Second flight is equally uneventful. I opt out of the 4 course meal of reheated butter sludge, much to the shock and amazement of all around. Its apparently taboo to turn down a free meal, however gross, on a German airline servicing south India in the middle of the night.
Arrived about 1:45 am this morning. Nice airport, efficient customs. After baggage claim, you walk out to a teeming mass of people with signs across a fence. Hundreds. So, you start at one end and walk down, scanning for you name while they all wag the signs in front of you.
The night air is cool. It smells of spice.
I find my sign and the sign holder (I couldn't ever pry a name out of him) springs into action, hustling down to a break in the fence and pushing through the crowd. There I am meeted by his partner, who gives me a flower and says "please follow". So I do. I ask him his name and he replies "Smith". Very cloak and dagger. Which is just exactly what the doctor ordered for 2 in the morning in India when getting into a van with two strangers, right?
The driver doesn't drive exceedingly fast, but he's all over the road. Lanes mean nothing to the unnamed assistant of Smith. The cabs around us (its 2:30 am now, so all the cars on the road are big service looking trucks without head or taillamps and cabs) all honk when the approach. Unnamed driver never uses his horn, but he's a madman with his high beams. He flashes them at everything that moves, and some things that don't.
The van is attacked by my first pack of wild feral Bangaluru dogs. They are small, and not as thin as you'd think, and vicious looking. They chase the van for a couple hundred feet and then relent.
Large, pretty well maintained, open roads are interspersed with two things; stop signs and speed bumps. The former are completely and totally ignored by unnamed driver. The latter are treated with a tremendous respect. These speed bumps are unmarked, and huge. The van literally points up as it goes over the front of one. I can't imagine hitting one at speed, it must feel like hitting a brick wall. They seem randomly places, not at intersections or any other seemingly logical interval. That's where the poor ignored stop signs spend their meaningless existence.
I arrive at the Taj hotel. Lots of security, like airport level to get in the front door.
On the drive over I realize I didn't get any rupees at the airport, and had to humbly apologize to Smith. He and his silent unnamed friend will be driving me for the week though so I'll get him later. I had hoped that the hotel had an ATM. As the bellman took my bags, I asked the night manager if that was the case. He explained that no, sorry, no ATM in the hotel, but there were many in the tech mall down the street. 3 am, I'm sick as a dog, tired as hell, but I decide I'm not going to be that American that doesn't tip. So I ask for directions. He ends up walking me all the way to the ATM and back, telling me facts about the hotel, like the Singaporean architect and things like that.
I get out 5,000 INR. Last time I checked it was about 1USD to 50INR, so I think this was about 100 bucks. On the walk back, I realize I have no idea what a good tip is for these guys. I decide that until I find out, I'll tip them as I would in the US, although I think (hope) that will end up being considerably more extravagant than necessary. I palm the manager guy a 1000 rupee bill and thank him, and his wide grin makes me suspect that I have guessed correctly this is a more than adequate tip. I hand a few hundrew rupees to the bellman and head up to the room. They have the heater on full blast in the elevators and halls, they must be at least 85 degrees F.
The room is very small, but nice, and modern. Thats a Chuck Norris movie on in the background in case you are wondering.I take a wild guess on the thermostat as its in Celsius, unpack a bit, and crash.
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