Day 94-96 & 99-100*: Trains, Planes and Automobiles
*-The interior two days deserve their own post.
Tis a story about three trips, three flights, two bus rides,
one train ride and more issues with luggage than anyone should have to face in
their life.
Let’s go Chronologically, shall we:
Part I: The Train
Ride
Tokyo Narita airport is not close to anything else in
Tokyo’s city center. I’m still not quite sure if it is located to the North,
South, East or West of Tokyo proper. Since cab rides are dangerously expensive
in Tokyo (quick note – hint to Tokyo cab companies: more people would take your
cabs if you reduced the fare, which is easily done if you stop mandating the
drivers wear suits and the doors of the car be automatic), many people go to
Narita by train. There are roughly thirty different train options to reach
Narita, and I chose the Keisei Line Skyliner Express, with service to Narita
(I’m not sure where the ‘Skyliner’ name comes from – the train only runs from
Ueno to Narita). I got up early and took a cab to Nippori station and then
waited for the Keisei Skyliner. I have no complaints at all with the train,
which was, on the inside, as grand if not grander than any of the Shinkansen
Bullet trains I took. Each seat had AC power. Each seat had AC (air
conditioning). Each seat reclined a good deal. And this is all on a train where
the maximum travel time in 45 minutes (Ueno station to Narita’s International
Terminal 2). I left the train after a short sleep and walked into Narita
Airport, sad to leave the cooler air of Narita and return to the heat and
humidity of Southeast Asia.
Part II: Plane Flight
#1 (Tokyo Narita and All Nippon Airways)
I already gave my praise for both Narita (which I named my 2nd
favorite International Airport – after Singapore Changi) and All Nippon (which
I named my 5th favorite International Airline). In that piece, I
spoke more about generalities, while here I’ll go into a little more detail.
Narita airport is really designed in an American style. Instead of giant, empty,
hollow concourses and terminals, Narita’s are full, packed with rows of seats
and shops and restaurants. There are no separate transit waiting rooms that
lock you in a good thirty minutes before you board (something present in most
airports I’ve been to in Asia). There was a nice bar which, because of the
time, was mainly serving people breakfast, but also serving a ton of beer. The
prices were more than reasonable for an airport bathroom, so how could I not
take advantage. I had a ‘cream top’ beer, which may have even exceeded Asahi
Black in my mind. It was supposedly not a craft beer, but I hadn’t seen it
anywhere, much to my dismay. From my window table at the bar, I saw many planes
fly off into the clear blue sky.
All Nippon Airways, unlike basically every airline in the
world, allowed me to check in two suitcases, no questions asked, which after
the debacle in Melbourne gave me so much glee. Of course, they’re changing this
rule in another month or so and join the other cash-grabbing airlines in the 21st
Century. All Nippon has a modern fleet (no Airbus A380 – because they mainly
stick to just airbus planes), but despite this being a high-quality route
(Tokyo to Bangkok – the largest East-Asian economic center to the 5th
largest), but they chose to put an Boeing 767-300 on the route. Plane
enthusiasts (like myself) know that this isn’t exactly a modern plane, but All
Nippon, one of the best regarded airlines in the world, made the most of it.
They had small little TV screens (because the seats on that
plane aren’t the biggest), but they were filled with a decent, if not large,
selection of movies. Deciding to be brave, I chose the Japanese meal instead of
the Western Meal, and while it wasn’t bad, it was decidedly Japanese, and not
in the Sushi/Japanese Korean-BBQ way. I didn’t like traditional Japanese food
apart from those two before, and I still don’t. They did have ice cold Asahi,
and it was nice to have one more before I leave Japan. We arrived at the big
house in Bangkok, where I would have to endure the most grating part of my
trip, a 6-hour layover.
Part III: Plane
Flight #2 (Bangkok Suvurnabhumi Airport, Thai Airways, Bengaluru International
Airport)
The six hour layover in Bangkok wasn’t the longest I’ve ever
had. I had an 8-hour layover in Hong Kong on a marathon trip to India in 2003
(New York to Vancouver to Hong Kong to Bangkok to Mumbai to Bangalore; total
time = way too long to count without a calculator). There are few airport where
I would take a six hour layover without any complaint, and Bangkok is not one
of them. The one thing I take away from my six hours is I finally know how to
pronounce Suvurnabhumi, but I would rather have six hours of my life back than
knowing that random fact.
Bangkok’s airport, much like Hong Kong’s where I had to
endure those eight hours, is giant, but soulless. All there is are long
hallways with high walls and concrete all around you. There is a giant
duty-free shopping area. It’s actually more apt to call it a mall, as it has
any high-priced luxury brand store I could think of. The only problem is this
mall is located above the gate area of the airport, in the area connecting one
half of the airport to the other, stretching nearly a KM long. The restaurants
are bunched to either end of this area. I had lunch here, with a nice Duck Red
Curry, for what I thought was a reasonable price. Later in my six hours, I went
to another restaurant and had two beers, for again what I thought was a
reasonable price. It was only when I saw my bill that I realized that it wasn’t
that reasonable of a price. When I went to Bangkok in 2003, the exchange rate,
from what I remember, was about 40 baht for one dollar. When I went earlier
this year, it was about 30 baht for one dollar. Of course, I decided to
completely forget about the more recent rate and go with the old rate, so I
ended up spending more than I wanted to.
