It took me 24 hours to get from the Four Seasons to my flat. This is, I think, because I chose a particularly weird route, for reasons which made sense at the time. So I flew from Hong Kong to Delhi then Delhi to Mumbai. I know it's a weird route because no-one that I could see did the same thing. I had been looking forward, sort of, to the delights of the Celebrations Lounge in Mumbai's transit terminal, where I could pass my several hours' wait getting free tea and being out of earshot of the spectacularly loud PA system. But the price has outrageously been doubled since July to $24 and no amount of nice couches or free massage chairs is worth condoning such price hikes.
Then, Mumbai to London. The flight was two hours late. Officially, this was “for operational reasons.” In fact, one gate person said, “it's because they can't do the security fast enough.” During the course of my 24 hour trip, I have had to relinquish:
Simon's bacterial hand wash, of which I have fond memories relating to Chinese service station toilets.
A bottle of Nivea deodorant, which I was dearly regretting by the time I reached Paddington, and the taxi driver offered me his flannel. I said I wouldn't inflict my smell on his flannel, and he said, “Oh, I wasn't going to ask for it back.”
And one bottle of Otomize ear spray, though I haven't had a single episode of ear infection since I left London, after having them every day for months here. Possibly something to do with that woman at Number Two People's Hospital and her very large syringe.
Air India has good food and crap films. Apple computers have crap batteries. Half of Waterloo Bridge and a quarter of Sabrina later, I gave up watching DVDs and watched the route map instead, which I find oddly comforting. Not as comforting as the Diazepam I am prescribed for flying, but a second best. On Air India, the map was always followed by a page saying in very large letters “Geographical map only. This map does not suggest political boundaries.” I presume this is to divert any air rage of Pakistanis looking at the Kashmir section with a magnifying glass.
Since I've been back, I have done the following, for which only the Italian word “rincoglionita” (a combination of but yet much more than spaced/stupid/ditzy) serves:
Gone to sleep for an hour's nap at 3pm and woken up at midnight.
Neglected to call my mother because I went to sleep for an hour's nap at 3pm and woke up at midnight. (Sorry, mother.)
Misplaced £15
Booked two train tickets up north instead of one, costing me an extra £71.60 on top of the outrageous GNER ticket price. Oh, I know there's no point comparing the criminally high ticket prices here and the $50 price for the Z5. But I can't help it. Either GNER needs to be sold to China Railways, or the BLT should be replaced by noodle soup with preserved vegetables, and train greeters with white gloves.
My China pictures will be up online soon, somewhere or other. Meanwhile, here are a man and a monkey, at rest in Guangzhou.
