After some confusion thanks to a knocked up travel agent being on maternity break, I ended up getting tickets via Singapore Airlines a week before my departure. The proposed flight itinerary was LA-Tokyo-Singapore-Delhi. A few days later, Mother Nature decided to rock up Japan a little. After a cute, concerned voicemail having to do with how wet I am or might get, and several hugs and kisses, I departed on 15 March, 2011 from Los Angeles to enjoy the first leg of my journey.
The first thing I noticed on my 747 was the fact that the aircraft was not very full. So with high hopes, I found my aisle seat (I always maintain window is better…that way I only get up when I have to get up) next to an aged Indian couple. I could tell they were tam brams, and this was confirmed sometime later using some very articulate interrogation techniques (“So…are you tamil brahmins?”). The gentleman was sitting in the middle and the lady took the window. I was happy with the fact that the old man was making polite conversation (“Are you going all the way to India?”, “Do you speak hindi?” and such). But once again, my kindness with regards to entertaining needless conversationalists was taken advantage of when he had a little wine and started telling me about every country he had ever been in, every airline he had ever flown with, every job he had ever held, and so on. He also decided it was his moral responsibility to let me know every few minutes how far from Tokyo we are, what the outside air temperature is, etc. while conveniently ignoring the fact that the same information is readily available to me on my own in-flight entertainment screen too. But brimming with wide-eyed optimism, I decided to take his inconsequential banter in a positive light and made appropriate social noises accordingly. The rest of the 11 hour journey to Tokyo was peppered with the occasional “Excuse me, I need to get out for … “ and the not so occasional “My entertainment system is not working again. Can you please take a look?” Oh, before landing in Tokyo (this was only a touchdown stop), each of them asked me three times if we are to leave our hand baggage on the plane or not. Nice people.
During the brief touchdown in Tokyo, and while letting loved ones know that I had reached there, I waited to board the same aircraft again to continue to Singapore. Since boarding had not started and since the line in front of the gate was about 200 feet long, my sweet couple friends decided to advise me to join the line since boarding might start any minute. I said “thank you, I just need to finish something on my computer” while I wanted to say “if I am here in the boarding lounge, believe me that plane is not going anywhere without me”. They went in after standing in line for about 20 minutes and after about 200 people had boarded before them (yes, it was now going to be a full flight). I, proudly, was among the last 10 people to board: minimal line time, no frustration due to people confused between a boarding pass and a parking ticket.
During Tokyo to Singapore, something incredibly rare managed to happen: I was able to fall asleep on a plane! But once again, there were the more than occasional instances of the sweet couple apprising me of their existence while I was trying to break a personal in-flight sleep time record of 53 minutes. This 8 hour leg of the journey also trudged along until close to landing time when the lady decided to argue passionately with a flight attended about the precise dynamics of how she would like her wheelchair to receive her. And since I was in the aisle seat, I had to listen to the whole thing. That’s how I lost 7 minutes of my life that I am never getting back.
Once in Singapore, I only had 30 minutes to get to a different terminal that was 15 minutes away while still taking time to let loved ones know of my journey’s progress (yes, I am a good kid). So, I didn’t have time for a very elaborate goodbye with the tam brams; although I do hope they were able to make it to the connecting flight. I could sense a good flight right when I entered the relatively new Delhi-bound 777. The seats were wider (mine was window), the air seemed cleaner, even the stewardesses seemed prettier. This part of the journey was the way I liked solo journeys to be: uneventful.
When travelling alone, I don’t want to make friends, or know about people’s life or love stories. I do enjoy getting to tell the great anecdotes later, but honestly, I could do without those too. And I really wish my countrymen would stop acting like little kids while boarding aircrafts as though the plane will leave without them unless they start milling haphazardly around the gate forming a homogenous blob of human. And for once, I would like to sleep uninterrupted in a flight. But for now, an hour from landing in Delhi, I can’t wait to see how the city I was born in and never really liked has changed since I was last there. This trip is going to be eventful in more ways than one.
