OK here we go with the first try from a public computer her in India. 1st problem is that most of the keys have been worn blank and the layout is slightly different than the normal layout.
OK here we go with the second try from a public computer her in India. I had just finished when I lost the lot.
I can't recall all the pithy and incisive remarks I had made on my first go, so I will have to try and do it all again. Hyderabad Airport is exactly like an Indian airport should be. It is a shinning, modern edifice, named for a great Indian politician staffed and run on the post Raj Indian railways style. There are legions of men in a multitude of uniforms scattered on plastic garden furniture around the concourse. Are they there to hide the stains which are already appearing on the walls or do they have a real purpose? What do they do with all those little pieces of paper which they make us fill in? And how do they get them all into that ancient filling cupboard in the corner? The rudeness of the man organising the queue for the immigration counter is spectacular and he saves his best invective for any hapless Indian who fails to understand his English. Immigration complete I go to the over sized luggage counter to confirm that my bike has not made the journey. There follows 40 minutes of form filling and stamping of papers for me to receive a receipt for my bike which I haven't got. I walk blank-eyed past the customs men who are enjoying exploring the other passengers baggage and out into the large atrium. The sounds of insects and birds roosting in the beams great me, as does that particular smell which is India! I love it!
A young bloke asks if I want a Taxi and rather than say no and use a pre-paid taxi I say yes. His taxi is an ancient Hyundai without a meter -of course - and we set off to look for a hotel. He is an agreeable young chap and after a chai stop he drops me at the hotel I chose opposite the railway station. I always find this is a good wheeze as if I get lost and forget the hotels name I only need to find the station. Good room. Great chai and snacks by the station. Biriani restaurant next door. It's bloody marvellous!
OK here we go with the second try from a public computer her in India. I had just finished when I lost the lot.
I can't recall all the pithy and incisive remarks I had made on my first go, so I will have to try and do it all again. Hyderabad Airport is exactly like an Indian airport should be. It is a shinning, modern edifice, named for a great Indian politician staffed and run on the post Raj Indian railways style. There are legions of men in a multitude of uniforms scattered on plastic garden furniture around the concourse. Are they there to hide the stains which are already appearing on the walls or do they have a real purpose? What do they do with all those little pieces of paper which they make us fill in? And how do they get them all into that ancient filling cupboard in the corner? The rudeness of the man organising the queue for the immigration counter is spectacular and he saves his best invective for any hapless Indian who fails to understand his English. Immigration complete I go to the over sized luggage counter to confirm that my bike has not made the journey. There follows 40 minutes of form filling and stamping of papers for me to receive a receipt for my bike which I haven't got. I walk blank-eyed past the customs men who are enjoying exploring the other passengers baggage and out into the large atrium. The sounds of insects and birds roosting in the beams great me, as does that particular smell which is India! I love it!
A young bloke asks if I want a Taxi and rather than say no and use a pre-paid taxi I say yes. His taxi is an ancient Hyundai without a meter -of course - and we set off to look for a hotel. He is an agreeable young chap and after a chai stop he drops me at the hotel I chose opposite the railway station. I always find this is a good wheeze as if I get lost and forget the hotels name I only need to find the station. Good room. Great chai and snacks by the station. Biriani restaurant next door. It's bloody marvellous!
Brahmin Priest.
Coucou l'aventurier !
ReplyDeleteAngie nous a envoyé un mail pour donner de vos news... Je l'ai appelé aussitôt!
- Vous avez aménagé dans votre nouvelle maison!!! Wonderfull !
- Toi,tu es partir pour 1 mois en Inde et on bike , alone!!! Waouh!!! GENIAL !
Pendant ce temps, les enfants ont repris le chemin du collège pour Léonie, ma so pretty girl ! et le Lycée en pension pour Jacques, la force tranquille ...
Avec toutes les qualité qu'ils ont, ils ne peuvent que réussir !!!
On leur souhaite une belle année scolaire 2012-2013!
Alors pendant un mois je vais reprendre mes leçons d'anglais avec mon prof préféré: Andrew!
Nous allons être du voyage... !
Merci de partager cela !
Aimer voyager, c'est aussi aimer les voyages des autres.... ;-)
Quand tu écris:
.."The sounds of insects and birds roosting in the beams great me, as does that particular smell which is India! "...
Nous te répondons:
We also love it !!!
Ton First Try, nous fait bien "feel" ce que tu ressens... nous sommes avec toi !
"Take care, of course!", mais "enjoy your trip!" c'est une belle expérience que tu vas vivre là, avec son lot de joies et de doutes... mais qui ne sera que plus enrichissante !
Loin d'Angie et des enfants... ton cœur sera à 2 vitesses, mais il sera encore plus grand quand tu les retrouveras !
Ici, l'automne pointe le bout de son nez... les problèmes sont toujours les mêmes....mais après tout,on s'en fou!
Allez un peu de philosophie !
"Je réponds ordinairement à ceux qui me demandent raison de mes voyages que je sais bien ce que je fuis, et non pas ce que je cherche."(Montaigne)
On t'embrasse bien fort.
On a hâte de te lire!!!
Salut. Je suis tres content a te faire pararger mon voyage. je t'embrasse tres fort. Andrew.
DeleteAu fait !
ReplyDeleteDon't forget pictures !!!
Et on en veut pleins !