So after racing around Paris all day , I slept about 6 hours before getting up for our flight to India. Charles d' Gaulle airport is so busy and crowded that you have to arrive at least 2 hours early for your flight - and this turned out to be true. We barely made it through security and it was time to board the plane.
The 10.5 hour plane ride is definitely a good way for one to get used to the fact that everything from now on is going to be PACKED with people. The Air France flight was completely full - and mostly with Indian people. Jairam and I sat next to each other in coach. The flight was actually fine and zoomed by to my absolute delight and disbelief!
We arrived at 1 AM. Again, tons of people. All picking up a lot of bags. And the baggage claim is slow and then there is immigration and customs. And of course I had not printed off a bunch of my documents to help get me into the country, but I just tried to remain inconspicuous and made it through without issue.
Our "driver" met us at the airport and got our bags and drove us into the city to my hotel. And yes I said "driver". Later, I will learn why we have "drivers" and we do not drive ourselves. In a small city with no roads, no traffic laws, and 2 million people, driving is not an option. Plus, it is all on the wrong side like England anyway. The driver and two other guys came to get our bags and then they all squished in the front of the small car while Jairam and I rode in back.
By the time I checked in and got settled, it was 3:30 AM. So I went to sleep for yet, another 6 hours (er,uh, there is starting to be a theme here). Got up at 9:30 AM, went running and got ready for work. Amazingly, I am doing totally fine with the time zone. At this point I was 12.5 hours off my Utah time zone. I was able to work the whole day with no problems.
So there are three things that are just realities:
One - lots of people. And that means lots of people on the sidewalk (oh, and the sidewalks are all broken), lots of cars, and lots of "autos". I love the auto - it's basically a little rickshaw on wheels and it rules the city. There are hundreds of them everywhere. There are very few traffic signals, lanes, or general traffic laws. It is simply a matter of intimidation - the more aggresive guy wins.
So the second reality - everything is Indian food. And I mean everything. We went to a wonderful restaurant for lunch where I learned my own tolerance for spice. When they say mild, it means spicy to me. For dinner, we wanted to walk some of the big main streets with all the shops. Half of them are American shops. I had to laugh at the Pizza Hut, KFC and McDonalds. In fact, Jairam and I decided to grab a quick bite at KFC. And what do you know? It is Indian food. It might be fried chicken, but it is battered and fried with Indian spices.
And three - high heels do not work in this town. Alas, I brought running shoes and 3 pairs of heels. Not one pair of heels, but THREE pairs. I'm some sort of glutton for punishment. The sidewalks are so broken they almost don't count. It's ridiculous. But you have no choice other than to walk on them. Since there are millions of cars and no traffic laws, you step off the sidewalk, you will get hit. So I had to balance, twist and turn through this crap in my heels. It's my only regret so far - why oh why didn't I bring FLAT shoes?!
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