The First Voyage

A Hilarious Account of my First Travel Abroad

Acknowledgement:

The series of incidents illustrated in this article are neither exaggerated nor imagined. These have happened to me in real life, rather I was the culprit to cause these to have taken place at the first place.

The incidents took place a long ago, so some of the dates and times may not be accurate as I had to travel back in time using my memory, which may not be totally reliable.

The word ‘Hilarious’ is a little bit misguiding. I was damn worried and scared to some extent, when I was right in the middle of it. But in hindsight, I do laugh at my own expense and everyone with whom I have shared this experience made a mockery of me. So it is time a wider forum does the same.

The First Voyage:

I was 23, lacking in maturity (perhaps I still do) and was being grilled into a software company for just about a year and half. Like every other non-seasoned birds in the IT industry, I too had a belief that I am the best and I am the one who would revolutionize the industry, starting from my organization (‘charity begins at home’ after all). Thankfully this vicious spell did not last long.

My joy knew no bounds when one day my supervisor asked me to pack my bags as I would be travelling to UK for a few months and all the formalities were duly taken care of. Naturally my first reaction was that my good performance has paid off and I was on cloud number nine.

All said and done, the D-Day arrived. I was a little anxious. Hailing from a typical middle-class background, I did not have the privilege to board a flight even for a domestic journey! And my first flight was destined to be towards an unknown country!

My mind became overly inquisitive about every other thing that can possibly go wrong in a foreign land. The other half of my so-called intellectual self tried to be smarter by countering the questions as rationally and logically as possible.

What if I am unable to communicate properly? (You overlooked the fact that English used to be global language since long and you were going to an English-speaking country for God’s sake)

What if I am unable to carry out my duties properly? (Clear lack of self-confidence, everything would be just fine. Don’t you know that you are the best!!)

What if the food is different? (It will be and you have to accept it dude)

What would I do if I am stopped at the airport and sent back to home for some bizarre reason? (Give me a damn break mate, will ya?)

Have I packed all the essential stuffs? Are all the documents in proper order? (You have already checked it once, twice, thrice….now just keep your sanity intact)

Would I be able to handle the culture shock, I have read too many blokes find it hard to absorb the difference? (Pretend you are watching a TV man)

Advices from relatives and friends poured in to make me even more confused as a first-time traveler, as my own self-inflicted plight was not enough. Nodding to a few and cleverly dodging most of them, I was about to explore a new land. I frequently recollected the steps to be followed (in fact I had a prolonged discussion with one of the veteran itinerant at my office about the ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ at the airports, both domestic and foreign) just to raise my confidence bar, which was dangling at a dangerously low point.

I was given a Saturday morning flight from Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose International Airport, Kolkata which would reach London Heathrow International Airport around 4.30 pm UK time on the same day and from then on I had to catch a connecting domestic flight at around 7.30 pm (same day) for my final destination, Leeds and this would reach Leeds Bradford Airport at around 9.30 pm on Saturday. I was to report at my office on Monday. I was mercifully and tactically provided with the whole Sunday to recover from jetlag.

I was warned by some of my seasoned senior colleagues who had ‘been there and done that’, that the connecting flights are missed mostly as a standard ritual as the immigration would take a long time upon arrival at Heathrow and the domestic terminal was a little far from the international one where I would set my first foot. In this case, I should contact the airline to provide me an overnight accommodation, which they duly do for the employees of my organization (some corporate mutual pat on the back I guess) and get my ticket rescheduled to next morning’s (Sunday) flight around 6 am. The strategic Sunday always acts a buffer day and I would still have plenty of time to report on Monday. These words of wisdom somehow didn’t really help much to boost my morale.

Without any real fuss I boarded the Air India flight which would take me to London. I cleared the processes of collecting the boarding pass, tagging the baggage to Heathrow and went through the security check – as smooth as a knife goes through a block of soft butter. My long abandoned self-confidence started coming back to me and after a couple of pegs of Vodka in the flight I was up for any challenge.

We had a stopover in Mumbai and then started ascending for London. The journey was uneventful as I spent the time reading magazines and devouring a lot of free food (and drinks too) which AirIndia happily supplied, one after another.

When we were approaching London, the first of the series of setbacks announced its presence as a small broadcast from the Captain. Due to some heavy congestion in air traffic over London, we have to wait till we were given a green signal to land. Great start! And we were already running a little late! The airplane started circling over the city of London and I, though a bit worried, started enjoying the view of the wonderful city. Not many get a chance to sightsee London from above, you know!! But soon an enormous cloud blocked the view keeping up with the reputation of a typical London climate, so I was not that fortunate after all.

