The Longest Day; our final entry

Time Marches On. And On. And on. and on...

16.03.2019 - 17.03.2019 85 °F

Jaipur Time 6:10am Saturday
Kansas City Time 7:40pm Friday
Elapsed Time: Zero

After what was arguably the best night’s sleep of this entire journey, in terms of “Kansas City Time,” we are awake. In Jaipur, India, it is 6:10 on Saturday morning and our automatic aviary alarm has just sounded; the snooze button reprieve not on offer. The internet confirms that sunrise here is 6:36, dawn is 6:13. Every creature, including us, "up and at 'em" right on time.

India is currently the planet’s second most populous country in terms of humans, in fact we are told that there are 48 babies born every minute. India must be first, though, in the population of noisy birds.

Tiny body clocks all connected, they rise in body and volume in unison. We happily join them but ours is a swan song because this day, our longest day, is our final in indescribable India. And, fortunately for you, our final entry in this Indian Wedding Crashers 13-chapter blog without end.

The fact that we get out of bed at 7:40pm on our hometown’s Friday reinforces the dichotomy in the battle between body clock and wristwatch.

Hannibal Lechter, Cersei Lannister and Stavro Blofeld are rivaled, I think, by Robert Krups. His coffee machine is the very definition of “evil genius” when I first rise, still groggy and disoriented from sleep and in need of coffee. The power button is unmarked. “American” sized cups are foreign to this contraption and, even though provided by our hotelier, do not fit under the machine’s dispenser and above its drip tray. The machine is noisy should your partner still slumber. The coffee itself, however, is quite good. It is simply difficult to brew.

Our breakfast is assured perfect by Assistant Manager – Food and Beverage Service, Drishti Shrivastav.

I note that her name tag identifies her as “Certified Departmental Trainer.” We bond. I ask that I might be educated as to what that entails, and she informs me about both behavioral and departmental training. I am engrossed by what she says and the clear result that their training has created. I request contact information for whoever is in charge of this miracle and she sends me contact information for Sangeetha Gandhi of Oberoi Group in Delhi. I will reach out to see if a possible synergy exists when I return to the U.S.

We consolidate packing and are swiftly transported to the airport—again by Oberoi staff—where we are met—again by Oberoi staff-to facilitate check-in formalities at Air India. Those completed in short order we await flight 646 to Mumbai which is happily posted as “On Time.” We relax in the lounge which really isn’t one and then wait in the gate until boarding is called.

The history of this flight is fraught. Our initial Jet Airways flight from Jaipur to Mumbai was cancelled. Then our backup GoAir flight from Jaipur to Mumbai was cancelled. We ended up on this third choice Air India flight which makes one stop at an air force base in Jodhpur before continuing on to Mumbai. Upon arrival at Jodhpur we are warned to not take photos or videos out the windows. Had we done so, I would now be showing you many jet fighters armed with air to air missiles. However, fearing Indian military jails, I followed instructions and looked but did not shoot.

I was last in Jodhpur on January 2, 2012. Looking back to recall what happened to me on that day, I found that I wrote these words in the blog I posted:
“I long for a cheeseburger. A thick patty, or perhaps two, with grilled onions, an extra slice of tomato, crisp lettuce, mustard and ketchup… Ahh. Oh, and French fries. Later, maybe a steak.”

Mumbai Time 6:10pm Saturday
Kansas City Time 7:40am Saturday
Elapsed Time: 12 Hours

Upon arrival in Mumbai, a half-hour late, we made our way to the United check-in counter which, we discovered, wouldn’t open for over an hour-and-a-half—at 8:00pm. We couldn’t check our big bag so we couldn’t clear security to get to the lounge. We holed up in a bar, “The Square” which forbids the ordering of a soft drink unless you also order alcohol. I ordered a vodka which, at this juncture, seemed to me to be a good idea.

At 8:00pm, the designated hour for United to open their check-in desk, there was already half-a-plane-load of people waiting in line; 28 of them in the business class line. United’s ground staff took the first person in line at 8:13 as we natives grew more and more restless. By 8:45 we were checked in. Instructions to the business class security zone and business class lounge after that were muddled and murky but, after a couple of failed attempts and the joining of wrong lines, we made it through.

