Happy New Year everyone… I’ve been on a lovely Christmas and
New Year’s trip back to Germany and am now sitting on the plane back to Mumbai,
currently eating some Swiss chocolate and drinking some red wine in memory of
much food and wine consumed over the last few days.
Coming to the airport in Germany this morning, I was
reminded how different travelling can be around the world. I’m proudly European
and a big supporter of Europe in many, many ways. One of them is being able to
travel across borders without having to go through the hassle of showing your
passport every couple of kilometers. When I was at University, I used to drive
on a Sunday night from Germany, through the Netherlands to Belgium and wasn’t stopped
once to show any form of documentation (unless some suspicious policeman
decided three students in a jam packed small Lupo were potential drug
traffickers which can happen sometimes when you frequent the Dutch German
border). And I thought that was completely normal (the driving across borders,
not the being checked for drugs).
A few years on and I move to London. Over are the days of
being able to drive from country to country, I now have to get on a plane. But
even worse than that, I have to show my passport in Germany and again in the UK
(Ever wondered why you have to show it twice? Surely once is enough!). Not that
I mind showing my passport but what I do mind is standing in endless queues and
waiting… I get some of the concerns around safety and controlling borders but I
think the true reason for the UK passport controls is to make every British
citizen feel at home again on their journey home. Whenever we arrived in
Gatwick, Heathrow or City, I would be dreading the immigration queue from the
moment I got on the plane. Not saying that Indiadam looked forward to it but I
could most definitely see his face light up upon seeing an orderly queue. You
could always tell the Brits from the tourists – I would keep sighing every time
the queue came to another stop after moving forward 1m and me realizing that
had missed yet another train home. The “locals” would happily check BBC news
and the Sky Sports app, glad to be back on mobile data and standing in a good
British queue.
Move forward another 5 years and here I am in India. Not that
they love an orderly queue here but I can tell you what they love: A good
stamp! When you come to India, leave India or even travel within India, you
will be guaranteed various stamps on a) your boarding pass b) the tag attached
to every piece of hand luggage you’re carrying c) your immigration forms and d)
your passport. I might have even forgotten a few more stamps. On top of that,
everyone loves drawing on your boarding pass to the point you might struggle to
see the gate you need to go to – see below a photo of my boarding pass on the
way back to Europe. So one thing that truly made me feel like I was back in
Mumbai was not the smell, not the noise but the melody of constant stamping of
various travel documents around the airport.
Other fun anecdotes from my trip India – Europe:
You know how there is a queue and whether it is orderly or
not, there is a rule that you don’t jump a queue. Well… When leaving on
Christmas Eve Eve (love that expression – for my German friends and family,
this is the evening before proper Christmas, i.e. 23rd), I was
standing in the standard queue for immigration, the ones you have everywhere
with the poles and removable barriers. Difficult/quite obvious jumping a queue
here. Not for the guy about 5 people behind me… slowly but surely he kept
moving past someone every time the queue moved (which to be fair wasn’t every
often and slow). And then he “overtook” me. If you have ever been on the
Autobahn, we don’t like people overtaking us (which is why we all drive so
fast) and you don’t mess with ze Germans. I gave him my (according to Indiadam well-practiced)
death stare that he first chose to ignore but then had to acknowledge. Next
time we move, I move past. And now comes the best part – everyone who before
let him go past without a word now starts complaining and he gets passed back… J
Same queue, different queue jumper. After about an hour (!)
in the immigration queue, I get to the front. Yay, not far to go until a well
deserved drink. Just right in time for some guy to approach the queue from the
side, signaling that his flight is very soon and he needs to jump the queue.
Fair enough I think, the queue is very long and one can be late to the airport
so I give him a little (approving) head wiggle. But I’m wrong, THIS type of
queue jumping is not acceptable and everyone behind me erupts into loud
complaining to the poor guy. I let him go in front anyway – he can only take a
couple of minutes me thinks. Wrong again, he walks up to the counter, gets out
his forms and starts filling them out in front of the immigration officer.
Based on my empirical studies, Indians have to fill out forms when they leave
the countries and foreigners when they arrive in India. After three minutes of
filling out the form wrong the first time, I have had enough and walk up to the
desk, tell him to at least fill out his forms before jumping the queue and hand
over my passport.
The story should continue… she got handed back her passport,
had a glass of wine and travelled happily ever after. But it doesn’t. See, I
have two valid visas… a business one and an employment one. You’d think two
valid visas are good, right. Chose one and let me thorough – I’m clearly here
legally. Wrong AGAIN. Two visas need to be checked by at least two supervisors
who live in an office far far away…. 1,2,3,4,5,10mins later and still no sight
of the immigration lady and my passport (always a worrying feeling abroad).
Queue jumper number one can barely hide his joy when he steps up to the counter
next to me… Grr
Finally, I get my passport back and hear the sound I’ve been
waiting for. BOOM. STAMPED – the soundtrack of travels in India.
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