Before reading ahead, read: Bombay 2 London 2 Scotland 2 Istanbul - Take I
10 August
I don't think I'll ever forget this day and how frigging excited I was. I was literally on a countdown one week before departure and everyone at work knew that Chelsea was just waiting to bolt outta the 8th floor and if she had her way, never return.
I walked in at 8am (the usual). Most of the handover was done - the day was spent in ironing out any possible unforeseen situations. Briefing to the minions was paramount because I would be disconnected from work for three beautiful weeks. If shit hit the ceiling, wellllll I'd be a billion miles away - or 4466 miles to be exact.
Can't touch this (oh-oh oh oh oh-oh-oh) ... Can't touch this (oh-oh oh oh oh-oh-oh)
At 5.20pm - all packed, said Arrivederci and did a Dorothy at the lift. Damnnn - I can actually picture that moment so clearly, taking that selfie and screaming as I zoomed down!!!
Followed routine - took the bus home, got my hair washed and straightened and began unpacking and packing for the last time. The first was when I completed my itinerary for the UK leg of the holiday -- the second when Scotland was finalised -- the third, on the day I submitted my visa documents -- the fourth, the day I got my visa, the fifth, the Saturday before leaving, the sixth, the Sunday before leaving and the seventh -- day of departure.
11 August
The moment had finally arrived. My flight departed at 6.45am. But I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I was safely cocooned at the airport. So I left at 12 midnight. Reached the airport at 1am. Crap part is since the counter wasn't open, I couldn't enjoy walking past Security and chilling at the Premiere Lounge. Sat and bummed around, all the while trying to keep my eyes glued to the counter - wanted to be the first to get in and get going. Dunno at what point I snoozed but I woke up at 3.30am to watch people in line. Dammnit, Pinchu.
Waited for my turn patiently. I always get nervous around international flights - the departure from Canada which never took place in October 2009 is a constant reminder to never take small things like visas and work permits for granted -- especially when law enforcement can never give you clarity on your status in their homeland.
With ticket in hand and luggage checked in, I headed to the waiting area. I still had a good two odd hours. Went to feed my face at the usual hangout - Costas (Memories, I tell you). And guess who is awake at that ungodly hour - Canadians. Nols called and kept me company while I waited in agony -- yes, I just wanted to flyyyyyyyyyy! While standing in line - I saw someone with a Jansport bag - Xavier's hit me hard and so fast that all it took was a moment and smiles - thinking of Chinks, Sal and me running the halls of our Alma mater with our Jansport bags.
Finally - boarded. Took off and throughout the flight to Istanbul I did not understand a single syllable uttered by the cabin crew - be it their announcements or asking me what I'd like to eat, or would I like a blanket. But they kept smiling at me and so I got comfy. I think people really look at me as if I'm a child travelling alone and they all seem to want to help me. Or maybe I come across as this hapless school kid. Either way - I love it (:
The flight was pleasant and I could see cotton candy clouds as far as my four eyes could manage and I just wanted to taste some of it with my really yummy Turkish meal. Landed in Istanbul on time and had a three hour stopover. First thing I did was go feed my face (hey, a girl's gotta eat!). Thanks to Mous, I had some leftover Turkish Lira from her holidays - grabbed a drink and a roll and sat next to an Asian looking girl who looked my age but was *cough cough* about 10 years younger. She seemed an enthu-cutlet and I sighed knowing she wanted to make conversation. So I said hello and holy smokes Batman that girl can talk! She barely took a breath as she told me she was originally Pakistani but people kept mistaking her for being Indian, about her layover in Istanbul, she introduced me to her aunt and told me why they were moving to America for good. Her dad worked in the Pakistani Government or something and she was born a US citizen but moved to Karachi to study because dad was stationed there but now she was returning to the States for good... *breathe*
Seemed quite impressed to see an Indian girl loafing around the globe and said she always wanted to experience stuff. Told her some of my funny experiences, told her how cool Bombay is and that we are sooo chilled and she said so is Karachi (we both, as expected, did a double take!). I hope I piqued the wanderer in her to pack a bag and head off into the unknown one day.
