it's getting harder by the minute to love france
finally in new delhi and am at a computer with a fucking NORMAL keyboard. damn french keyboards... (geez - who the hell makes the period key and all of the numbers shift keys?)
mar 2 11:20 pm - had a pleasant albeit overpriced - spanish dinner with perfectdrug_151 and tristella. after getting to the heathrow hilton, i check in and tiredly but politely ask the front desk lady for a hellacious 4:30 wakeup call. she tells me i can set my own wakeup call in the room. maybe it was just my being tired, but she sure sounded like she couldn't be bothered to help set it up for me. i give her a quick "are you kidding me?" look, but tiredly shrug it off. it's just one more reason why i try to avoid the hilton franchise when booking business travel. the sheraton in florida has never objected to such a request.
mar 3 4:20 am - wake up *without* the assistance of the alarm, which is set to go off in 10 minutes. either my body clock is very worried about missing the flight, or else i've got some serious jetlag.
4:45 am - out the door for a very long walk to terminal 2. that the hilton claims it is attached to terminal 4 is irrelevant. the fine print will indicate you will spend 7 minutes walking through a non-temperature-controlled walkway, which sucks balls when it's below freezing outside. at least the inter-terminal portion of the heathrow express is on time and free of charge.
5:40 am - arrive to air france check-in desk only to find a monster line stretching to the door. hey look - no line for biz class passengers! yay! (i am such a spoiled little shit) your gate will be displayed on the monitors shortly, monsieur. unfortunately, as i enter the air france lounge 10 minutes later, this will be my last happy thought for a hella long time.
6:15 am - the gate for my flight is still not displaying on the terminal monitors. i ask the lounge attendant what's the deal. zere is ah delay. i don't haff any more informacion yet.
6:45 am - do you know how long the flight is going to be delayed? i have a connection i am trying to catch. ze whole airport ees closed. ah don't haf any informacion about ze flights in paree but zere are no flights right now. we should haf an update around 10 or 10:30. (oh shit)
9:30 am - after numerous additional check-ins with the attendant with no further updates, she asks me "monsieur, did i give you a breakfast voucher?" no, i've only been waiting here for 4 fricking hours. i get a voucher for 5 pounds, which is about enough to cover maybe 3 of the offerings on the menu in the restaurant upstairs. gee thanks. too bad i couldn't use it as a coupon to buy some chocolate or something in duty free, eh? i scarf down some eggs, toast and bacon - the only proper food i have eaten in the last 5 hours.
9:48 am - i return to the lounge only to see we finally have a gate. #12. off i go.
10:30 am - push back... and we're off.
12:15 pm - (looking out the window at various stationary objects) they closed the whole airport down for 2 INCHES of snow?! god, i hope that delhi flight got delayed.
12:25 pm - oops. guess it got out of here before we got in. how the hell does that flight get delayed by only 1 hour, but our 40-minute hop gets pushed by 4 hours?! fuckers. (as i am to find out later, the plane had only minutes before lifted off)
12:35 pm - in line at the transfer desk in 2F. line monitor asks to see my ticket. oh no, monsieur - you need to go to 2A. wait a sec. isn't all of this air france? what? 2F and 2A are two different planets or something? erg. off to the intra-terminal bus.
12:45 pm - in line at the transfer desk in 2A. there are 6 college-aged girls using the biz class line and quite obviously not business or first. naturally, they take a ton of time. lovely.
1:15 pm - rebooked on the next morning's flight. gorgeous woman, shit attitude. we are putting you up een zee sofitel 'otel. we will pay for one launch, one deenair and one breakfast tomorrow. ok, well this bag has nothing but dirty clothes in it. is there anything you can do - maybe a voucher for the hotel to wash my shirt so i have something clean to wear tomorrow? no, i'm sorry, monsieur. all uzzer expenses you weel af to pay for yourself. ok i have a lot of business meetings tomorrow i need to cancel and a hotel reservation that will get cancelled if i don't contact the hotel. can you at least give me access to a telephone line or maybe an internet connection? i'm sorry, monsieur, i am only empowered to stonewall you until you leave me alone. i look at her as if i am about to slap her silly. finally... here is a phone carte you can use. it's good for 10 minutes. i have a lot more business calls to make than 10 minutes. you know, monsieur, we do not af to do all zees for you. i give her an incredulous look that she would have the temerity to say something like that to someone who has spent nearly $7K on the airfare. i'm sorry, monsieur. yeah, well, i'm sorry too. (bitch) i head through passport control to the hotel shuttle pickup point.
