Normally, I would not start a story about a trip abroad by dragging you through extraneous flight details. Only if, say, something drastic and important happened there would I stop to tell you about how I happened to get from Airport A, to Airport B, and whether or not there were peanuts.
But I must, in telling you about India, mention the indelible experience of Air India, so buckle up, babies. Here we go.
If you have never had the pleasure of flying with Air India, let me briefly describe for you my first experience with them. I took a flight from Newark to Paris during college, my first solo trip. The stewardess were shockingly, appallingly rude. They angrily ignored all pleas and concerns until meal time, when they went around punching the headrests to wake sleeping passengers and screaming, "You want lamb. LAMB?? LAMB??" which I accepted, groggy and cowering, only to have a hot plate of curry and a lumpy rock of mutton slopped in front my sleep crusted eyes. After being so roundly abused, I vowed to never again fly with them.
But when I went to book my flight to Delhi, they sucked me in by undercutting competitor prices by at least $300.00. I decided to sacrifice common courtesy for cash, vowed not to sleep until after the meal was served, and bring my own water, so that I didn't have to make any special requests.
But oh, Air India, you threw me a curve ball. Those tricky bastards did the one thing that would have made me reconsider my decision in a heartbeat.
They went on strike.
I sh*t you not. Less than a week before take off, I received a notice from Orbitz, letting me know my fantasy of sharing a coconut with a baby monkey by the side of the Ganges was about to be completely derailed by the suddenly, unexpected and un-refunded cancellation of my flight.
CRAP.
Re-buying the ticket was not feasible. Missing the trip was unfathomable. So I did the reasonable thing...fell into a slump, punctuated by bursts of manic flight status checking, and reading the India Times for updates on the strike.
The strike did not miraculously end, but my flight wasn't cancelled either. So I went to the airport, rigid with nerves. So far, so good. I checked before I left. Not cancelled. Not cancelled, thank goodness.
Except...
When I got to the airport, I found out that my flight was...delayed. By 2 hours. I was so nervous that I spent the extra 2 hours by the gate, debating whether or not to go grab a cocktail. I didn't, deciding that being sloshed couldn't possibly help the situation, so I just had to suck it up.
And then finally,
finally,
"Air India flight 317 to Hong Kong with service to Delhi is now boarding."
Sweet Mother of Applesauce. Thank you, thank you, THANK you.
Woozy with relief, I snuck on the plane amid the first class and business class passengers. I knocked back a few chapters on my kindle until slightly after take off when the pilot-performing-stewardess duties came around offering the most wonderful, amazing thing.
Spicy fried peanuts!
After nearly 10 months of being inundated with soysauce and red pepper paste, pickling all foods into the one flavor that is Korea, I crunched down my peanuts with pure enjoyment, blissfully unworried about whether my seat partner had a peanut allergy.
Curry. Peanut. Spice.
India, here I come.
But I must, in telling you about India, mention the indelible experience of Air India, so buckle up, babies. Here we go.
If you have never had the pleasure of flying with Air India, let me briefly describe for you my first experience with them. I took a flight from Newark to Paris during college, my first solo trip. The stewardess were shockingly, appallingly rude. They angrily ignored all pleas and concerns until meal time, when they went around punching the headrests to wake sleeping passengers and screaming, "You want lamb. LAMB?? LAMB??" which I accepted, groggy and cowering, only to have a hot plate of curry and a lumpy rock of mutton slopped in front my sleep crusted eyes. After being so roundly abused, I vowed to never again fly with them.
But when I went to book my flight to Delhi, they sucked me in by undercutting competitor prices by at least $300.00. I decided to sacrifice common courtesy for cash, vowed not to sleep until after the meal was served, and bring my own water, so that I didn't have to make any special requests.
But oh, Air India, you threw me a curve ball. Those tricky bastards did the one thing that would have made me reconsider my decision in a heartbeat.
They went on strike.
I sh*t you not. Less than a week before take off, I received a notice from Orbitz, letting me know my fantasy of sharing a coconut with a baby monkey by the side of the Ganges was about to be completely derailed by the suddenly, unexpected and un-refunded cancellation of my flight.
CRAP.
Re-buying the ticket was not feasible. Missing the trip was unfathomable. So I did the reasonable thing...fell into a slump, punctuated by bursts of manic flight status checking, and reading the India Times for updates on the strike.
The strike did not miraculously end, but my flight wasn't cancelled either. So I went to the airport, rigid with nerves. So far, so good. I checked before I left. Not cancelled. Not cancelled, thank goodness.
Except...
When I got to the airport, I found out that my flight was...delayed. By 2 hours. I was so nervous that I spent the extra 2 hours by the gate, debating whether or not to go grab a cocktail. I didn't, deciding that being sloshed couldn't possibly help the situation, so I just had to suck it up.
And then finally,
finally,
"Air India flight 317 to Hong Kong with service to Delhi is now boarding."
Sweet Mother of Applesauce. Thank you, thank you, THANK you.
Woozy with relief, I snuck on the plane amid the first class and business class passengers. I knocked back a few chapters on my kindle until slightly after take off when the pilot-performing-stewardess duties came around offering the most wonderful, amazing thing.
Spicy fried peanuts!
After nearly 10 months of being inundated with soysauce and red pepper paste, pickling all foods into the one flavor that is Korea, I crunched down my peanuts with pure enjoyment, blissfully unworried about whether my seat partner had a peanut allergy.
Curry. Peanut. Spice.
India, here I come.
5 quirky quips:
Some of my favorite destinations in India during summer are Goa and Kerala.
OMG!! That's too much to take but I'm glad your trip wasn't canceled & the peanuts were delish!! I hope you got a 2nd pack!!
Frances
Oh, I did. :)
LOL!!!
frances
I'd love to score some discount business class tickets, too. Spicy peanuts are welcome too.
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