Greetings London..
21st June 2006
All set?
This was a question to which I had no answer (and how was I supposed to?)..and yet answered in the affirmative about 253 times before I finally took that much awaited flight to London.
The only idea I had about the country was from what I had heard from people or what I had read or seen on TV…but well as far as knowing that I had packed in what most of my friends had advised me to,I guessed I was all set. As I bid farewell to my dearest pals at work I knew I was leaving behind something that I would miss in the days to come. All the people I was leaving behind would move on with their lives and the question that played on my mind was, when I come back would I still be able to connect to them the way I do now? Maybe, maybe not. But the dice had been rolled and the decisions taken…so there I was all set for that.
The trip to the airport was rather quiet with mom and dad not saying too much and I perfectly understand why…the skies were overcast and suvie told me it was raining back in Pune.
At the airport I had to bid a rather hurried goodbye to my folks as the immigration process had already begun.
The crinkling plastic on my new suitcases made sure that people noticed me as I ran back and forth between various counters clueless about what line to join and with what form in hand. It is a rather misconstrued notion that men don’t ask for directions. I think the truth lies in the fact that men don’t understand directions unless they are the ones giving them. So after numerous efforts to understand the system well, I finally found myself in the waiting lobby after the security check, trying to look like the ever confident traveler who had done the circuit thrice a day since his fourth birthday. Reality peeked through when a rather cute looking member of the ground staff (I wonder where she will be when I get back), found me out just before the plane took off to return the luggage check-in token that I had innocently given away with my boarding pass…well u learn your lessons..And so I was finally all set.
22nd June 2006
The flight was an interesting one. The air-hostesses were good, the take off was perfect, the air-hostesses were good, the food was palatable and before I forget, the air hostesses were good. The ultra-cold croissants served on the plane actually made me wonder whether the infamous British ‘stiff upper lip’ isn’t only a frozen one after all…
There was this lady sitting next to me who I made small talk with. Her name was Shahida Khan and she was of Pakistani origin living in Canada for 30 years, was visiting India after 25 years (she actually thought Pune was very similar to Karachi) and was headed to London to visit her brother. She pocketed almost all the small ketchup and sugar packets served to us in our dinner packets. I knew I had found a gem when she actually turned to me and pointing to the words ”Day-by-Day Deli” on the packet said ”I think they have ordered dinner from Deli Darbar (Delhi Darbar)….wow !!!
The flight landed about half an hour before time but the serpentine queues for immigration check ensured that I was at least an hour late in meeting my cab driver. The first thing that struck me about the airport was the very evident variety of cultural mixes.This was the first time I had seen so many clothed foreigners in one sweep of the eye…(the unclothed variety I’ve seen in Goa.)..and I was proud that I could actually tell the nationalities of the people around…the prim-and-propah local brits, the very good looking French and Italians, the ultra-cool jeans-slipping-off-the-bum Americans and the overdressed Indians..
Gary, my driver was my first introduction to the courteous and polite English.The drive from the airport to my hotel in East Croydon was stunningly beautiful. As the Mercs and Beemers interspersed generously with brands unheard of in India sped by I coudnt help noticing the driving and traffic sense that people maintained. A speeding vehicle would slow down and allow even the solitary pedestrian to cross with both the driver and the pedestrian exchanging pleasantries…What..!!...In India it would have resulted in a near death accident and a “Bh%$#^%, diktha nahi hai kya..marne ko meri hi gaadi mili thi kya??…JJ
The scenery we passed through was breath taking…all the houses were neatly arranged in rows with signboards that explained just about everything there was to explain. Pretty women (a whole lot of em)
walking around and flags supporting the England football team were flying from almost every possible pole and window.
I checked into the hotel and was told to pay cash upfront, so I went looking for a bank to get my Travelers Checks encashed.
I had to make a call to the Infy office informing them of my arrival so I went to a superstore to get some change for a twenty and the kind lady with the ubiquitous smile handed me half a kilo of strange metallic currency. I found a payphone and that’s when I had my first tryst with the monster. Theories of the rise of the machines and machines becoming more smarter than the human being raced through my mind as I struggled with the payphone, not comfortable with either the code, or the currency or the darn payphone which swallowed around 80 pence without letting me get a sqeak across. A brief struggle and a pound later human intelligence won and I had made my call.
