My first impressions of India, at the airport, was that it looked/felt like Florida in the winter time. It was relatively warm (though the locals were in coats), there was a nice breeze, palm trees swaying in the wind, flowers blooming on trees and shrubs, etc. I almost expected to smell the ocean, but the scent was more NYC than West Palm Beach.
My second impression of India was that travelling by road is a harrowing experience not for the faint of heart. Under no circumstances should a westerner attempt to drive in Bangalore. Simply put, what we consider traffic laws in the US are merely suggestions, mostly ignored, in India. Stop signs are used to indicate an intersection and are summarily ignored. Trucks don't have side mirrors, and so say "Honk Horn" on the back. Every time you pass another car, truck, motorcycle,auto-rickshaw, bicycle, person, cow, pig, or pedestrian, you honk your horn. The honk seems to signify that "I am coming so get out of the way or die". Coming to the hotel at night, it is very dark and I can't see much besides palm trees blurring by and the colorfully decorated back ends of trucks as they blur by as well.
We reach the hotel and it is gated and guarded. The driver pulls in and I tip him 200 rupees (about 4 USD). I later learn that was very excessive, 50 rupees will do if you think any tip is necessary at all - its not expected.
The hotel lobby is dark and I have the distinct impression that the manager was asleep somewhere, which is fine. I sign in and I am shown to my room on the 3rd floor.
The room is relatively nice. Certainly bigger than I had in Paris (i.e. not a closet) but not what I would call plush. It is comfortable though, the bed is good, it has A/C, TV and a fridge, and a private bath with a toilet and shower. I have a view of the city (and billboard) from my window.
I unpack and by 3:45 I am crashed out.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment