Westward, Bumble

I reluctantly took my cab to the Mumbai airport late in the evening on May 16th. My flight was scheduled for 1:55 am on Friday, May 17th and all of a sudden, I was getting cold feet. I had been in Mumbai three days after the heat of Varanasi and even though all I did was hang out with the throngs of people at the Crawford Market, it was enough for me to pump the brakes a bit on my enthusiasm for returning to Oregon. First of all, I learned that I’m a true extrovert, as defined by how I re-charge. I literally stood at an intersection of two narrow streets and let the energy well-up inside me from the hundreds of people who were going this way and that. Sometimes I would take photos, other times just stand off to the side, out of the main current, and marvel at the melding of culture and commerce three feet in front of me. God, I love it SO MUCH.

So when I went up to the British Airways counter to check in and the woman there said “Sir, we are overbooked and would like to extend to you an extra day in India if you could give up your seat. And we’d also give you 250 pounds and two nights at a
hotel for your trouble.” Unsure of what I’d just heard, I said “…what?” She smiled and repeated her offer with the caveat “We still need to check to see if we can get you on the same connecting flights to Portland tomorrow but if we can, would you be
interested?” “Yes, I would be interested,” I said, now three feet off the floor. But…those pesky Portland connection flights. Therein lies the rub. When I booked this flight, I used a zillion frequent flyer miles so my return to Portland looked like this: Mumbai to London, London to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to San Francisco, San Francisco to Portland. With the weekend coming up, I wasn’t too optimistic about it all coming together. And come together, it did not. About an hour before take off, she told me they didn’t need my seat. I was free to board. …..yay??? I mean, yes, I wanted to come home, but another (free!) day in India?! Bring it on! So my May 17th began with slight disappointment. And due to my large self, only got worse.

British Airways economy class is not designed for the Bumbles of this world. I slipped off my hiking boots so my feet wouldn’t swell and stick inside them. And then it became clear that the man next to me and I would be fighting for Arm Rest Real Estate
for the next 9+ hours. It was a silent war, but we knew it was happening as it raged on. Switching to another BA flight in London was marginally better. The first one, out of Mumbai and in the pitch of night, allowed me zero comfort in trying to sleep. So I didn’t. I tried, but just didn’t. Ditto on the flight to LA which, at 10.5 hours, was longer than the first. So I watched “A Private War”, “The Girl in the Spider’s Web”, “Whiplash” and “The Grapes of Wrath”. I recommend all of them, by the way, and it was a great way to pass the time in my shoe box.

I landed in LA, which meant I came in as an international traveler but went out a domestic one. That meant collecting my luggage and re-submitting it for TSA approval. I think you can all guess what happened. Anyway, I discovered upon entering my flight to San Francisco that that lovely British Airways ticket agent in Mumbai had booked me EXIT ROW seats on my two connecting Alaska Airlines flights. In so doing, she guaranteed herself Extra Good Karma from the west. That small gesture was ever-so appreciated.

By the time I landed in PDX, my worst fears had come true: my two bags did not make it with me. So, at the end of my journey, a journey that saw me awake for 61 straight hours, travelling for 42 of them, I realized that I would be robbed of sleep in the middle of the night (hopefully!) as my bags would be delivered here at home. They came around 2:00, as expected, and I’ve spent the day unpacking, literally and metaphorically. For now, however, it’s time for a nap.