It is not my
first trip to the Kingdome but as destiny would have it, happened to be an
eventful one. Having received a couple of calls to join projects elsewhere in the
gulf, I insisted on completing a month of leave before taking on any other
project… and ended up going back to my last project in the Red sea.
The flight tickets
were received two days beforehand. I had just two hours in New Delhi Indira
Gandhi airport to change my flight and a 12 hours interlude at Jeddha. I would have
liked it the other way around.
Cab rates keep raising every time I travel
‘diesel price hike’ is the persistent retort. Travel allowances however stubbornly
remain unmoved. The driver lost his way and was a bit late. There being no
traffic jam, it won’t matter; but if we get in a jam, it could mean losing the
flight. For ease of identification, I deliberately bought the purple color big sized ‘American tourister’ trolley bag, which soon was going get lost. The black laptop bag however have been my constant travel companion for
the last three years.
At the
market place, at nine thirty am just opened for business,Internet shops awaited bhoni
(first) customer. Snail paced computer at the first cyber cafe won’t detect my
pen drive. I rushed to the next Ganesh cyber café, at the first floor up
stairs through a grounf floor Xerox shop. Just Re.1 for a computer printout was cheap;
at the airport the airlines charge a hundred rupees for a ticket print. Thought
of getting late kept pilfering my mind, for some strange reason I don’t put on
a watch, some day I intent to give up the mobile too. I ran back to the car, parked under the shade by the driver, for his convenience.
Rest was a cozy drive, the driver initiated some conversation but I was more interested in a nap. Traffic was expected, as we were to traverse the ghats of the holy river Ganges at Haridwar, it being the first day of navratri (Hindu festival of nine days of fasting), but was pleased to find an uncongested road. Except a little halt at the rail crossing the travel went uninterrupted from Roorkee via the holy city of Haridwar to the Jolly Grant airport, Dehradun.
I gave the
driver the fair of 1250 Rupees; he reminded me that I had paid him 500 bucks at
the petrol pump. As I collected my ticket the flight security check
announcement was aired. Although I had a connecting Air India flight from Delhi
to Jeddha the attendant won’t issue the ticket till Jeddha and so I have to
collect my baggage at Delhi and deposit it back to the same airline for the
international flight. It raised my concern as I had just 2 hrs at Delhi to
change to the flight. Nevertheless the flight being on schedule was some relief.

Lucky there was no crowd at the immigration. I found an idle immigration counter and had some spare time for my favorite task at the airport - pick up a business today and a couple of friction books.
I had the least preferred middle seat in the
large (10 seat in a row) aircraft.
Fortunately the aisle seat was vacant which I duly occupied. And had the
vacant seat to keep my books, magazines and newspapers. However I didn’t read
as the entertainment system had a wide collection of movies and serials, after
a much needed nap I ended up watching some (bullshit) comedy. International
fights to Saudi don’t serve drinks; still it was pleasant, to notice that he
air hostess didn’t mind serving extra meal, although I had my fill in a single
serving. I had a 5 and half hours of cozy flying time.
The agent
was nowhere around and the couple of Saudi STC mobile sim declined service. India aircel sim with 170
INR balance displayed ‘low balance’. Sometimes when you are struck, nothing
works. I wondered, absent instant communication, what life would had been, just a
decade back.
Half an hour
passed and suddenly the mobile buzzed, Thankfully the STC sim I just happen to insert in my Galaxy tab, had incoming still
active. The flash back went that the secretary had called my wife mentioning the agent didn’t find me at
the Jeddha airport and so she was trying my Saudi numbers and as a matter of good
fortune, one worked.
Soon the secretary too called me up. Half an hour later the agent also called
stating that an agent will reach me in another half an hour. Joy the coxswain
too arrived from Kotchi, in the Colombo flight. Now, two is a company. We waited for an hour, then made a request
call through a cleaning Indian staff phone to the secretary. The agent arrived
at 10:30 pm, 4 and half hour after schedule.
Past
immigration at the collection point, my baggage was absent. I finally got a
copy of property irregularity report (PIR) in exchange of the checked in
baggage slip. Next surprise was instead of hotel, we were being shuttled to the
domestic airport. 12 hours hiatus and
would be spending the night at the terminal. ‘Welcome to Saudi Arabia’.
Salespeople don’t understand English even at
the international airport, however overcome the language handicap
through sign language, adding to the grievance, at the local SAWA sim counter,
no new sim numbers were available.
As if it was not enough, the
driver who left to get the car was again lost. Once more I had to borrow
phone from a kind Pakistani passenger and called Mariafe intimating her of the
lost baggage and the missing agent cum driver; who suddenly made appeared in
the middle of our conversation. incidences and coincidences were events of the night. It was 1230 am when we left the international
airport and shuttled to the domestic one. ‘khuda hafiz’ the agent left.
We took the
seat near the cafeteria and slept, waking up intermittently. Finally at 4 am got
fresh in the wash room and went for a cup of tea.
Black tea cost 6 riyals while
milk tea cost 4. I placed the cup on the table and went to fetch the sugar and
starrier. The table with one shorter leg skewed, pouring all the tea on my only
trousers, table and the floor. I went for another cup, the counter guy knowing
of the cup slipped offered for free. Small gesture well appreciated.

For my third
and the last flight I had the first seat in business class. After a sully night
at the terminal, I leisurely enjoyed the space, coziness and breakfast. Early
morning it felt cool at Tabuk. God gracious it’s not yet desert hot; was hotter
back in India.
The driver was waiting. Initially he didn’t mind me calling office on his phone, the next time however he came up with excuse of 'low balance'. For the first time I had a driver who did not play the local music although he had some old fashioned audio tape cassettes, instead he sang to himself. People here love to sing songs or recite Quran. He paid for his tea and breakfast, quite unusual as habitually you pay for the driver meal and refreshments. I went for a nap on the way, driving across the paved road across the desert hill terrain.
Two hours
drive across the hills and valleys we were at the Al-Fal hotel at Duba. Joy,
who was on another flight had arrived ahead of me. The manager offered one two
bed room to us. Customarily each person has his own hotel room. I don’t know yet,
if it is the agent or my company, compromising the standard!
A double
breakfast felt invigorating, omelets and egg bhurji (scrambled egg) with
kafoosh (local bread), on the roadside table. Walked down the road looking for
SAWA sim outlet, it being Friday, we were received by closed shops. Tired of
the travel and the long walk around the town, I slumped in the hotel bed. Late
lunch, large mutton biryani plate for 20 rihyals, at 4 at the malyalees run
restaurant. Against hop, we walked up to the SAWA shop to find it closed once
more. Local and molyalee shopkeepers opened for business at 440 pm after the
namaz.
Sent a mail
to office, agent and the airlines about the misplaced baggage. The day passed
without any news of the baggage so evening at 8 walked in the nearby
supermarket and bought toiletries and clothes.
The next day
morning saw us walked back to the SAWA shop and finally we managed to obtain a
new sim. For breakfast omelets, khapoos with black tea was served in the room.
to be continued...