get in to London much earlier too. Nice one!
So anyway, I’d made it to Delhi. And all I had to do was go through the international transfers section and find my next gate. That’s cool. It just involves a security check (bag x-ray and a stamp on the tag you must have on your carry on bag) and a body search (magic wand and pat down). That’s alright. It shouldn’t take too long. Especially not if all the systems are in correct working order. And hey, this is a major international airport with thousands of passengers going through it every day. There’s no possible way that a power cut (in India) could cause the x-ray machines to go down and the queue (well, I say ‘queue’) of passengers (all now getting later and later for their flights) to back up. Hmmm.
So there’s a massive queue. There are about 5 or 6 flights all leaving within 10 mins of each other and all due to start boarding within the next half hour. Now, I probably should have been a bit worried. I didn’t have any bags checked all the way through to London. I’m guessing everyone else did. Which means they really had no reason to worry. Not quite sure why people hadn’t figured out that the planes wouldn’t leave without any passengers. Not quite sure why people thought that they and their flight was more urgent than the other 300 people on the same flight or on a flight leaving around about the same time as them. Not quite sure why people thought that pushing was a nice, pleasant thing to do. Not quite sure why the 30 or so people who overtook me in a queue that wasn’t moving thought that that was reasonable behaviour. But they did.
Ah well. Deep breath. You’re in the system that is air travel. Once you’re in the system, there’s not much you can do about anything. You just have to breathe, smile, resist the urge to punch people or scream, not make jokes about security, and just put your faith and trust in the people who run these systems all day, every day.
We got up to the now working x-ray machines and the girls went into one line and the boys into another. There were three people doing the pat downs. Two men and one woman. The woman called the waiting women one at a time into the curtained-off booth. The men had to be subjected to pat-downs in public. I really wanted to join the boys’ queue since it was moving much faster. But I figured that trying to do that might well cause an international incident. And anyway, I was concentrating on breathing deeply and remaining calm.
It was finally my turn. So I went through the metal detector and behind the screen. The female security officer there started waving her magic wand over me (is it metal detector, chemical detector, magic wand, what?) and asked me if I was a lady. Well yes. The breasts you’ve just groped should probably give you a hint. She then decided that with a massive queue of people outside running late for their flights that this was a perfectly appropriate time for small talk. No I’m not American (the British passport and boarding card for London should have given that away – not nearly as observant as I think I would like from a security officer in a major international airport). And no, I don’t speak Hindi. Sorry.
I then hotfooted it through the shopping area and to my gate. I didn’t actually recognise any of the people who’d pushed past me in the queue, but I am fairly sure that having elbowed me out of the way in their desperate rush to not miss their flight, some of them were browsing the gift shop. Hmmm.
Got to the gate. Got on to the plane. Found my seat. Threw my bag in the overhead compartment. Collapsed into my seat with my book and got settled. Ah.
Then we got an announcement saying that three passengers from Nepal had not got on the flight and so their luggage had to be located and taken off the plane (it’s a big plane you know). So that meant we’d missed our slot on the runway. That’s ok. We’d take the next available one. Just as soon as Indian airspace re-opened after the military manoeuvres that were being done. It’s ok. It’ll only be an hour and half of sitting on the tarmac waiting. But don’t worry, the cabin crew are about to serve lunch.
I did see some people running on to the plane a bit later on with large trays of what would turn out to be cheese and tomato sandwhiches. Which did answer my question of whether they’d need to give us an extra meal when we were airborne.
The flight, once we eventually got airborne, was fine. A bit of turbulence. But nothing major. The window blinds were all down and the lights were all off, which was a bit annoying because I was meant to be staying awake on this leg. It’s daytime in the UK and my body needs to start practicing being in the right timezone.
I did nap a bit but mostly read and watched tv and films. Had to stop both of those activities when my eyeballs started hurting.
We got in to London and I dashed off the plane, quick trip to the loo, went through the magic automatic barriers for people with passports with chips. The scary machine takes a photo of you (presumably compares the biometrics with those embedded in the chip on your passport, presumably is more accurate than a human would be) and eventually beeps to let you through. All very efficient (which I approve of).
I dashed off to the coach station and got a ticket to Cambridge.
I got the shuttle bus from the terminal I was at to the one I needed to be at.
I had just enough time to get a cup of tea, bottle of sparkling water and a cheese and tomato panini. Awesome!
Got a seat on the coach with my bag on my knee. Put on the SEATBELT. Wa! And settled in to enjoying coach travel in the UK.
It was nice to be back. A bit weird that it was after 7 and there was still daylight floating around. And I must say that the scenery from Sri Lankan and Indian buses is much more interesting than that from British buses. But that’s due to less motorway in Sri Lanka and India. Not that I’m complaining. It was very nice to be sitting on a coach and not having to hold on to things. I didn’t get any bus bruises from the trip. It was smooth, comfortable, fast and lovely.
I got in to Cambridge and Matt picked me up to drive me back to his place. So I got home at about midnight.
Having left my guest house at 3am in a timezone 4.5 hours away, that means it took me about 25.5 hours to get from Colombo to Cambridge. And only 12 of that was actual flight time. 3 hours was on the bus. 30 mins in a cars and taxis. The rest was waiting around.
But much as I loved being away (and I’m looking forward to my next trip already), it was really very nice to be home (for some definition of home).

