Delhi pisses me off again within 5 minutes of being there. After arriving from Mumbai at the domestic terminal I have to haggle with cab drivers who want ridiculous prices for a 5km cab ride. I know how much it should cost, and so do they, but they also know I'm at their mercy.
In the end, I have to pay 300 rupees for the fifteen minute journey, and the smug little shit driving me tells me "It's fixed price" to which I reply "No it isn't you thieving bastard," as the costing is clearly displayed on a placard in the back of his cab.
I've just done an overnight bus, and 7 hours in the Mumbai terminal. I am tired and pissed off.
I plan to have an easy evening in, plan my trip to Australia, order some room service and grab a good night's sleep. I'm hopeful when I walk up to the desk "Ah yes, Miss, breakfast is included in the rate and we will organise your transfer to the airport in the morning, which is of course complimentary. If you need anything just dial 9." Aaaah... yes! The room's nice too - clean and crisp - I'm feeling very good about this.
But the chinks in the armour start showing immediately. I can't get the wi-fi to work, which is a considerable thwart to my plans. I can find all my favourite channels on the TV- but none of them work (even when I resort to News or cartoons - nothing). The only thing I can watch is Hindi news or 70s Bollywood. The hotel is surrounded by nothing of interest - I chose it for the purpose of it being close to the airport and a free transfer. I try not to boil over- maybe I'm just hungry. I decide to order room service:
"Hi, this is room 209 - can I have a menu card please."
"What?"
"Yes, um, I want to order room service but there's no menu up here.."
"Menu"
"Yes."
"We have restaurant downstairs."
"Yes I know that, but I want room service."
"Oh, menu card is on the table."
"No, it isn't. That's why I'm calling."
"Ah.. Menu?"
"Yes"
"... there is restaurant downstairs."
"Right. Okay. Never mind."
I march downstairs fuming in my cat-print pajamas and snatch a menu from the desk. I order a grilled veg sandwich and a mango juice. An hour later I am served the dampest sandwich I have ever seen and a mango shake so thick I think they've made it with cement. The porter hovers around awkwardly after delivering it. I am not amused by his tip fishing after the crappy service and say "yes?" to which he replies "Shake. You must pay now. We don't have so we go across the road." I avoid pointing out that this order is wrong anyway and fish around in my purse.
"If you don't have it you should say so on the phone."
"Why?"
"Do you have change of a 500?"
"You don't have small money?"
"No. This is why you should tell people what's going on."
He then leaves without any money.
Resisting the urge to throw the bedside lamp at his head, I grab my tablet to vent at Pete - Wi-fi still not working. I check it at regular intervals throughout the night, and eventually give up at 11.30pm. My stress causes me to have punctured sleep and all my problems reel through my head; I have nowhere booked to stay in Bangkok. I told Pete I would call. I need to plan out Australia.
After the 4 hour flight from Delhi, Bangkok greets me like an old friend. I am instantly cheered by the bright lights, the bright pink taxis and the lack of honking.
But again my plans are thwarted. I know that the cab to town costs about 450 baht. There's a train, but it's miles away from where I want to be. I search around desperately for someone to split it with. There are two French guys standing near the stand.
"Hi! Are you guys going to Khao San."
"Sorry What?"
"Where are you staying? Is it near Khao San. Did you want to share a taxi?" I gesture to it.
"Ah yes - you can get taxi here - it's a very good taxi."
"Yes I know but- where are you staying?"
Their blank faces are a sign for me to give up.
When I'm finally there, I can enjoy all my old haunts. Eat some water spinach on Rambuttri road, use the internet Cafe on the corner for 10 baht, shop for Souviners on Khao San. The tiredness is still lingering, but at least I don't feel the urge to murder anyone anymore.
I have a good nights sleep - but the tiredness is still lingering beyond check-out time, and by the time the shuttle bus arrives all I want is to be asleep on the plane.
When I get to the airport, I'm right on time. I'm happy in the fact I'm getting a big flight out of the way, happy to be in Bangkok's fabulous shiny airport.