After saying goodbye, I headed to immigration to catch my flight to London. About Turkish men... hot AF but ummm short and such grim faces. Rarely saw anyone crack a drooped lip too. I walked past something of the Old Grand Bazaar feel and saw some fancy ass brands and I always wonder - who the hell shops in there because I never see anyone inside - ever! About to board and they ask me all sorts of questions and were impressed with my English and I got really pissed with the patronising gestures that I just grinned like a toothless gollum. Oh, wait - gollum was toothless - wasn't he?
Boarded an hour early and that was such a baaaddddd idea. That freaking plane's Air Con wasn't working on ground due to -- well, like I said earlier, I couldn't understand a word of what they announced and would only begin working once we took off. An hour of polluted oxygen later, the AC baby in me began melting. We took off and things appeared normal but I was really hot under the non existent collar for not the reasons I'd have preferred. I was in a vest and there was a lady in a hijab in the middle and her husband to her left. Yes, I had booked all window seats, obviously :D The lady in the hijab made sure I did not look at her property and the said property made sure there was no eye contact with me. They were struggling with getting a SIM into their phone and I offered help but was met with a resounding NO. Bollocks, to you lot. But knowing my need to be helpful, I again offered my pen when we had to fill in a slip of paper declaring ourselves prior entering London. They took it with grace finally. At one point I actually wanted to tell the Mrs. --- you really should see me on a washed hair day. lol.
When the plane started descending, my heart rate was faster than the plane even flying to get me there --- London Eye, a stadium (is that the Emirates???), that has to be Buckingham Palace - Soooooo close, come on, land fast - the queen is waiting for me...
THE PROMISE LAND!!!
Heathrow was just WOW - really WOW. I mean really WOW. Sorry T2, but this is definitely a moment to savour. Next up, immigration and it's true. They do seem like bullies and everyone was waiting in line nervously - hoping they get the less scary official. It was my turn next, as I observed the person ahead of me getting grilled by this extremely frightening woman.
"Next"
I walked straight to my person and gave him the biggest, brightest "You can't fuck with me because I am a law abiding Indian citizen and all my papers are in order" smile. Well, he was either knocked off his seat with my dazzling persona or maybe it was the sudden British dialect that I coughed out of nowhere. Hehehehe. I spoke calmly, he seemed enthused with my itinerary and then we got chatting and I began telling him about Coasteering. For someone who frequently went to Scotland he was surprised he'd never heard of it. He wrote down the name of this 50 year old Scotch that I had to try in Edinburgh and said it costed 90 quid and I'm like - Uhhh huhhh.. I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. Why? Because this was waayyyyyy better than my Canadian immigration experience. I wasn't that scared, shrivelled up, poor nerves person type anymore. Confident. Determined. You name it. I was it.
After wishing me an awesome trip, I headed to take the Tube. I had the Oyster card given by Vishal but was told that it was a temporary one and that I'd have to purchase a new card for which I'd get a refund on my departure. I said okay and was sooooo enthused about my first tube ride. courtesy - The London Underground.
Before walking though, I did have a moment. Just welled up - it really had taken four months of planning, scrimping and saving, monetary help to fill up the bank a/c and a billion thoughts of will I be able to afford the bills, to get me to this moment. I said a short prayer and reminded myself of the wonderful family and friends who always go out of their way to show how much they love and care for me by really making my dreams come true. Blessed (:
I took the escalator and asked the gentleman in front of me which side should I board the train to Caledonian Road Station. Since he was going on the same line, he helped me with my trolley and we were off. We began talking and he asked me my name and what I did and what was my plan for the day. He called Chelsea a nonsense team - the man had no taste obviously, but couldn't stop laughing when I told him I was headed for an Arsenal game in a few hours. Shaking hands, he departed and I was left to my own thoughts. Once the tunnels were done, I had my first proper glimpse of London or the outskirts of it, I think. "How fortunate I am to be experiencing this" - was the constant thought in my head.