1:50 pm - after a seemingly endless wait outside in subzero temperatures trying to hide from the horizontal sleet and snow, the shuttle finally comes.
2:05 pm - arrive at the sofitel hotel. i notice the sign marks it as a 4-star hotel and it looks ok from the lobby. a rude frenchwoman cuts in front of me in line. i nearly lose it, but decide getting arrested in a foreign country for beating the shit out of some rude bitch is perhaps not the way to go. agent #1 says next please. ok, blah blah blah... i'm afraid your room is not yet ready. please wait over zere at zee bar. eet will be 15 to 20 meenutes.
2:30 pm - (asking a different agent) is my room ready yet? will it be much longer? i'm sorry, monsieur. eet ees still not ready. ok, well, can i get my lunch voucher so i can at least eat lunch while i wait? i'm sorry, monsieur. zee restaurant ees closed now and you cannot get room service because you do not yet af a room. *bewildered stare* i walk away.
3:30 pm - (this time to a third agent - it's like musical chairs back there apparently) is my room ready yet? eet ees still not ready. another 15-20 minutes. 15-20 minutes? you said 15 minutes an hour and a half ago! how long does it take to clean a room?! i'm sorry, monsieur. we are very busy today - almost completely full - eet ees taking a long time.
4:00 pm - is my room ready yet? (agent #3) eet should be ready shortly. anuzzer 10-15 minutes. i wonder if any of these people work at the local chinese take-out joint.
4:07 pm - the lady walks over and gives me my room key. i get to my room - gee that's neat - a special floor reserved for air france customers. ok, the room is nice - not gorgeous, but nice. eh? the phone doesn't work except for calling card calls. of course, the air france calling card i just got doesn't work up here - probably have to use the damn phones in the lobby. and there is no place for a modem dial-up or a broadband connection. wait a sec. this is a 4-star hotel? shit, i can get an internet connection in a motel 6. (in retrospect, i suppose this is done purposely so customers don't abuse the hell out of air france with miscellaneous charges, which i would surely do if i had the opportunity)
4:50 pm - i inquire at the concierge desk about any business center at the hotel where i can use the internet to look up some phone numbers and send some business e-mails letting various folks know about my situation. the concierge says there is none (!), but if i won't be long, i can use his computer at the concierge counter. the keyboard is impossible to use. check out this diagram if you've never seen the layout of a french keyboard. or click here and use the dropdown menu for a more graphical version. nasty huh?
5:00 pm - i decide that i have wasted the entire day and have no desire to traipse about in sub-freezing paris to go hunting for artisanal cheeses. i hop the shuttle back to the terminal intent on finding an electrical adaptor for my laptop or perhaps something to read to tie me over the night. the driver is so thoughtful, leaving the window open while he smokes. of course, this makes the interior about 34 degrees F. interestingly, the guy next to me - who presumably is as big an imbecile in french as i am - does not complain either though he is clearly uncomfortable sitting in the draft behind the driver. the driver barks something unintelligible in french. i conclude there is only one thing he could be asking - which section of terminal 2? (A-F). the other guy - now revealed to be an englishman of sorts - and i both say in unison 2-A.
5:15 pm - hey, isn't that 2A that just passed by?
5:20 pm - we arrive at terminal 2E. lovely. it dawns on me exactly what has happened. *sigh* but i'd rather walk than deal with the arctic shuttle.
eventually, i make my way back to the hotel, have dinner consisting of my newest gourmet obsession - french onion soup with gruyere croutons, a tarragon chicken which was a little bland (i guess i should have accepted the waiter's offer of some mustard), and a yummy apple tarte. mmm... too bad i have to retire back to my room which has all of 9 tv channels, 6 in french, RAI in italian, BBC (the only english channel - and just a tad unexciting to watch them talk about nothing other than martha stewart getting out of prison) and the last one rotating between korean and god-only-knows what other languages. *sigh* guess i get to read my shitty magazines for the umpteenth time.
the next day was fine, but it came as no surprise when my seatmate in 4B told me that in his 18 years of flying air france, they are wonderful inside the plane, but god forbid you ever have to deal with them outside of the metal tube with wings.
if only i had known sooner.