I decided to do a dry run from my hotel to Canary Wharf, where my office would be and even for a first timer like me the travel was surprisingly convenient.
Of course I tried to battle another demonic version of the machine kind, the ticket vending machine(its an intimidatingly huge computerized thing with loads of screens and even more options)..duh….i took the old fashioned way out and waited in the queue…the black gentleman at the counter was really kind and spent a good five minutes explaining to me the various routes I could take and also marked them out on a map for me…almost forcing me to make comparisons between him and the guys behind the ticket windows at Churchgate station. But I must say, the travel isn’t half as exciting as the travel in the Mumbai locals..I almost had the in-built urge to jump onto the approaching train but instead had to wait till everyone got out and then entered in a queue…how boring…and I wondered how the people here got their buzz from besides Viagra.
If any body says that Christianity is the dominant religion in Britain, don’t believe them…Fashion is by far the most believed in religion here. This I guess is true for most of Europe. The sunshine and lovely climate has brought out the most interesting and gaze-stopping fashion into the streets of London…the women wear really unbelievable stuff and a few of them almost tripped over their necklines…hmm..
Canary Wharf, which has been in the news recently, depicts the true power that London has as a financial and business hub. The gigantic structures of metal, glass and concrete leave you gaping and so does the show of money. I saw my first couple of stretch limos and passed by people who exude power simply by their appearance.
Returning home I grabbed a sandwich and crashed out early. It was weird to see the skies so brightly lit up even at 9.30 at night.
23rd June 2006
I reported in to work today. My office is in the towering Citigroup Centre. Touted as one of the architectural accomplishments of modern times in Europe, the grandeur of the building is surpassed only by the variety of cuisines offered in the sprawling canteen. My taste buds turned a gleeful somersault just looking at the options available…so I think whether I work or not, I am going to be eating a lot…J
I lost another 30 pence to the chewing gum vending machine…(I might have to budget a monthly allowance for machine losses..)
Came back tired ..picked up my first KFC helping and soaked in the bath till I drifted into sweet sleep.
All set?
This was a question to which I had no answer (and how was I supposed to?)..and yet answered in the affirmative about 253 times before I finally took that much awaited flight to London.
The only idea I had about the country was from what I had heard from people or what I had read or seen on TV…but well as far as knowing that I had packed in what most of my friends had advised me to,I guessed I was all set. As I bid farewell to my dearest pals at work I knew I was leaving behind something that I would miss in the days to come. All the people I was leaving behind would move on with their lives and the question that played on my mind was, when I come back would I still be able to connect to them the way I do now? Maybe, maybe not. But the dice had been rolled and the decisions taken…so there I was all set for that.
The trip to the airport was rather quiet with mom and dad not saying too much and I perfectly understand why…the skies were overcast and suvie told me it was raining back in Pune.
At the airport I had to bid a rather hurried goodbye to my folks as the immigration process had already begun.
The crinkling plastic on my new suitcases made sure that people noticed me as I ran back and forth between various counters clueless about what line to join and with what form in hand. It is a rather misconstrued notion that men don’t ask for directions. I think the truth lies in the fact that men don’t understand directions unless they are the ones giving them. So after numerous efforts to understand the system well, I finally found myself in the waiting lobby after the security check, trying to look like the ever confident traveler who had done the circuit thrice a day since his fourth birthday. Reality peeked through when a rather cute looking member of the ground staff (I wonder where she will be when I get back), found me out just before the plane took off to return the luggage check-in token that I had innocently given away with my boarding pass…well u learn your lessons..And so I was finally all set.
22nd June 2006
The flight was an interesting one. The air-hostesses were good, the take off was perfect, the air-hostesses were good, the food was palatable and before I forget, the air hostesses were good. The ultra-cold croissants served on the plane actually made me wonder whether the infamous British ‘stiff upper lip’ isn’t only a frozen one after all…
There was this lady sitting next to me who I made small talk with. Her name was Shahida Khan and she was of Pakistani origin living in Canada for 30 years, was visiting India after 25 years (she actually thought Pune was very similar to Karachi) and was headed to London to visit her brother. She pocketed almost all the small ketchup and sugar packets served to us in our dinner packets. I knew I had found a gem when she actually turned to me and pointing to the words ”Day-by-Day Deli” on the packet said ”I think they have ordered dinner from Deli Darbar (Delhi Darbar)….wow !!!
