bls31
July 13th, 2007, 10:58 AM
It happened long back BLS
Stranded in London
It was a weekend and I was alone in my eighth floor room with the others members of the delegation away to enjoy the free day. A hotel room with thing to do can be terribly oppressive and boring.
Feeling adventures and a bit bold, I came out of Hotel Imperial, in Russell Square, where I was staying, with the earlier experience of travelling by the tube along with Shamsher, an expert on London streets and my unofficial guide, I felt confident of managing the outing on my own, I took the tube to Piccadilly Circus and
After a random walk of window shopping and looking around I bought a ticket to a movie, one of those that run in an unending loop where one can buy a ticket, walk in or walkout any time one feels like.
It was late by the time the movie over, or possibly I got bored with it, and I decided to return back to the hotel, when to my horror and constraint I found that the tube had downed the shutters for the night, to add to my misery, with no umbrella at hand, it also started to rain, the typical English, falling in light sprays.
I, totally unfamiliar with the mega polis, having arrived only a couple of days back and scheduled to leave the next day, felt utterly lost and was a worried Indian . Though stranded in the middle of London, there appeared to be no one around, Gentleman or lady, Indian or English, willing to help m.
The worry of getting stranded increasing by the minute also of the possibility of some untoward incident happening, at back of my mind and a real possibility, making the Headline News the next morning, asking a question as to what a senior Indian Army officer was doing that late in night at a place where he should not have been and more so of getting mugged and loosing the Passport and the precious Pounds in my pocket; the human brain is capable of conjecturing all sort of frightening scenarios.
Many taxis cruised past, some to my surprise driven by ladies, as luck would have it all occupied.
Fortunately the scenarios remained a figment of imagination and never became real, Nothing like what I had been imagining all the time happened and with an unoccupied taxi mercifully appearing and dropping me safe and sound at the hotel, except that throughout the drive I had my eyes riveted on the green digital displays speedily scrolling numerals indicating the alarmingly rising fare by the mile, with me all the time counting the limited cash in my pocket.
The next day at the check out there was a problem ,the instructions from our High Commissioner’s office who were supposed to clear the delegation’s bill ,were not to clear and the hotel clerk insisted on ourselves clearing the bill. It did require some time and effort to sort-out the mess. Half way to the Heathrow airport, I realised that my passport and air ticket was missing, the worst that can happen to any one in a foreign country, especially on a Sunday in UK.
Frantic drive back to the hotel ,exhaustive search of the hotel lobby and the room from I had checked-out produced no results, with tension mounting and a depressed mood I came back to the waiting car, I sat on the front seat, not too sure as to what my next step would be when my hand happen to slide down to the floor of the car and touched the edge of some thing jutting out from under the seat, low and behold it was the missing passport with the air ticket , that had some how slipped and found it’s way under the seat.
In the process we missed the flight on which we were booked and had to take a later flight to Hamburg, our next stop, with the result that there was no one to receive and guide us to the hotel on arrival.
Stranded in London
It was a weekend and I was alone in my eighth floor room with the others members of the delegation away to enjoy the free day. A hotel room with thing to do can be terribly oppressive and boring.
Feeling adventures and a bit bold, I came out of Hotel Imperial, in Russell Square, where I was staying, with the earlier experience of travelling by the tube along with Shamsher, an expert on London streets and my unofficial guide, I felt confident of managing the outing on my own, I took the tube to Piccadilly Circus and
After a random walk of window shopping and looking around I bought a ticket to a movie, one of those that run in an unending loop where one can buy a ticket, walk in or walkout any time one feels like.
It was late by the time the movie over, or possibly I got bored with it, and I decided to return back to the hotel, when to my horror and constraint I found that the tube had downed the shutters for the night, to add to my misery, with no umbrella at hand, it also started to rain, the typical English, falling in light sprays.
I, totally unfamiliar with the mega polis, having arrived only a couple of days back and scheduled to leave the next day, felt utterly lost and was a worried Indian . Though stranded in the middle of London, there appeared to be no one around, Gentleman or lady, Indian or English, willing to help m.
The worry of getting stranded increasing by the minute also of the possibility of some untoward incident happening, at back of my mind and a real possibility, making the Headline News the next morning, asking a question as to what a senior Indian Army officer was doing that late in night at a place where he should not have been and more so of getting mugged and loosing the Passport and the precious Pounds in my pocket; the human brain is capable of conjecturing all sort of frightening scenarios.
Many taxis cruised past, some to my surprise driven by ladies, as luck would have it all occupied.
Fortunately the scenarios remained a figment of imagination and never became real, Nothing like what I had been imagining all the time happened and with an unoccupied taxi mercifully appearing and dropping me safe and sound at the hotel, except that throughout the drive I had my eyes riveted on the green digital displays speedily scrolling numerals indicating the alarmingly rising fare by the mile, with me all the time counting the limited cash in my pocket.
The next day at the check out there was a problem ,the instructions from our High Commissioner’s office who were supposed to clear the delegation’s bill ,were not to clear and the hotel clerk insisted on ourselves clearing the bill. It did require some time and effort to sort-out the mess. Half way to the Heathrow airport, I realised that my passport and air ticket was missing, the worst that can happen to any one in a foreign country, especially on a Sunday in UK.
Frantic drive back to the hotel ,exhaustive search of the hotel lobby and the room from I had checked-out produced no results, with tension mounting and a depressed mood I came back to the waiting car, I sat on the front seat, not too sure as to what my next step would be when my hand happen to slide down to the floor of the car and touched the edge of some thing jutting out from under the seat, low and behold it was the missing passport with the air ticket , that had some how slipped and found it’s way under the seat.
In the process we missed the flight on which we were booked and had to take a later flight to Hamburg, our next stop, with the result that there was no one to receive and guide us to the hotel on arrival.