the next day... improvements abound. the flight is fine, and i am quite intrigued by being in the front of the cabin and not having a cockpit in front of me. (we flew in a 747 with the cockpit above) equally intriguing is my flight attendant who bears an uncanny resemblance to natalie gomes (hey - i wonder if there is a yuval look-alike on the plane as well). will post a pic when i get home. dinner is lovely and i start watching what i can only describe as the french version of bridget jones' diary, a movie called tu vas rire mais je te quitte starring a rather hot judith godrèche. having slept poorly the previous night, i can't help but crash shortly afterwards, only to be greeted with a raging headache an hour before landing.
my first day in delhi has been terrific. we started by meeting our local contact and his wife for some shopping at connaught place and janpath. i have scored a $5 backgammon set i had planned earlier to get for my brother, a couple of trinkets and two scarves that i can only hope and pray will make up for my earlier shopping gaffe on my last visit to delhi. (picking up fake material scarves for cheap and in colors that were, uhh, not liked). instead of what i deem a riskier attempt to ascertain an appropriate shade of pink, i opt instead for a light blue pashmina scarf for a rather amazing $60 and a two-sided red/pink/white silk/cash blend for $25. as it is starting to get much warmer in delhi (high 70s), the selection is a bit limited, but i will keep my fingers crossed that at least one of the selections will be happily accepted.
we then proceeded to have a very expensive lunch (~$50/head) at the oberoi hotel (hey ailian, what do you think of that?! yasuda is a walk in the park in comparison! we then joined one of the local vp's for golf at a local course. i decide i can just come to hang out with everyone to network and such as i have never played a round of golf in my life, but i am not allowed on the course unless i am playing. so, the vp guy pays a few bucks for me and suddenly i am playing my very first front 9 holes of golf. if i had to guess, i probably shot an 80 or so, but started to connect pretty well toward the later holes. friends, do not let me get hooked on this game. i will become overly competitive and eventually go tiger woods on my business partners. yes, that will cost me many business deals.
afterwards, it was off to the vp's home where we chatted it up for a few hours and then returned to our hotel for a late bite to eat (~9:30) at the pub downstairs. our host from the earlier shopping excursion has collected his visiting sister and they call us to let us know the 3 of them will be coming to the pub as it turns into a rather trendy disco around 11-ish. so yes, we ended up dancing a bit to round out the day.
and so here i am in my room, just after 5 am catching up on e-mails and such.
oh. and updating my LJ of course.
mar 2 11:20 pm - had a pleasant albeit overpriced - spanish dinner with perfectdrug_151 and tristella. after getting to the heathrow hilton, i check in and tiredly but politely ask the front desk lady for a hellacious 4:30 wakeup call. she tells me i can set my own wakeup call in the room. maybe it was just my being tired, but she sure sounded like she couldn't be bothered to help set it up for me. i give her a quick "are you kidding me?" look, but tiredly shrug it off. it's just one more reason why i try to avoid the hilton franchise when booking business travel. the sheraton in florida has never objected to such a request.
mar 3 4:20 am - wake up *without* the assistance of the alarm, which is set to go off in 10 minutes. either my body clock is very worried about missing the flight, or else i've got some serious jetlag.
4:45 am - out the door for a very long walk to terminal 2. that the hilton claims it is attached to terminal 4 is irrelevant. the fine print will indicate you will spend 7 minutes walking through a non-temperature-controlled walkway, which sucks balls when it's below freezing outside. at least the inter-terminal portion of the heathrow express is on time and free of charge.
5:40 am - arrive to air france check-in desk only to find a monster line stretching to the door. hey look - no line for biz class passengers! yay! (i am such a spoiled little shit) your gate will be displayed on the monitors shortly, monsieur. unfortunately, as i enter the air france lounge 10 minutes later, this will be my last happy thought for a hella long time.
6:15 am - the gate for my flight is still not displaying on the terminal monitors. i ask the lounge attendant what's the deal. zere is ah delay. i don't haff any more informacion yet.
6:45 am - do you know how long the flight is going to be delayed? i have a connection i am trying to catch. ze whole airport ees closed. ah don't haf any informacion about ze flights in paree but zere are no flights right now. we should haf an update around 10 or 10:30. (oh shit)
9:30 am - after numerous additional check-ins with the attendant with no further updates, she asks me "monsieur, did i give you a breakfast voucher?" no, i've only been waiting here for 4 fricking hours. i get a voucher for 5 pounds, which is about enough to cover maybe 3 of the offerings on the menu in the restaurant upstairs. gee thanks. too bad i couldn't use it as a coupon to buy some chocolate or something in duty free, eh? i scarf down some eggs, toast and bacon - the only proper food i have eaten in the last 5 hours.
