Amar Janla Diye (View from my window)
The flight from Delhi was ok. When the flight is long; you realise the value of first class leg room. The service on Swiss i must say was bad, they mixed up between tea and coffee, after they had taken back my cup, promising to correct it, they never returned.
Zurich Airport is out in the country and so I did not get to see the skyline at all. The airport is huge and very modern to me. There was a metro ride between the arrival and departure terminals. The walls of the tunnel were painted with pictures of a woman kissing the window and since the train passes through it creates the optical illusion of a motion picture; very clever but why did they make it I did not understand.
The trip to Paris was uneventful; again, I was unable to see the Paris view from air. It was a cloudy day and quite humid.
[right now: got hungry had to go the Indian grocery across the street to get a bar of chocolate]
Wandered around the airport for sometime till I found out the train Station and bought a 3 day Paris Pass. Found a wi-fi lounge and sent out a few emails.
I planned to go to Kellermann institute which had some room available 2 days ago. I could not book the room as I did not have a card. The metro route directly to the hostel was closed so I had to change the metro and then take the tram. This involved lot of questions and directions, all of which was very difficult to understand. However a gentleman was very helpful and walked me to the place. I reached Kellermann and found out that not only it but ‘all’ of the hostels in Paris were full. After a number of phone calls and useless reference to the ‘Lonely Planet’ [note to self and others Lonely Planet is not very helpful] I found out that Peace and Love Hostel had a room available. However I had to reach there before anyone else came and took the place.
The race to Peace and love hotel was not fun. I was not conversant with the metro system and apart from the station at the airport there are no signs in English [note to French authorities: people don’t learn French in one metro ride]. The ride was not helped by the fact that I had to make a change and the trains were full, due to the partial line closure, and that I was lugging around 25 kilos of baggage with me.
This brings me to the funny incident. I was being buffeted around in the metro and my rucksack which had been under the loving care of not two, not three but four baggage handling crews had come loose. On the top was a deodorant, a tie and a pair of boxer shorts [explanation to others: the boxer shorts were washed late and so were packed last, in fact they were not fully dry when I packed them in Kolkata] which were jacket. Due to the pushing and pulling the jacket slipped and the named contents fell out. The deodorant fell down and rolled under a seat, the tie was dangling from the side of the rucksack and (I know you have been waiting for this) black and white checked pair of boxers landed on the rucksack of a lady traveller. I had noticed the deodorant and managed to retrieve it (sans the cap) and was busy stuffing the handmade silk tie back in the bag when the lady realising that I had not noticed my humiliation decided to gently tap me and point at the ‘personal belonging' neatly lying on the rucksack. My reflexes were lightning fast, but I could see the smiles on the faces of my fellow travellers for quite some time.
After quite some travelling and asking directions I was finally able to reach Peace and Love Hostel, only to learn from the bartender at the bar (who also happened to be the manager) that the room had been already let out.
A beer was the only thing that kept my spirits up. It had been a thirteen hours of flying from Delhi, on a plane which had [note to the Sikh community: no disrespect meant; this could be anybody] four ‘surdlings’ who kept crying in turns to ensure no one in the flight could as much as wink, and almost four hours of running around Paris for a room, I was exhausted. While sipping beer and thinking about which of the numerous beautiful parks I had passed by would be the best for the night, I noticed a sign stating ‘this is a Wi-Fi zone’. After a few enquires to the bartender who spoke perfect English and was helpful, I learnt that it was free. Out came my Vaio [note to people in my college: who don’t know or believe that I own a beautiful Vaio; I do and it turns heads even in Paris] and the internet was much more helpful. I got a few numbers, put my luggage in the kitchen of Peace and Love Hotel and went looking for a phone booth. My numbers were just not clicking till finally a Hostel manager suggested that I try a Hotel du Paris, a bit on the steeper side, not to my comfort, but I finally had a room. This involved getting directions in French over the phone, writing them incorrectly and then finally making it after a couple of metro trips and half an hour of walking around with 150 kilos of baggage [note to everyone: I know the is some discrepancy with the numbers but it is true, cannot explain the phenomena].
The room is very small and very nice, tomorrow I will try uploading some pictures. A hot shower (I was able to achieve the optimum mix of hot and cold quite quickly, any traveller will know how important and difficult this is, to achieve this in a new place) and a meal [note to everyone: read meal as doner kebab unless the contrary is specifically mentioned] put me to bed and a deep and comfortable sleep.
The flight from Delhi was ok. When the flight is long; you realise the value of first class leg room. The service on Swiss i must say was bad, they mixed up between tea and coffee, after they had taken back my cup, promising to correct it, they never returned.
Zurich Airport is out in the country and so I did not get to see the skyline at all. The airport is huge and very modern to me. There was a metro ride between the arrival and departure terminals. The walls of the tunnel were painted with pictures of a woman kissing the window and since the train passes through it creates the optical illusion of a motion picture; very clever but why did they make it I did not understand.
The trip to Paris was uneventful; again, I was unable to see the Paris view from air. It was a cloudy day and quite humid.
[right now: got hungry had to go the Indian grocery across the street to get a bar of chocolate]
Wandered around the airport for sometime till I found out the train Station and bought a 3 day Paris Pass. Found a wi-fi lounge and sent out a few emails.