We have no pressure to rush, however. Our United flight, as I had learned at noon yesterday, is not on schedule under any definition of that word. This United email hit my inbox: “Your flight to Newark is delayed because we are resolving an unexpected operational issue. We value your time and we're sorry for the inconvenience. UA49 now departs from Mumbai at 1:30 a.m.”

So, our 11:10pm departure has been pushed back to 1:30am. Amazingly and without even the remote possibility of credibility, their communication says the flight will still arrive in Newark at 5:40am. That miracle won’t happen.

The “unexpected operation issue” has been both expected and fully known by UA for some time. UA 49 hasn’t operated normally since February 27 when Pakistan closed its air space. It has been diverted to Munich or Frankfurt or Bangor or been cancelled each and every day (18 days in all) since then. I think that counts as “expected” and I anticipate a friendly chat with the purveyors of the friendly skies on that linguistic point sometime soon.

But, ultimately, depart we do. We snooze a bit but not too much. It’s the middle of the day KC time and we wouldn’t normally be sound asleep were we there so we shouldn’t be sound asleep here. But we are fatigued so we sleep against our will.

Munich Time 6:00am Sunday
Kansas City Time Midnight Sunday
Elapsed Time: 29 Hours

We are wheels down in Munich. This night UA 49 flies to Munich landing two minutes after “earliest landing allowed time” at 6:02 am their time (1:02 Sunday morning KC Time) taking just under nine hours. We take exactly ninety minutes to refuel and change crew, allow a ground crew to clean and refresh to lavatories and then continue on to Newark. That flight leg takes another eight-hours-and-thirty-six minutes. We fly directly over my son Cianán’s new home in Brussels. Our estimated time of arrival in Newark now turns out to be 11:10am, five hours and ten minutes late. Of course, that means we just “barely missed” our connection to Kansas City which departed at 7:30am, three-and-a-half hours before we arrived.

Newark Time 2:40pm Sunday
Kansas City Time 1:40pm Sunday
Elapsed Time: 40:00

We are wheels up for Kansas City. The ticket United sold us proposed that we would arrive in KC at 11:44am (after making a connection in Chicago). Now, instead, we hop aboard a non-stop from Newark to Kansas City at 2:45pm, arriving in KC at 5:45pm. The trip we took is six hours longer than the one we bought.

It is St. Patrick’s Day. My ancestors are from Ireland’s County Clair; so, the luck of the Irish holds (known to B4 and me as “the Russell luck”) and we are snug at the Alameda Tower come nightfall.

Kansas City Time 6:00pm Sunday
Elapsed Time: 46:30

B4 and I agree that our decision to avoid United, made independently long before we became RussRaff, was the correct one. They haven’t made a good impression on us, then or now or ever. Airline loyalty is a funny thing. For every one of us, there is somebody else who loves United. We haven’t met them but I am certain they are out there somewhere.

Our travel day—the longest day—spanned the hours of nearly two complete days and included landfall in six cities (Jaipur, Jodhpur, Mumbai, Munich, Newark, Kansas City) only one of which was at a place where photography was forbidden.

For the first time in our life together, B4 said to me, “When we get home, I want to go get a steak.” I laughed because her statement was unprompted. As was the case when I was last in India, we’ve not seen beef in twelve days (even aboard our flights) and the phrase “sacred cow” has worn out its welcome. Rare for her, please; medium rare for me. Never before has it occurred to me that there could be a double meaning to the phrase, “rare beef.”

All in a day’s work for global travelers such as B4 and her plus one. Make that two days work.

Thinking about the entire affair, we're reminded of lyrics:

Well, ev'ry night you drag me where the bright lights are found;
There ain't no way to slow you down
I'm as 'bout as helpless as a leaf in a gale;
And it looks like I've got a tiger by the tail

We shall leave it to the reader to determine who is singing about whom.