Kathmandu to Munich

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So, rather than give a blow-by-blow account of the multi-leg, 37 hour door-to-door, soul-destroying journey from Kathmandu to Munich, during which I glided around five airports and four planes in an Ed Norton in Fight Club-style insomniac trance, I decided to just make notes of random thoughts and conversations that took place along the way:



Seriously bitch, jumping the queue by one person will not get you to Delhi any quicker.




Why is there a pigeon in departures?



Why am I the only person shocked by the pigeon in departures?



Hmm....let me have a healthy dinner tonight.

"Can I have an iced cafe latte, a Caesar salad with extra cheese, and a Boston nut brownie, please?"

Doh! In fairness, though, I didn't expect the brownie to come covered in warm chocolate sauce!



Three hours down; six to go.



Ah, Bruno Mars. I've missed you. And I'm so glad you think I'm so amazing just the way I am that you feel the need to sing the same song to me four times from whatever shop you are currently in. That's love, right there.



MacD's - the perfect post-midnight snack. A cheese burger and fries. Mmmm....oh f*ck! I'm vegetarian. Fries it is, then.



Hahaha....the person on the tannoy sounds like the Indian call centre guy from Phone Jacker!



3 more hours to kill. F*cking delays.



Come on, take off already! I want to sleep!

(Some time later....)

Oh wow, I slept through take off.



Italian woman: "Parli Italiano?"

Me: "No - English."

She proceeds to speak to me in Italian, then laughs.

Me: (laughing) "Si, si."



Possibly the most entertaining conversation I had, took place in Milan airport:

Man: (aggressively stepping face-to-face with me) "Show me your boarding pass."

Me: "Excuse me?"

Man: "Police. Show me your boarding pass."

Me: "Police?"

Man: (holding up his badge) "Police. Show me your boarding pass."

Me: "Ok." I hand it over.

He mutters something.

Me: "Sorry?"

Man: "Documents! ID!"

Me: (somewhat sarcastically) "Oh, my passport? Here you go."

Man: "Where are you going?"

Me: "Munich."

Man: "Why? Tourism?"

Me: "I'm visiting friends there."

Man: "Where are you coming from?"

Me: "Ha! How long have you got?"

He gives me an unimpressed look.

Me: "Kathmandu, then Delhi, then Brussels, now here -"

Man: (seeing the Indian visa in my passport) "How long in India?"

Me: "About two weeks."

Man: "Why?"

Me: "Visiting friends and travelling."

Man: (smugly) "Right. Come with me."

He leads me to a table and proceeds to unzip my hand-luggage backpack, pulling everything out, including the dirty (as in used, not soiled) underwear I'd removed in Brussels.

Me: (amused, no longer giving a sh*t about the implications of what I say, and echoing my words upon inspection at Heathrow, following my trip to Uganda) "Just out of interest, why me?"

He glances up, but says nothing.

Me: (in a sickly sweet tone) "Do I look like a drug smuggler?"

Still, he says nothing.

Me: (now spurred on by his apparent desire for me to shut the f*ck up) "I've been travelling for 30-odd hours. You'll have to forgive me for looking like a crack-head. I can assure you, I have no drugs."

Man: (nudging my smaller bag) "Open."

I oblige.

Man: (pulling everything out) "What is this?"

Me: "Ibuprofen."

Blank look.

Me: "Pain-killers."

Man: "For what?"

Me: "Headaches, tummy aches -"

Man: "And this?"

Me: "For sinuses."

Man: "And this?"

Me: "Malarone."

Another blank look.

Me: "For Malaria."

Still clueless.

Me: "Mosquitos? Bzzzz...." (swatting an invisible mozzie on my arm) "Ouch!" (dramatically itching said arm)

He remains unamused but shows recognition. The he unfolds a chocolate wrapper.

Me: "Chocolate."

Man: "I know."

Me: (Almost craving a variance in reaction from him by this point) "Please don't put everything in the same pile. It'll take forever to repack."

He begrudgingly separates the contents of my bags into two appropriate piles and continues to unpack the small bag.

Man: "Ok. Go."

And so he walks away, leaving me to repack my bags.

Me: "Have a nice day!"



And, upon arrival at Munich, I was reminded of a Facebook comment I made to Nicki the night before I left Kathmandu:

"You know how lucky I am with regards to never having lost my luggage on a flight? I have a feeling that will change on this one."

Well, I called it.



Me: (standing outside Munich airport in flip-flops, leggings, hoodie and a scarf) "It's bloody freezing!"

Suzanna: (amused) "Polly, it's not that bad. It's 14 degrees."

Whatever.

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Photos

Somewhere over Italy....
....I think.