I planned to go to Kellermann institute which had some room available 2 days ago. I could not book the room as I did not have a card. The metro route directly to the hostel was closed so I had to change the metro and then take the tram. This involved lot of questions and directions, all of which was very difficult to understand. However a gentleman was very helpful and walked me to the place. I reached Kellermann and found out that not only it but ‘all’ of the hostels in Paris were full. After a number of phone calls and useless reference to the ‘Lonely Planet’ [note to self and others Lonely Planet is not very helpful] I found out that Peace and Love Hostel had a room available. However I had to reach there before anyone else came and took the place.
The race to Peace and love hotel was not fun. I was not conversant with the metro system and apart from the station at the airport there are no signs in English [note to French authorities: people don’t learn French in one metro ride]. The ride was not helped by the fact that I had to make a change and the trains were full, due to the partial line closure, and that I was lugging around 25 kilos of baggage with me.
This brings me to the funny incident. I was being buffeted around in the metro and my rucksack which had been under the loving care of not two, not three but four baggage handling crews had come loose. On the top was a deodorant, a tie and a pair of boxer shorts [explanation to others: the boxer shorts were washed late and so were packed last, in fact they were not fully dry when I packed them in Kolkata] which were jacket. Due to the pushing and pulling the jacket slipped and the named contents fell out. The deodorant fell down and rolled under a seat, the tie was dangling from the side of the rucksack and (I know you have been waiting for this) black and white checked pair of boxers landed on the rucksack of a lady traveller. I had noticed the deodorant and managed to retrieve it (sans the cap) and was busy stuffing the handmade silk tie back in the bag when the lady realising that I had not noticed my humiliation decided to gently tap me and point at the ‘personal belonging' neatly lying on the rucksack. My reflexes were lightning fast, but I could see the smiles on the faces of my fellow travellers for quite some time.
After quite some travelling and asking directions I was finally able to reach Peace and Love Hostel, only to learn from the bartender at the bar (who also happened to be the manager) that the room had been already let out.
A beer was the only thing that kept my spirits up. It had been a thirteen hours of flying from Delhi, on a plane which had [note to the Sikh community: no disrespect meant; this could be anybody] four ‘surdlings’ who kept crying in turns to ensure no one in the flight could as much as wink, and almost four hours of running around Paris for a room, I was exhausted. While sipping beer and thinking about which of the numerous beautiful parks I had passed by would be the best for the night, I noticed a sign stating ‘this is a Wi-Fi zone’. After a few enquires to the bartender who spoke perfect English and was helpful, I learnt that it was free. Out came my Vaio [note to people in my college: who don’t know or believe that I own a beautiful Vaio; I do and it turns heads even in Paris] and the internet was much more helpful. I got a few numbers, put my luggage in the kitchen of Peace and Love Hotel and went looking for a phone booth. My numbers were just not clicking till finally a Hostel manager suggested that I try a Hotel du Paris, a bit on the steeper side, not to my comfort, but I finally had a room. This involved getting directions in French over the phone, writing them incorrectly and then finally making it after a couple of metro trips and half an hour of walking around with 150 kilos of baggage [note to everyone: I know the is some discrepancy with the numbers but it is true, cannot explain the phenomena].
The room is very small and very nice, tomorrow I will try uploading some pictures. A hot shower (I was able to achieve the optimum mix of hot and cold quite quickly, any traveller will know how important and difficult this is, to achieve this in a new place) and a meal [note to everyone: read meal as doner kebab unless the contrary is specifically mentioned] put me to bed and a deep and comfortable sleep.
9 comments:
Shubho... that was a hell of a first day.
I guess, we are very used to travel to a new place and know that there is a room waiting for us. I wish you get a decent (affordable) room fast.
On the wierder note: i wonder why all signs are in French? You think its deliberate? (previously, South India was equally French to us, now they have changd though.)
Aww...poor baby! But what an adventure! If every day of your stay is as adventurous, you'll have a nice book ready by the time you get back!!
Incredible! Pretty eventful indeed.
Tho' fact that your Vaio intrigues e'en the Europeans was a bit too much. I know it's good but stop bragging!
Heh heh heh... Vaio and all... but don't show off your Paris trip and all... Anyway is your vaio a SZ-76 or better? becoz... well.. samajh ne waley ke liye ishara hi kaafi hai1 ;-)
quite good in fact.....
but seriously boss if i want to see photos of architecture and all then i would just as well Google it....
put people and show photos of Paris that only a person who is physically there can see...
and above all show the People....
like the bartender who helped you or the peace and love hotel where you took a breather or of the person who walked you to the train when you were lost....
just a suggestion.
anyways keep us informed of your exploits.
ahem...well, i expected a bit more from you, honestly. but i was wondering about the boner kebab though...din't know you liked that...well hostels in India...;)
What kind of 'day 1' is this... that last for more than three days?
Oh how this reminds me of my first night in Kolkata! :) Only you should be glad you didn't get cheated and fooled.
Btw, I realized, while traveling down south from Heidelberg to Freiburg and Zürich, that the announcements on German train stations and in the local trains are completely in German. That gave me the opportunity of helping an English guy getting the right train, whom I probably wouldn't have talked to otherwise.
God save the Döner Kebab!
Post a Comment