Within 15-20 minutes the aimless sky sailing was over and we soon landed on Heathrow. It was almost 5.15 pm. As instructed by fellow colleagues, holding on to my documents I started running towards the immigration section where I would be granted entry (fingers crossed) to UK officially. When I reached the immigration area, it seemed that almost all the world has come together here. The immigration area was almost as big as the airport itself in Kolkata and it was thronged by hordes of people with different ethnicity, with different culture, from different countries, with different destinations but with one common objective – to get permission from the immigration counter to enter into the land of Her Majesty.

Completely puzzled about what to do now, I tried to assess my situation and remember the friendly advices from my colleagues – find the queue which is the shortest and fastest. Unfortunately no such queue seemed to exist on that day which would fit those criterions. I placed myself behind a person and just hoped that this would be the shortest one. It might well have been the shortest one, but as it turned out it was the slowest one. It took me around an hour or so to reach to the immigration desk. After getting my passport stamped and submitting the necessary medical documents, I crossed the border and stepped into UK at around 6.15 pm. I was still hopeful to make it.

Next step, find the ‘baggage reclaim’ area to collect my luggage from the designated conveyor belt. I ran. Little did I know that reaching early at the conveyor belt does not guarantee an early arrival of the baggage. And as luck would have it I was amongst the last five persons to receive our baggage – but the positive side is that I was not the last.

6.45 pm!!

Can I still make it? Optimism was still lurking all over me.

From the international terminal at Heathrow to the domestic one, the distance is quite a long one if you choose to walk. So I ran with the luggage trolley, almost trampling a few on my way and picking up some ‘verbal blessings’.

On entering the domestic terminal (around 6.55 pm – I covered the distance within 10 minutes and must have qualified for a new world record), I tried to find the BMI (British Midlands Airways) desk from where I would collect the boarding pass. I knew I would make it and I still think I would have, had it not been for a dog’s sniff! A police-dog, to be precise, as it turned out to be!! It came out of nowhere and just stopped in front of me, sniffing and staring at my big suitcase. A couple of cops approached me and asked if I was carrying any illegal substances!!! I denied naturally (and I am quite sure even the smartest of the drug peddlers would not admit if they are faced with such a direct question!!). They made me open my suitcase and it was found out that I was carrying two boxes of Indian sweets (meant for the ‘deprived’ colleagues in Leeds), which were not allowed, because of some weird rule about milk products. I tried to negotiate (read ‘pleaded’) with them to allow me to keep at least one and take the other on their choices. Probably their hearts melt (or they had enough of sadistic satisfaction humiliating me) and they allowed both the boxes through. But this small incident ate up around 15 more minutes of my precious time and by the time I reached to the BMI counter it was around 7.15 pm and I almost gave up and made up my mind for a rescheduled flight next morning.

Today there was no miracle for me as the lady at the flight desk matter-of-factly informed me that the gates were now closed and she could not allow me to board the flight today. I was mentally too drained out to get into any argument. I just showed her my previous boarding passes and somehow managed to babble out the whole situation. She gave me a sweet smile and probably discussed the same with her superiors and without further question she provided me a ticket for the next day’s morning flight. I thanked her and headed again to the international terminal for the Air India customer service office to arrange for my accommodation for the night.

The Air India stuff was very friendly and probably she hears the same story every other day. I just needed to show her my company’s id card and she immediately guessed my situation without me explaining to her all over again. With a couple of phone calls, she not only arranged for the hotel accommodation, which was in close proximity of the airport and also arranged for a cab – all were on Air India! The table (where my luck was kept out of my reach the whole day) had suddenly turned towards me.

I took the cab and checked in to the hotel at around 9 pm. Jetlagged, hungry and shivering from the freezing cold (it was snowing outside on an early March evening) I ordered some food, took a bath and felt fast asleep. Oh yes, I had informed at the reception to give me a wake-up call at 3 am in the morning as I intended to be at the airport by 4.30 am at the latest. My flight was at 5.30 am next day and I could never afford to have missed it.

When I opened my sleepy eyes I could not actually recall where I was, it was all so blurred. Coming back to my senses the first thing I did was to check my wristwatch.

Bloody hell!!

It was 4.40 am!!!

I packed my stuff, got dressed in a matter of a panic attack and checked out as soon as possible. On my way I dished out a mouthful at the receptionist for not waking me up on time even after my request. To my surprise, she politely stated that I was indeed given a call and I even picked it up and thanked them. I now vaguely remember that incident and I realized that I felt asleep and made a complete mess of myself and my journey. I just apologized and left. There was no one to blame but myself. What an utter stupidity!!

Fortunately I got a cab straightaway and headed to the airport – shelling out the Forex from my own pocket this time.

The same BMI desk, but a different face and it was 5.10 am. I heard the same story, boarding gate was closed and no more passenger was to be allowed. What a shame!! I was absolutely crazy that time but somehow I managed to keep my calm and got a ticket using my credit card. Thank you Visa – you were a lifesaver that day! The next flight was at 7.30 pm in the evening.

