We arrived in Hyderabad at around 8am Sunday morning, local time. The flights were uneventful but long. I felt like I ate way too much - each leg of the flight provided us with plenty of food and beverage, far more than I needed for 30+ hours of sitting around.
The Seattle to Amsterdam leg was on a Northwest Airlines DC-10. The seats were comfortable, and I spent my time reading magazines or flipping videos on the armrest flip-out video system. I watched a documentary on Sarah McLachlan, which is informative and entertaining. I also enjoyed Ray, which I had wanted to see in the theater. I see why Jamie Foxx won Best Actor - an incredible performance.
Amsterdam's airport is huge, with long slidewalks to take you back and forth on the concourses. We hung out for a while in the KLM lounge, which was packed. I took some time to explore the electronics shops, and was annoyed to find a hand cranked flashlight for 10 euros that was identical to one I had paid $22 for in Seattle. Lots of cool electronic gadgets and plenty of customers.
Our flight to Dehli was on a KLM 747. I have long wanted to fly in a 747 but never had the opportunity until this flight. In some ways, it was disappointing. The plane shuddered quite a bit down the runway on takeoff followed by a lot of bangs and whirs from the landing gear. In flight, it was just like any other plane, although I did pop up the stairs and check out the upper deck. That was cool. The landing was also a bit rough, with quite a thump as the nose came down onto the runway.
In Dehli, the jetway directs you right into a large waiting room for passport control, complete with huge slow line for those with "foreign passports". As I waited in line with Clint, I noticed quite a few people with a neat trick: they'd slowly push up the sides of the line, alongside the ropes creating our corral. Not pushy, mind you, but steady. Each time the line would move ahead and adjust itself, they'd take the opportunity to slide by someone. Each turn, they'd get ahead a bit more by cutting to the outside or inside as appropriate.
This would never work in the States - someone would call them on it, or they just wouldn't try it - but in this line more than a dozen people passed Clint and me this way. I noticed that of the passports I could see, they were all red which I believe is the EU passport. At least for were French because I could read the forms they were holding with country of origin. Maybe this is a Western European culture thing.
Anyway, once I got to him, my clerk was silent and efficient, and with a few stamps of the passport, a staple of the exit form to the paper, I was officially allowed into India.
We went through security - a less intense version of that in the States but seemedl like enough - and waited for the bus to take us to the next terminal. Amar assured us that the bus was considered quite a "luxury bus" because it had tinted windows, padded seats, entertainment (music playing), and help with our bags. To me, it seemed about the same as any airport shuttle. Amar suggests I check out a "city bus" to see what more typical India transport is like.
The terminal we arrived at for transport to Dehli was clean but well worn, and in many ways reminded me of Amtrak train stations. Lots of marble and wood with much evidence that many, many people have trod through the halls.
We took a Jet Airways 737 to Hyderabad via a short two hour flight. Boarding was the old fashioned way - take a bus out to the plane then climb the boarding stairs. The plane seemed clean and well maintained, and the flight attendants were pleasant and professional. I had heard horror stories about small "third world" airlines, but this was much like taking any other flight. I chose the "India dinner" and enjoyed some sort of curry chicken, a spicy salad dressing, and some kind of roasted tomato dish that was excellent.
Hyderabad's airport is small but tidy, with polished marble floors and plaster walls. We quickly picked up the one checked bag our group had, and headed outside to find our car. Both Microsoft and the hotel had sent drivers, so there was some confusion about who was going to drive us to the hotel.
As we let Amar work that out, I experienced my first encounters with India's infamous beggars. A small boy of about 7 started tapping my arm, making food motions to his mouth, asking for money with a singsong chant of "money" or "food" and a few other words. We followed the Microsoft-sent drivers to their cars, surrounded by a few more children. Eventually a woman in a black sari with a baby appeared, apparently their mother. By then I was in the back of the compact car, and the children and mother were tapping on the glass trying to get my attention.
As per all the guidebooks and official India government instruction, I ignored them all. You can't solve the problem one person at a time, and if you give them anything, you will be instantly surrounded by many many more asking for everything you have. But it was still difficult. More on beggars in a latter post.
India's traffic can't be described in one post. I'll save that for later as well, and just say that the ride to the hotel was amazing, a little scary, but more like a Disneyland ride scary that actually scary.