9:48 am - i return to the lounge only to see we finally have a gate. #12. off i go.
10:30 am - push back... and we're off.
12:15 pm - (looking out the window at various stationary objects) they closed the whole airport down for 2 INCHES of snow?! god, i hope that delhi flight got delayed.
12:25 pm - oops. guess it got out of here before we got in. how the hell does that flight get delayed by only 1 hour, but our 40-minute hop gets pushed by 4 hours?! fuckers. (as i am to find out later, the plane had only minutes before lifted off)
12:35 pm - in line at the transfer desk in 2F. line monitor asks to see my ticket. oh no, monsieur - you need to go to 2A. wait a sec. isn't all of this air france? what? 2F and 2A are two different planets or something? erg. off to the intra-terminal bus.
12:45 pm - in line at the transfer desk in 2A. there are 6 college-aged girls using the biz class line and quite obviously not business or first. naturally, they take a ton of time. lovely.
1:15 pm - rebooked on the next morning's flight. gorgeous woman, shit attitude. we are putting you up een zee sofitel 'otel. we will pay for one launch, one deenair and one breakfast tomorrow. ok, well this bag has nothing but dirty clothes in it. is there anything you can do - maybe a voucher for the hotel to wash my shirt so i have something clean to wear tomorrow? no, i'm sorry, monsieur. all uzzer expenses you weel af to pay for yourself. ok i have a lot of business meetings tomorrow i need to cancel and a hotel reservation that will get cancelled if i don't contact the hotel. can you at least give me access to a telephone line or maybe an internet connection? i'm sorry, monsieur, i am only empowered to stonewall you until you leave me alone. i look at her as if i am about to slap her silly. finally... here is a phone carte you can use. it's good for 10 minutes. i have a lot more business calls to make than 10 minutes. you know, monsieur, we do not af to do all zees for you. i give her an incredulous look that she would have the temerity to say something like that to someone who has spent nearly $7K on the airfare. i'm sorry, monsieur. yeah, well, i'm sorry too. (bitch) i head through passport control to the hotel shuttle pickup point.
1:50 pm - after a seemingly endless wait outside in subzero temperatures trying to hide from the horizontal sleet and snow, the shuttle finally comes.
2:05 pm - arrive at the sofitel hotel. i notice the sign marks it as a 4-star hotel and it looks ok from the lobby. a rude frenchwoman cuts in front of me in line. i nearly lose it, but decide getting arrested in a foreign country for beating the shit out of some rude bitch is perhaps not the way to go. agent #1 says next please. ok, blah blah blah... i'm afraid your room is not yet ready. please wait over zere at zee bar. eet will be 15 to 20 meenutes.
2:30 pm - (asking a different agent) is my room ready yet? will it be much longer? i'm sorry, monsieur. eet ees still not ready. ok, well, can i get my lunch voucher so i can at least eat lunch while i wait? i'm sorry, monsieur. zee restaurant ees closed now and you cannot get room service because you do not yet af a room. *bewildered stare* i walk away.
3:30 pm - (this time to a third agent - it's like musical chairs back there apparently) is my room ready yet? eet ees still not ready. another 15-20 minutes. 15-20 minutes? you said 15 minutes an hour and a half ago! how long does it take to clean a room?! i'm sorry, monsieur. we are very busy today - almost completely full - eet ees taking a long time.
4:00 pm - is my room ready yet? (agent #3) eet should be ready shortly. anuzzer 10-15 minutes. i wonder if any of these people work at the local chinese take-out joint.
4:07 pm - the lady walks over and gives me my room key. i get to my room - gee that's neat - a special floor reserved for air france customers. ok, the room is nice - not gorgeous, but nice. eh? the phone doesn't work except for calling card calls. of course, the air france calling card i just got doesn't work up here - probably have to use the damn phones in the lobby. and there is no place for a modem dial-up or a broadband connection. wait a sec. this is a 4-star hotel? shit, i can get an internet connection in a motel 6. (in retrospect, i suppose this is done purposely so customers don't abuse the hell out of air france with miscellaneous charges, which i would surely do if i had the opportunity)
4:50 pm - i inquire at the concierge desk about any business center at the hotel where i can use the internet to look up some phone numbers and send some business e-mails letting various folks know about my situation. the concierge says there is none (!), but if i won't be long, i can use his computer at the concierge counter. the keyboard is impossible to use. check out this diagram if you've never seen the layout of a french keyboard. or click here and use the dropdown menu for a more graphical version. nasty huh?