Dewi said she'd meet me outside the station and I eagerly took the exit and there she was -- waiting! Dewi has my kinda energy - and I'd like to believe we got on like a house on fire. Such a kindred spirit. She took me home and we spent yakking like we've known each other for centuries. At 5pm, I went for a quick shower (did not wash my hair) and she showed me how to use the App and get to Emirates stadium which was a 10 minute walk - can you frigging believe that!
So off I went with my trusty backpack and selfie stick and I was sooooooo bloodddyyyy excited - CHELSEA IS IN LONDON!!!
Got lost (the usual). You'd think that being in a country which has clear directions, I should get it right, right? Yeah, no. I couldn't understand the app. Not to mention I was reading the data plan wrong and it just seemed like it was eating a lot of data -- I later realised that I had soooo much data that I'd not know how to finish it.
Walking towards Emirates, I slowly start seeing the red jerseys, the scarves and all the other paraphernalia that comes when going to watch a game in a stadium. People in gangs, not groups, loud and tough and talking football, drinking football, waiting by pubs for their mates or watching an old game all the while chugging on some beer.
Ummm, I was slightly nervous. Suddenly felt very tiny and yes, I really was the shortest thing entering the Emirates. At the ticket checkpost, they stopped me and and said I'd have to handover the selfie stick but could come collect it post the game. They asked for my name to enter it in their records and I murmured Chelsea. Should have said Geeta. Lol. The laughter was pretty much expected - They told me "You're in London for the wrong match, love." All said in that typical dry British humour that you just can't take offence.
I finally entered and the first view - my first look at a football stadium - YES, CHELSON I BEAT YOU TO IT!!! Pretty sure I had multiple attacks of glee written all over me old face! There was this kind gentleman, an usher I guess, who became my phototakeouter and he was laughing at my excitement and my banner and said "Stand here, love - this would make a great photograph". Everyone kept calling me love. Felt very loved at that point. True story.
It was 6.30pm. Another hour fifteen to kick-off. I watched the entire stadium filling up. I watched different groups settling down, people getting stuff to munch on, Leicester City players coming on the ground to warm up, then a few Arsenal players, then the sprinklers coming on, then the media and the announcer and then finally tick tock...
7.45pm - KICK-OFF!
I felt like Harry at that point - using the Omnioculars for his first Quidditch match. I needed like a billion eyes because I wanted to record every moment and see everyone and everything!!! Suddenly I spot Arsene a few rows down and God's honour, the man doesn't sit. The game was powerful, mindblowing, the crowds were just wild and constantly chanting - the away team's corner was so enthused throughout - I died and went straight to heaven when Arsenal scored within 12 minutes. The stadium just erupted!
I was really happy with my seat purchase and I was seated next to a senior gentleman, his two sons and wife. He begins offering me food and water. I probably looked starved because he kept forcing me to eat more. He worked for the Royal Bank of Canada (HAHAHA) and gave me his business card. We started taking - Everybody I spoke with was friendly when I told them about my travel plans in their country. Such a comfort feeling.
The chants were sooooo cool - Arsenal... Arsenal.... then in the second half, Ahhhhhh ahhhh ahhhhhhh ahhhhhhhh Giii-rouddddd (to the tune of Hey Jude). Seeing Petr Cech, Olivier Giroud and Mezut Ozil - names I've loved and grown up with - it was really an emotional moment to witness history. Mezut wasn't in great form. Arsenal's game was really all over the place, defence was poor to let in two goals. But they bounced back and I'm glad they did because it was their Home crowd and boy, they sure kept the language colourful throughout the 90+ minutes.
With a thrilling 4-2 win favouring Arsenal and a great start to the Premier League, I followed the crowd to the exit. It was touching 10pm when I collected my selfie stick.
The crowd was intense with people rushing past to leave and I got swallowed in the chaos till someone did a Hand of God, caught me by my shirt and pulled me out of the wrong traffic flow and into the correct exit lane. I never saw my saviour but shouted my gratitude. Not cool being short. Not cool.
I enjoyed my walk back to Dewi's. The air was slightly nippy but I honestly did not care.
It was the perfect finish to a perfect day one in London.
10 August
I don't think I'll ever forget this day and how frigging excited I was. I was literally on a countdown one week before departure and everyone at work knew that Chelsea was just waiting to bolt outta the 8th floor and if she had her way, never return.I walked in at 8am (the usual). Most of the handover was done - the day was spent in ironing out any possible unforeseen situations. Briefing to the minions was paramount because I would be disconnected from work for three beautiful weeks. If shit hit the ceiling, wellllll I'd be a billion miles away - or 4466 miles to be exact.
Can't touch this (oh-oh oh oh oh-oh-oh) ... Can't touch this (oh-oh oh oh oh-oh-oh)
At 5.20pm - all packed, said Arrivederci and did a Dorothy at the lift. Damnnn - I can actually picture that moment so clearly, taking that selfie and screaming as I zoomed down!!!
Followed routine - took the bus home, got my hair washed and straightened and began unpacking and packing for the last time. The first was when I completed my itinerary for the UK leg of the holiday -- the second when Scotland was finalised -- the third, on the day I submitted my visa documents -- the fourth, the day I got my visa, the fifth, the Saturday before leaving, the sixth, the Sunday before leaving and the seventh -- day of departure.
11 August
The moment had finally arrived. My flight departed at 6.45am. But I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I was safely cocooned at the airport. So I left at 12 midnight. Reached the airport at 1am. Crap part is since the counter wasn't open, I couldn't enjoy walking past Security and chilling at the Premiere Lounge. Sat and bummed around, all the while trying to keep my eyes glued to the counter - wanted to be the first to get in and get going. Dunno at what point I snoozed but I woke up at 3.30am to watch people in line. Dammnit, Pinchu.Waited for my turn patiently. I always get nervous around international flights - the departure from Canada which never took place in October 2009 is a constant reminder to never take small things like visas and work permits for granted -- especially when law enforcement can never give you clarity on your status in their homeland.
With ticket in hand and luggage checked in, I headed to the waiting area. I still had a good two odd hours. Went to feed my face at the usual hangout - Costas (Memories, I tell you). And guess who is awake at that ungodly hour - Canadians. Nols called and kept me company while I waited in agony -- yes, I just wanted to flyyyyyyyyyy! While standing in line - I saw someone with a Jansport bag - Xavier's hit me hard and so fast that all it took was a moment and smiles - thinking of Chinks, Sal and me running the halls of our Alma mater with our Jansport bags.
Finally - boarded. Took off and throughout the flight to Istanbul I did not understand a single syllable uttered by the cabin crew - be it their announcements or asking me what I'd like to eat, or would I like a blanket. But they kept smiling at me and so I got comfy. I think people really look at me as if I'm a child travelling alone and they all seem to want to help me. Or maybe I come across as this hapless school kid. Either way - I love it (:
The flight was pleasant and I could see cotton candy clouds as far as my four eyes could manage and I just wanted to taste some of it with my really yummy Turkish meal. Landed in Istanbul on time and had a three hour stopover. First thing I did was go feed my face (hey, a girl's gotta eat!). Thanks to Mous, I had some leftover Turkish Lira from her holidays - grabbed a drink and a roll and sat next to an Asian looking girl who looked my age but was *cough cough* about 10 years younger. She seemed an enthu-cutlet and I sighed knowing she wanted to make conversation. So I said hello and holy smokes Batman that girl can talk! She barely took a breath as she told me she was originally Pakistani but people kept mistaking her for being Indian, about her layover in Istanbul, she introduced me to her aunt and told me why they were moving to America for good. Her dad worked in the Pakistani Government or something and she was born a US citizen but moved to Karachi to study because dad was stationed there but now she was returning to the States for good... *breathe*Seemed quite impressed to see an Indian girl loafing around the globe and said she always wanted to experience stuff. Told her some of my funny experiences, told her how cool Bombay is and that we are sooo chilled and she said so is Karachi (we both, as expected, did a double take!). I hope I piqued the wanderer in her to pack a bag and head off into the unknown one day.