The flight from Bangkok to Bangalore was OK, like most of my
Thai Airways flights. The beer again wasn’t too cold (I don’t know why I just
don’t ask for whiskey instead – something I assuredly will do at some point on
my long haul home). The other problem was that they ran out of their meat dish
right before they got to me. Actually, let me clarify, when I asked for the
meat dish, the guy responded that they need to warm it up. He proceeded to
serve meat to another few passengers and seemingly forgot about me. By the time
they did, they ran out of the meat. The veg meal was decent, and the meat was
just chicken, so I didn’t lose too much in the end. I watched some movie I now
forget, slept for a bit, and arrived in Bangalore. The flight was a lot shorter
than I expected, as Bangkok is a lot closer to Bangalore than I thought.
My final baggage experience was customs in Bangalore. First,
it took the opposite of a New York Minute for my two bags to arrive. I often
worry when I have a long layover if my bags will come. I was worried about my
bags arriving in Melbourne after having almost the entire day in Singapore. Six
hours isn’t really that long when compared to my time in Singapore, but this
time I was changing airlines, which added another variable into the mix. Then,
when exiting through customs I was asked to have my bags screened. I wondered
why, but went along, because I had nothing to hide.
It turns out I did, as I was bringing in too much alcohol
than what is legally allowed (or allowed without duty taxes, a theory I don’t
understand fully). I had two bottles of wine and six small bottles of beer,
which I guess is (well) over two litres. The customs guy told me I would be
taxed a shit-load, but if I gave Rs. 1000, I could leave. I wasn’t quite sure
if he was asking for a bribe right now, because he was doing it with all the
subtlety of a baboon, but he was. When I loudly exclaimed that I would give him
his 1,000, but I need to draw, he let me go. Although I had basically verbally
out-ed his bribery, I was surprised how easily he let me go, but was grateful.
I may experience a similar fate when I arrive in the US, but at least I know I
won’t be given the option of a bribe, for better or for worse.
Part IV: Plane Flight #3 (luggage issues, mostly)
*-Quick note, I’ve decided to talk about the bus ride when I
talk about the days in between, where the bus rides occurred. Mostly because a
lot of what went on those few days aren’t really writable.
One of my favorite things in India used to be its domestic
air travel. Jet Airways and the now defunct Indian Airlines used to serve meals
on flights that lasted 90 minutes. Kingfisher did basically the same before Vijay
Mallya incredibly poor management finally killed the airline (there’s a reason
why you shouldn’t buy A380’s years before you get them when you only fly
domestically). Now, with the expansion of the low-cost services of Indigo,
SpiceJet and Go Air, that has all changed. Luggage restrictions have now reared
their ugly head in India as well, with most airlines very recently reducing
their free check baggage amount to 15 KGs. Luckily, I booked my ticket before
the switch so I was entitled to 20 KGs free. Of course, I was bringing about 50
KGs, or 23 KGs extra.
Like most airlines, IndiGo lets you pre-book excess baggage,
a fact which I hadn’t seen. Now, IndiGo went to great lengths to hide the fact
that if you have a connecting International flight within 24 hours they let you
take all the baggage the international flight is allowing (two suitcases of 23
kg’s). Of course, I am not taking an international flight within 24 hours, so
the fact that they literally do not tell you that information anywhere on their
website is meaningless. Anyway, they did say in their website that prebooked
excess baggage is charged at a considerably lower rate, and they said it right
before they said that excess baggage at the airport is charged at Rs. 250 / kg.
Somehow, I missed the pre-book rate, and focused on that large, glaring,
daunting Rs. 250 rate.
That led to a series of phone calls, research assignments
given to my cousins in India, perilous hours deciding what clothes to throw
onto the next poor lad to come from India to the US to bring for me, and the
whole lot. In the end, I had whittled it down to either putting it on a bus for
about 3,000 ruppees, or taking the 16 kgs to the airport, risking having to pay
the 4,000 ruppees with the hope that I could finagle some business passenger
without a checked bag to check it in for me. Because of my facial hair and
long, unkempt hair on top of my head, this wasn’t very likely.
Then, my Uncle’s wife saw those pre-booked rates, and that
opened up an entirely new cost-effective avenue. When we called the airline to
try to pre-book baggage, Vishek (the man who answered the call) told us about
the international connection rule after I tried to whine my way into a slightly
more discounted discount than they were willing to give. Hearing this, I
decided to pass the mic over to my Uncle’s wife to try to concoct some story
about why I needed the three days in Mumbai, and try to guilt Vishek into
giving me the international connection bonus. She wasn’t able to pull it off,
which isn’t too surprising since I miss the 24-hour cutoff by about 60.
Anyway, that leads to the final bit of ridiculousness, the
drive to the airport. We left a little later than I had wanted, and then I left
my contacts behind. My Uncle noticed and phoned us to come back pretty soon,
but the traffic in Bangalore was at its Bangalorean worst. Of course, the road
to the airport is set up in a way where hitting 80 km is about impossible,
making me really, truly feel like I was going to miss the flight. I was so sure
that I was missing it that I even informed my Dad of my situation, basically
ensuring a (mostly deserved) lecture. It was all for naught after I gave a
little sob story to the girl behind the counter. For the second time at
Bengaluru International Airport, I was ushered in a small car to the plane
after the rest of the passengers had boarded by bus, only I was far from the
last passenger. I’m not sure where these other people were, but it makes me
feel better that I wasn’t even the fifth latest person to board that plane, and
a little sad that I got so stressed out about my situation that I told the
whole world. I made the plane, reached Mumbai and entered back home. The last
four stops (including Bangalore) are true homecomings, but apart from the 18
hours in Singapore, to go to Mumbai before returning home is about as perfect
as it gets.