5:00 pm - i decide that i have wasted the entire day and have no desire to traipse about in sub-freezing paris to go hunting for artisanal cheeses. i hop the shuttle back to the terminal intent on finding an electrical adaptor for my laptop or perhaps something to read to tie me over the night. the driver is so thoughtful, leaving the window open while he smokes. of course, this makes the interior about 34 degrees F. interestingly, the guy next to me - who presumably is as big an imbecile in french as i am - does not complain either though he is clearly uncomfortable sitting in the draft behind the driver. the driver barks something unintelligible in french. i conclude there is only one thing he could be asking - which section of terminal 2? (A-F). the other guy - now revealed to be an englishman of sorts - and i both say in unison 2-A.
5:15 pm - hey, isn't that 2A that just passed by?
5:20 pm - we arrive at terminal 2E. lovely. it dawns on me exactly what has happened. *sigh* but i'd rather walk than deal with the arctic shuttle.
eventually, i make my way back to the hotel, have dinner consisting of my newest gourmet obsession - french onion soup with gruyere croutons, a tarragon chicken which was a little bland (i guess i should have accepted the waiter's offer of some mustard), and a yummy apple tarte. mmm... too bad i have to retire back to my room which has all of 9 tv channels, 6 in french, RAI in italian, BBC (the only english channel - and just a tad unexciting to watch them talk about nothing other than martha stewart getting out of prison) and the last one rotating between korean and god-only-knows what other languages. *sigh* guess i get to read my shitty magazines for the umpteenth time.
the next day was fine, but it came as no surprise when my seatmate in 4B told me that in his 18 years of flying air france, they are wonderful inside the plane, but god forbid you ever have to deal with them outside of the metal tube with wings.
if only i had known sooner.
the next day... improvements abound. the flight is fine, and i am quite intrigued by being in the front of the cabin and not having a cockpit in front of me. (we flew in a 747 with the cockpit above) equally intriguing is my flight attendant who bears an uncanny resemblance to natalie gomes (hey - i wonder if there is a yuval look-alike on the plane as well). will post a pic when i get home. dinner is lovely and i start watching what i can only describe as the french version of bridget jones' diary, a movie called tu vas rire mais je te quitte starring a rather hot judith godrèche. having slept poorly the previous night, i can't help but crash shortly afterwards, only to be greeted with a raging headache an hour before landing.
my first day in delhi has been terrific. we started by meeting our local contact and his wife for some shopping at connaught place and janpath. i have scored a $5 backgammon set i had planned earlier to get for my brother, a couple of trinkets and two scarves that i can only hope and pray will make up for my earlier shopping gaffe on my last visit to delhi. (picking up fake material scarves for cheap and in colors that were, uhh, not liked). instead of what i deem a riskier attempt to ascertain an appropriate shade of pink, i opt instead for a light blue pashmina scarf for a rather amazing $60 and a two-sided red/pink/white silk/cash blend for $25. as it is starting to get much warmer in delhi (high 70s), the selection is a bit limited, but i will keep my fingers crossed that at least one of the selections will be happily accepted.
we then proceeded to have a very expensive lunch (~$50/head) at the oberoi hotel (hey ailian, what do you think of that?! yasuda is a walk in the park in comparison! we then joined one of the local vp's for golf at a local course. i decide i can just come to hang out with everyone to network and such as i have never played a round of golf in my life, but i am not allowed on the course unless i am playing. so, the vp guy pays a few bucks for me and suddenly i am playing my very first front 9 holes of golf. if i had to guess, i probably shot an 80 or so, but started to connect pretty well toward the later holes. friends, do not let me get hooked on this game. i will become overly competitive and eventually go tiger woods on my business partners. yes, that will cost me many business deals.
afterwards, it was off to the vp's home where we chatted it up for a few hours and then returned to our hotel for a late bite to eat (~9:30) at the pub downstairs. our host from the earlier shopping excursion has collected his visiting sister and they call us to let us know the 3 of them will be coming to the pub as it turns into a rather trendy disco around 11-ish. so yes, we ended up dancing a bit to round out the day.
and so here i am in my room, just after 5 am catching up on e-mails and such.
oh. and updating my LJ of course.