Sri Lanka

"No, no not, not possible" The guy at the check-in desk tells me.
Again.
I think it's his favorite phrase.

I'm standing in Mumbai airport, in my usual "traveling attire" of thin bush-shirt, grey cargoes and hiking boots, all of which are now looking as knackered as I feel.
"Sir" I start yet again, rubbing the tiredness from my face " as far as I am concerned, there is no paper ticket, and we are supposed to arrive in Bangkok on Tuesday evening, where we're meeting a friend. Please, help me here, as I don't know what to do- I have paid for my flight, yet now you say I cannot take it? We need to go to Bangkok"
"No, no, you cannot fly to Bangkok" He say's, with a smirk at the check-in girl next to him.

I took a deep breath, and shot a warning look at Mrs. G who was snapping something at him.
(Calm down dear- we need his help)
"Um, why is the flight not going?" I ask gently, with a pained smile.
He looks at the screen, types a bit, and tells me it's now going to Hong Kong. I look at him, and gesture to keep going.
"You can fly to Bangkok...um... Wednesday morning!" He says triumphantly.
"No earlier?" I ask with a shit-eating grin, too tired to explain yet again how we have to be in Bangkok on Tuesday.
I've had about 16 hours sleep over the past 5 nights, and it's starting to show.
"No! You should have confirmed your flights; it's down to you, not my airlines responsibility!" He says, reprimanding me, and giving another smirk and head-shake to the check-in girl.

I pause. Then I shoot my hand forward, grab his throat in my fist, and head butt him hard on the nose...

...Actually, I did no such thing (though the thought may have floated about somewhere, I was very tired).

See, we couldn't confirm anything; we did not have internet access or a phone number. Experience has also shown, even if we did get a number (from somewhere), it wouldn't work, they never seem to in India. I shoot another look at Mrs. G, who now looks like she's going to explode. Please, no...

I take a deep breath, "We were traveling so could not confirm, and even if we had confirmed the flight, we would still be in the same situation. You say you have cancelled it last minuet, and there is now no possible way we could ever get to Bangkok on the day we planned, which is really not down to us. So what can we do now?" I look at him with my best puppy-dog look (more pug than puppy I'll admit), hoping the guy can do something other than wind me up.

"You can fly to Sri Lanka, stay at a hotel there, then catch the next flight to Bangkok. That is the only flight to Bangkok we are doing now. You want that flight; we could sort the hotel for you as a stop-over flight?"

"Ok. It’s now the only way, and we can’t afford to buy new flights. Do we need a visa, or will you pay that?" I say as polite as possible.

"I don't know" He says with a smile, as if I've asked the Sri Lankan airline check-in manager a stupid question.

"But the airline will cover the hotel and all that, like you say as a stop-over?" I ask, alarmed.

"Erm, maybe. I think they should do" he says thoughtfully.” But I can’t say for sure. Maybe. You should ask"

I thought I was.

Apparently now booked onto the required flights, I text Becci a foul mouthed run-down of events, and we quickly get some food before falling into our seats on the plane, exhausted. It's 4 am.

The 2 hour or so flight was spent in exhausted semi-consciousness, where I know I eaten breakfast (it was spilt down my shirt), but can't remember receiving it, or struggling like I normally do with the small tray and mountain of crap you have to fit on it.

We landed in Sri Lanka at dawn, and already it was hot- real hot! It had been raining, and the humidity made me feel like I was in a steam room. On auto-pilot we went to airline desks stating our situation, then another desk, through what I think was immigration, mumbled something to another fella who looked like he was "airline", fell into a minibus he pointed to, and fell out again at our airline-supplied hotel. Seems they do sort hotels.

5 star, all inclusive resort hotels, (with swimming pool) on a spotless, raked, yellow sand beach, with the crystal clear sea lapped gently just beyond the palm tree shaded sun loungers. Waiters glide back and forth carrying cold drinks, and I could smell coffee and something nice and spicy cooking for breakfast.
I looked around and noticed everyone was; a) significantly older than us, and b) looked like millionaires, in their European designer gear. I rubbed my stained and damp bush shirt self consciously.

We dripped through the stylishly designed restaurant (all tribal artifacts, hardwood and clean white walls) with our bergens to our room.
Our room was HUGE! With pool and sea view balcony, coffee table, sofa and chairs, hardwood desks, super-kingsize beds, air-con, fans, and enormous bathroom (with an enormous bath), it was simply mind-blowing.
We were use to tiny, windowless rooms with just a toilet and bucket and tap to wash with.

Sri Lanka airlines really know how to f--- you up. But they also really know how to make up for it. They really do.

We collapsed for an hour or so- until the builders started working outside! Sods law never fails when you’re tired, though we managed a bit of kip despite Bob and his mates outside.

So the rest of the day was spent chilling on the beach, making use of the deep bath, and sipping feni and lemonade watching the sun set.

The theme for the restaurant that day was "Sri Lankan" (which I had assumed to be always the case as that's where we were, but there you go) and proper local dishes were laid out in an enormous super-stylish buffet.
So I started tucking down unthinking, as I have for a while now, with the fingers of my right hand. Tearing the bread to mop up the delicious sauces, tearing the chicken apart, and squeezing the rice into mouth-sized pieces mixed with the sauces and vegetables, I was having a great time.
Until I realized this was a five star holiday resort, not a cheap local restaurant.
Everyone was using one of 4 sets of utensils poshly laid out (damn, do you work outside in, or inside out? And which one's the desert fork again?), and the staff were laughing at me. Though they did seem to appreciate it, and brought me some lemon water to wash my fingers in.

Another attempt at sleep was thwarted this time by the biggest tropical storm I've ever experienced. It went on for over 2 hours, with rain that pounded down with a deafening roar. The thunder rolled on and on every minuet or so, making the ground shake, and lightening lit up the world for longer than I thought possible. What was most amazing was that it felt like it was just 10 feet above the roof of our room. For the first time since I was six, the enormous power and volume of the storm made me jumpy, and cringe at each flash and break out of rolling thunder, which I would feel through the floor.

Storm over, and it was time to leave to catch our flight. I was vaguely aware on our minibus drive to the airport something was wrong. It wasn't the numerous security forces with their automatic weapons, we were use to that from Kenya, but it was like something was missing. Then I realised- There were no cows on the road! Or near-death experiences, despite it being nighttime and other traffic was present.

As I got onto the plane, I realised I really had left India. I actually got a pang of loss, like home sickness.

The flight was a pretty quick, maybe 3 hours, so I managed a bit of sleep. But then it was suddenly 5.30am, we were circling Bangkok, and somewhere down there was our mate we should have met the night before.

About then I wondered how good the Red Bull was in Thailand.