Tunnel vision

As usually happens when making life-altering moves, the stress involved in such endeavors creates a kind of tunnel vision. A weird state of shock that makes you at once notice the most inane details while, at the same time, completely missing the point of it all. As a result, this first blog, an account of my journey to India, is no more than a list of observations. The completely random thoughts that were on my mind when perhaps I should have been contemplating leaving my family, my country, my home.


While arriving in London for my transfer…

That due to the magic of time difference, I arrived in London slightly before we left. I was tempted to call my past self and warn him not to have the chicken.

(I feel I'm being unfair on the British Airways on-board personnel. To be perfectly honest, the story of me arriving before I left, is somewhat marred by two things:

1.) that we didn't. (though the point is that we could have)
2.) that such a short flight would obviously not feature the serving of any kind of meal that would contain chicken.

I merely included said anecdote to combine the following two observations:

a.) Hey, isn’t it funny how time zones work?
b.) What’s the deal with airline food?

The goal of which was to construct a veritable missile of comedy directed at you, the reader. So rest assured, while I might occasionally mangle the truth in this blog over the coming weeks, I wish merely to entertain.)


While walking through the airport…

That the new daypack I bought kind of made me look like an explorer – no unlike a male Lara Croft. A look instantly ruined by the fact that for the sake of convenience I had opted to wear my money belt over my clothes. That's right. Like a fanny pack.


At customs…

That they seem to no longer make you take your shoes off while changing planes in Heathrow – even when your final destination is a known target for terrorist attacks (hi mom).


At the gate…

That that insanely hot girl (Israeli? Brazilian?) either kept looking at me because she liked what she saw (unlikely, though not impossible) or because she was creeped out by me looking at her (the bitch).


During the pre-flight safety announcement…

That Hindi uses the word "oxygen" for oxygen. Which seems weird at first, but not as much when you realize that the Dutch word for oxygen literally translates as "sour dust".


At the airport in Delhi…

That the new advertisements for HSBC employ fascinating but useless trivia. (Did you know that of all the people who have ever made it to 65, two thirds are still alive? Two thirds! I mean, wow!)


So now there's India. New Delhi. And I couldn't begin to list the things that have been on my mind here. I'm staying in an area of town known as the Pahar Ganj, or Main Bazaar. A dreadlocked, tie-dyed epicenter of backpackerness not unlike Bangkok's Khao San Road. It's busy, noisy and everyone's trying to sell you something. Nothing new so far. I spent all of yesterday looking for my hostel, checking in to said hostel, finding an infinitely better hostel, checking into that hostel, checking out of previous god-awful hostel and moving my stuff to new hostel. It was exhausting and at times frustrating but it was worth it just to learn that I could take it all.

Today I see some of the sights. And I'll find out if it's all worth it…


PS: The current location of the blog is temporary. I've been having some trouble with the new one at travelblog.org.

PS2: Ik twijfel nog een beetje over het gebruik van Nederlands danwel Engels in deze blog. Google Translate blijkt niet zo nuttig als ik had gehoopt en ik weet niet of ik alles twee keer wil schrijven...

In short: it's a work in progress, people, so bear with me.