After saying goodbye, I headed to immigration to catch my flight to London. About Turkish men... hot AF but ummm short and such grim faces. Rarely saw anyone crack a drooped lip too. I walked past something of the Old Grand Bazaar feel and saw some fancy ass brands and I always wonder - who the hell shops in there because I never see anyone inside - ever! About to board and they ask me all sorts of questions and were impressed with my English and I got really pissed with the patronising gestures that I just grinned like a toothless gollum. Oh, wait - gollum was toothless - wasn't he?Boarded an hour early and that was such a baaaddddd idea. That freaking plane's Air Con wasn't working on ground due to -- well, like I said earlier, I couldn't understand a word of what they announced and would only begin working once we took off. An hour of polluted oxygen later, the AC baby in me began melting. We took off and things appeared normal but I was really hot under the non existent collar for not the reasons I'd have preferred. I was in a vest and there was a lady in a hijab in the middle and her husband to her left. Yes, I had booked all window seats, obviously :D The lady in the hijab made sure I did not look at her property and the said property made sure there was no eye contact with me. They were struggling with getting a SIM into their phone and I offered help but was met with a resounding NO. Bollocks, to you lot. But knowing my need to be helpful, I again offered my pen when we had to fill in a slip of paper declaring ourselves prior entering London. They took it with grace finally. At one point I actually wanted to tell the Mrs. --- you really should see me on a washed hair day. lol.
When the plane started descending, my heart rate was faster than the plane even flying to get me there --- London Eye, a stadium (is that the Emirates???), that has to be Buckingham Palace - Soooooo close, come on, land fast - the queen is waiting for me...
THE PROMISE LAND!!!Heathrow was just WOW - really WOW. I mean really WOW. Sorry T2, but this is definitely a moment to savour. Next up, immigration and it's true. They do seem like bullies and everyone was waiting in line nervously - hoping they get the less scary official. It was my turn next, as I observed the person ahead of me getting grilled by this extremely frightening woman.
"Next"
I walked straight to my person and gave him the biggest, brightest "You can't fuck with me because I am a law abiding Indian citizen and all my papers are in order" smile. Well, he was either knocked off his seat with my dazzling persona or maybe it was the sudden British dialect that I coughed out of nowhere. Hehehehe. I spoke calmly, he seemed enthused with my itinerary and then we got chatting and I began telling him about Coasteering. For someone who frequently went to Scotland he was surprised he'd never heard of it. He wrote down the name of this 50 year old Scotch that I had to try in Edinburgh and said it costed 90 quid and I'm like - Uhhh huhhh.. I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. Why? Because this was waayyyyyy better than my Canadian immigration experience. I wasn't that scared, shrivelled up, poor nerves person type anymore. Confident. Determined. You name it. I was it.
After wishing me an awesome trip, I headed to take the Tube. I had the Oyster card given by Vishal but was told that it was a temporary one and that I'd have to purchase a new card for which I'd get a refund on my departure. I said okay and was sooooo enthused about my first tube ride. courtesy - The London Underground.