"Thank you Madam. Here is your boarding pass. Just to let you know the flight is currently delayed by 2 hours."
"..."
There are no words.
In the end, I have to pay 300 rupees for the fifteen minute journey, and the smug little shit driving me tells me "It's fixed price" to which I reply "No it isn't you thieving bastard," as the costing is clearly displayed on a placard in the back of his cab.
I've just done an overnight bus, and 7 hours in the Mumbai terminal. I am tired and pissed off.
I plan to have an easy evening in, plan my trip to Australia, order some room service and grab a good night's sleep. I'm hopeful when I walk up to the desk "Ah yes, Miss, breakfast is included in the rate and we will organise your transfer to the airport in the morning, which is of course complimentary. If you need anything just dial 9." Aaaah... yes! The room's nice too - clean and crisp - I'm feeling very good about this.
But the chinks in the armour start showing immediately. I can't get the wi-fi to work, which is a considerable thwart to my plans. I can find all my favourite channels on the TV- but none of them work (even when I resort to News or cartoons - nothing). The only thing I can watch is Hindi news or 70s Bollywood. The hotel is surrounded by nothing of interest - I chose it for the purpose of it being close to the airport and a free transfer. I try not to boil over- maybe I'm just hungry. I decide to order room service:
"Hi, this is room 209 - can I have a menu card please."
"What?"
"Yes, um, I want to order room service but there's no menu up here.."
"Menu"
"Yes."
"We have restaurant downstairs."
"Yes I know that, but I want room service."
"Oh, menu card is on the table."
"No, it isn't. That's why I'm calling."
"Ah.. Menu?"
"Yes"
"... there is restaurant downstairs."
"Right. Okay. Never mind."
I march downstairs fuming in my cat-print pajamas and snatch a menu from the desk. I order a grilled veg sandwich and a mango juice. An hour later I am served the dampest sandwich I have ever seen and a mango shake so thick I think they've made it with cement. The porter hovers around awkwardly after delivering it. I am not amused by his tip fishing after the crappy service and say "yes?" to which he replies "Shake. You must pay now. We don't have so we go across the road." I avoid pointing out that this order is wrong anyway and fish around in my purse.
"If you don't have it you should say so on the phone."
"Why?"
"Do you have change of a 500?"
"You don't have small money?"
"No. This is why you should tell people what's going on."
He then leaves without any money.
Resisting the urge to throw the bedside lamp at his head, I grab my tablet to vent at Pete - Wi-fi still not working. I check it at regular intervals throughout the night, and eventually give up at 11.30pm. My stress causes me to have punctured sleep and all my problems reel through my head; I have nowhere booked to stay in Bangkok. I told Pete I would call. I need to plan out Australia.
After the 4 hour flight from Delhi, Bangkok greets me like an old friend. I am instantly cheered by the bright lights, the bright pink taxis and the lack of honking.
But again my plans are thwarted. I know that the cab to town costs about 450 baht. There's a train, but it's miles away from where I want to be. I search around desperately for someone to split it with. There are two French guys standing near the stand.
"Hi! Are you guys going to Khao San."
"Sorry What?"
"Where are you staying? Is it near Khao San. Did you want to share a taxi?" I gesture to it.
"Ah yes - you can get taxi here - it's a very good taxi."
"Yes I know but- where are you staying?"
Their blank faces are a sign for me to give up.
When I'm finally there, I can enjoy all my old haunts. Eat some water spinach on Rambuttri road, use the internet Cafe on the corner for 10 baht, shop for Souviners on Khao San. The tiredness is still lingering, but at least I don't feel the urge to murder anyone anymore.
I have a good nights sleep - but the tiredness is still lingering beyond check-out time, and by the time the shuttle bus arrives all I want is to be asleep on the plane.
When I get to the airport, I'm right on time. I'm happy in the fact I'm getting a big flight out of the way, happy to be in Bangkok's fabulous shiny airport.
"Thank you Madam. Here is your boarding pass. Just to let you know the flight is currently delayed by 2 hours."
"..."
There are no words.
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