The flight landed about half an hour before time but the serpentine queues for immigration check ensured that I was at least an hour late in meeting my cab driver. The first thing that struck me about the airport was the very evident variety of cultural mixes.This was the first time I had seen so many clothed foreigners in one sweep of the eye…(the unclothed variety I’ve seen in Goa.)..and I was proud that I could actually tell the nationalities of the people around…the prim-and-propah local brits, the very good looking French and Italians, the ultra-cool jeans-slipping-off-the-bum Americans and the overdressed Indians..
Gary, my driver was my first introduction to the courteous and polite English.The drive from the airport to my hotel in East Croydon was stunningly beautiful. As the Mercs and Beemers interspersed generously with brands unheard of in India sped by I coudnt help noticing the driving and traffic sense that people maintained. A speeding vehicle would slow down and allow even the solitary pedestrian to cross with both the driver and the pedestrian exchanging pleasantries…What..!!...In India it would have resulted in a near death accident and a “Bh%$#^%, diktha nahi hai kya..marne ko meri hi gaadi mili thi kya??…JJ
The scenery we passed through was breath taking…all the houses were neatly arranged in rows with signboards that explained just about everything there was to explain. Pretty women (a whole lot of em)
walking around and flags supporting the England football team were flying from almost every possible pole and window.
I checked into the hotel and was told to pay cash upfront, so I went looking for a bank to get my Travelers Checks encashed.
I had to make a call to the Infy office informing them of my arrival so I went to a superstore to get some change for a twenty and the kind lady with the ubiquitous smile handed me half a kilo of strange metallic currency. I found a payphone and that’s when I had my first tryst with the monster. Theories of the rise of the machines and machines becoming more smarter than the human being raced through my mind as I struggled with the payphone, not comfortable with either the code, or the currency or the darn payphone which swallowed around 80 pence without letting me get a sqeak across. A brief struggle and a pound later human intelligence won and I had made my call.
I decided to do a dry run from my hotel to Canary Wharf, where my office would be and even for a first timer like me the travel was surprisingly convenient.
Of course I tried to battle another demonic version of the machine kind, the ticket vending machine(its an intimidatingly huge computerized thing with loads of screens and even more options)..duh….i took the old fashioned way out and waited in the queue…the black gentleman at the counter was really kind and spent a good five minutes explaining to me the various routes I could take and also marked them out on a map for me…almost forcing me to make comparisons between him and the guys behind the ticket windows at Churchgate station. But I must say, the travel isn’t half as exciting as the travel in the Mumbai locals..I almost had the in-built urge to jump onto the approaching train but instead had to wait till everyone got out and then entered in a queue…how boring…and I wondered how the people here got their buzz from besides Viagra.
If any body says that Christianity is the dominant religion in Britain, don’t believe them…Fashion is by far the most believed in religion here. This I guess is true for most of Europe. The sunshine and lovely climate has brought out the most interesting and gaze-stopping fashion into the streets of London…the women wear really unbelievable stuff and a few of them almost tripped over their necklines…hmm..
Canary Wharf, which has been in the news recently, depicts the true power that London has as a financial and business hub. The gigantic structures of metal, glass and concrete leave you gaping and so does the show of money. I saw my first couple of stretch limos and passed by people who exude power simply by their appearance.
Returning home I grabbed a sandwich and crashed out early. It was weird to see the skies so brightly lit up even at 9.30 at night.
23rd June 2006
I reported in to work today. My office is in the towering Citigroup Centre. Touted as one of the architectural accomplishments of modern times in Europe, the grandeur of the building is surpassed only by the variety of cuisines offered in the sprawling canteen. My taste buds turned a gleeful somersault just looking at the options available…so I think whether I work or not, I am going to be eating a lot…J
I lost another 30 pence to the chewing gum vending machine…(I might have to budget a monthly allowance for machine losses..)
Came back tired ..picked up my first KFC helping and soaked in the bath till I drifted into sweet sleep.
posted by Ameet Gaikwad at 2:46 PM
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