Bhutan > On the way to Delhi

When the alarm goes off, it is still dark outside. The digital clock shows 4:45 a.m. I only really wake up once I’m in the shower. Over the next two and a half weeks, I will be traveling through Bhutan and India. The first part in Bhutan I will do together with Maarten and Monique. The taxi will pick us up at their place. I walk to their address while pulling my travel bag behind me. Right on time, taxi Harry arrives. There is little traffic on the road. Also at Schiphol, during check-in, there are no lines. I am unable to print a baggage tag at the kiosk and am directed to the counter. Without too much trouble, my suitcase disappears on the conveyor belt on its way to the plane. My route to the same plane goes smoothly. No queues at baggage control and no customs check. We first fly to Frankfurt. Only after my transfer at Frankfurt Airport do I leave the Schengen area. This means we still have plenty of time for a cup of coffee. Shortly after nine, we take off for the first leg—a short flight to Frankfurt. On board, there is just enough time to hand out some water and a chocolate. Within an hour, I am in Frankfurt. Frankfurt is a large airport. We have to go from Terminal A to Terminal B. A long underground moving walkway leads to the new terminal, where passport control is located. We have enough time for the transfer, which also means we have time to eat something. However, there aren’t many restaurants in the terminal, and certainly none where you can just sit down. There is no choice but to join a long queue for a kiosk. When it’s our turn, we order currywurst with bread. The sausage is placed in a cardboard container, with a bread roll and some curry sauce. Wooden cutlery completes the meal. Although presentation isn’t everything, the sausage tastes good. I strike up a conversation with an American couple. They come from a small town in Arizona and have been visiting their son in Cologne.

Bhutan - On the way to Delhi to later fly to Bhutan

At half past one, I board the Lufthansa 747-400 again. Boarding goes slowly because all Indian visas must be checked. After the check, I’m allowed on board. Due to the delay, the pilot has missed the time slot. He announces that the route to Asia is busy and that we must wait a bit. Only at three o’clock—more than an hour later—do we take off towards Delhi. I notice I’m tired and try to close my eyes. Meanwhile, the staff come around with drinks, then the meal, and shortly before landing with a sandwich. Because India is three and a half hours ahead, the delay means we arrive not at one, but at two o’clock in the morning. We quickly join the queue for the visa. Since I was in India earlier this year, I already have a visa stamp in my passport valid for one year. I receive a new entry stamp next to it and may proceed. Outside the airport, we are approached for a taxi. “Just follow me, just follow me,” the coordinator says. At the taxis, he wakes a sleeping driver. The man is startled awake. There are customers. He immediately springs into action and loads the suitcases in the back. At five euros per person, the ride may be pricey, but it is nice to get to our hotel quickly. The transit hotel is a few kilometers from the airport. It’s almost half past three when I arrive. This was one of the few hotels where you could check in after midnight. We are warmly welcomed and must register in a large book at the desk. The rooms are on the fourth floor. The hotel staff figuratively snatch the luggage from my hands to bring it to my room. Unfortunately for them, I don’t have any Indian money on me. I am happy when I get into my room: a large, spacious room with a double bed. It turns out there are no towels. These are quickly brought up. Then I quickly dive under the sheets. In four hours, I have to get up again.