Before walking though, I did have a moment. Just welled up - it really had taken four months of planning, scrimping and saving, monetary help to fill up the bank a/c and a billion thoughts of will I be able to afford the bills, to get me to this moment. I said a short prayer and reminded myself of the wonderful family and friends who always go out of their way to show how much they love and care for me by really making my dreams come true. Blessed (:
I took the escalator and asked the gentleman in front of me which side should I board the train to Caledonian Road Station. Since he was going on the same line, he helped me with my trolley and we were off. We began talking and he asked me my name and what I did and what was my plan for the day. He called Chelsea a nonsense team - the man had no taste obviously, but couldn't stop laughing when I told him I was headed for an Arsenal game in a few hours. Shaking hands, he departed and I was left to my own thoughts. Once the tunnels were done, I had my first proper glimpse of London or the outskirts of it, I think. "How fortunate I am to be experiencing this" - was the constant thought in my head.Dewi said she'd meet me outside the station and I eagerly took the exit and there she was -- waiting! Dewi has my kinda energy - and I'd like to believe we got on like a house on fire. Such a kindred spirit. She took me home and we spent yakking like we've known each other for centuries. At 5pm, I went for a quick shower (did not wash my hair) and she showed me how to use the App and get to Emirates stadium which was a 10 minute walk - can you frigging believe that!
So off I went with my trusty backpack and selfie stick and I was sooooooo bloodddyyyy excited - CHELSEA IS IN LONDON!!!
Got lost (the usual). You'd think that being in a country which has clear directions, I should get it right, right? Yeah, no. I couldn't understand the app. Not to mention I was reading the data plan wrong and it just seemed like it was eating a lot of data -- I later realised that I had soooo much data that I'd not know how to finish it.
Walking towards Emirates, I slowly start seeing the red jerseys, the scarves and all the other paraphernalia that comes when going to watch a game in a stadium. People in gangs, not groups, loud and tough and talking football, drinking football, waiting by pubs for their mates or watching an old game all the while chugging on some beer.
It was 6.30pm. Another hour fifteen to kick-off. I watched the entire stadium filling up. I watched different groups settling down, people getting stuff to munch on, Leicester City players coming on the ground to warm up, then a few Arsenal players, then the sprinklers coming on, then the media and the announcer and then finally tick tock...
7.45pm - KICK-OFF!
I felt like Harry at that point - using the Omnioculars for his first Quidditch match. I needed like a billion eyes because I wanted to record every moment and see everyone and everything!!! Suddenly I spot Arsene a few rows down and God's honour, the man doesn't sit. The game was powerful, mindblowing, the crowds were just wild and constantly chanting - the away team's corner was so enthused throughout - I died and went straight to heaven when Arsenal scored within 12 minutes. The stadium just erupted!
I was really happy with my seat purchase and I was seated next to a senior gentleman, his two sons and wife. He begins offering me food and water. I probably looked starved because he kept forcing me to eat more. He worked for the Royal Bank of Canada (HAHAHA) and gave me his business card. We started taking - Everybody I spoke with was friendly when I told them about my travel plans in their country. Such a comfort feeling.
The chants were sooooo cool - Arsenal... Arsenal.... then in the second half, Ahhhhhh ahhhh ahhhhhhh ahhhhhhhh Giii-rouddddd (to the tune of Hey Jude). Seeing Petr Cech, Olivier Giroud and Mezut Ozil - names I've loved and grown up with - it was really an emotional moment to witness history. Mezut wasn't in great form. Arsenal's game was really all over the place, defence was poor to let in two goals. But they bounced back and I'm glad they did because it was their Home crowd and boy, they sure kept the language colourful throughout the 90+ minutes.
With a thrilling 4-2 win favouring Arsenal and a great start to the Premier League, I followed the crowd to the exit. It was touching 10pm when I collected my selfie stick.The crowd was intense with people rushing past to leave and I got swallowed in the chaos till someone did a Hand of God, caught me by my shirt and pulled me out of the wrong traffic flow and into the correct exit lane. I never saw my saviour but shouted my gratitude. Not cool being short. Not cool.
I enjoyed my walk back to Dewi's. The air was slightly nippy but I honestly did not care.
It was the perfect finish to a perfect day one in London.
More to come...
2 comments:
Luv it :)
Merci,le garçon!
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