Not taking any chances, I decided to stay at the airport this time. I waited in front of the check-in counter and checked in my baggage when the time came. Getting rid of the baggage I was much relieved as the first step towards the successful journey was completed. I did not know that more surprises were planned in store for me.

Since I had enough time I indulged myself in some window shopping. I had my breakfast and lunch. I even managed to have a bath!! Feeling refreshed I sat at one corner of the airport listening to the announcements (no smart phone or ipod that time) and watching the ocean of people travelling to all sorts of directions possible, with none caring for another.

I had kept a close look at my wrist watch. Still more than 6 hours to go!!

My patience was running out a bit. All the announcements seemed to be monotonous enough not to keep me occupied. Every minute was like a year. Time was not moving forward even at a snail’s pace.

An idle brain is a devil’s workshop!

A thought occurred to my mind to down a couple of pints or pegs to just kill the time. I did not indulge this thought to linger for long. It started as a trembling, faint thought but it really grew out to be an argument between the devil and the angel in me. And unfortunately the devil has won (it always does!!), forcing me to search for a nearby resto-bar. And I found one pretty close!

What harm could a couple of pints do?

You must have guessed what must have happened after this. I was too drunk to the catch the flight!!

No!!!

I was totally sober after three pints of Carlsberg. I came out of the bar and had a look on my watch.

4 more hours!!

So, I almost made it!!

I was glad (I was actually in a trance of ecstasy, thanks to Carlsberg)!

I went to another corner and tried to lie down for some time.

And this is when the devil screwed me completely.

Can somebody sleep in an airport in a foreign country where he had been for the first time

AND

his flight is just 4 hours away

AND

he has missed two consecutive flights

AND

he is too anxious to catch the next one??

So many difficult AND conditions are present in one sentence that I believe no one in the world could achieve this feat.

But I could!!!!

First, I dozed off!!

Then, I sunk into a delicious slumber!!

For 5 hours!!

And it happened. I missed the flight, once again! For the third time in a row! What a looser!

And my luggage with all my belongings was probably at 20000 ft altitude, on its way to Leeds!

I still have to spend the night!

Classic!

Waking up around 8.30 pm, I realized what had happened and I just cursed myself (what else could I do) with a few selected adjectives. I couldn’t even show my sorry face to the BMI counter as I have already become a laughing stock for them, but I still had to drag myself for some assistance. Fortunately it was a new person this time who did not know my success rate with missing flights. I simply told her my luggage has been checked in and I missed the flight accidentally. She did not raise the eyebrow and she did not even ask me a question. She handed me a form to fill up my details so that I could collect my luggage from Leeds Bradford Airport once I reach there (if I eventually do). I requested her to reschedule my ticket, and with my surprise she obliged, all I needed to pay was the rescheduling fee. The same Visa card came handy once again!

Next flight, next morning 5.30 am!!!

I did become a bit indifferent to my situation by now and myself. I was in no hurry. After all, what to be hurried about? I promised to myself that I would leave Heathrow without boarding the flight. So I stayed.

I met a Sri Lankan fellow who lent his phone to me to make a phone call, as I did not have a single coin to make a phone call from the phone-booths (with my generosity the last of those coins I have used as Tips at the resto bar). I informed my colleagues in Leeds that I am still in London as the flight was ‘cancelled repeatedly due to some technical glitches’. They bought in my blatant lie, which was just to save myself from the utter embarrassment. Thankfully there wasn’t any ‘Sherlock Holmes’ amongst them, otherwise they could have checked the passenger list of all BMI flights taken off from London for the last two days. They duly informed my parents as well who were dead-worried about me.

The night was uneventful but I did not sleep at all. And no more wild suggestions from the devil was entertained.

Next morning (Monday) I caught the flight and reached Leeds at around 8 am. I have collected my luggage too from the airport, took a taxi and headed towards my destination. Everything went on so smoothly that all these episodes seemed like a distant dream (nightmare).

So thus ends my first voyage – a journey to reach Leeds from India – spanned over 3 days which ideally should have been over within a (calendar) day!!

Aftermath

I reported at my office on Monday around 11.30 am, instead of 8.30 am – this was really an achievement given my epic journey!

My company reimbursed my expenses for the additional cab fares and airline tickets though I should have suffered the consequences of my own mischiefs (but I fabricated a different story altogether in which I managed to gain a lot of sympathy), making this whole episode end with a sweeter note!!

I disclosed the real incidents to some of the colleagues and it spread amongst everyone too rapidly like a fire. I used to be the subject of group ragging for a long time!!!

And I still am ridiculed by all who are familiar with this ‘little’ episode!!

You may also have had a good laugh!! And that was the objective of this narrative from the beginning.

Hold On! There is a ‘Sequel’ of this story which will be published soon.

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