And there aren’t any daiquiries, floral hawaiin shirts, or lowered broomstick handles in sight!
Just like an unbaptised non-catholic child I am trapped in Limbo. In Limbo the music is definitely elevator, no matter how hard you try you cannot sleep for longer than 5 minutes at a time, and you have no money to buy any comfort food or drink because Limbo is neither your departure or arrival destination, it’s is in ‘Limbo’ if you will.
Limbo goes by the name of Changi International Airport and to its credit has free internet to be used in 14.47 minute sessions (by the time you have reopened Internet Explorer after the previous session timed out) - which I must say is a vast improvement on every other other circle of Hell I have visited. So far the worst circle has been New Jersey airport, but that was probably my complete lack of sleep the night before souring the true NJ away experience. Then again, I am experiencing a sense of impending doom that I am approaching the inner sanctum of terminal hell. I thoroughly expect to be both conned out of my life savings and kidney’s before I leave Delhi International tomorrow. At best I will just manage to not get completely ripped off by a taxi driver who dumps me at some random hotel in a random suburb which I didn’t ask for.
Well my 15 minutes of fame are nearly up, the clock is ticking and I have run out of things to whinge about. Miss everyone in New Zealand already, miss everyone in London since 6 weeks ago. About to say hello to everyone in India – that might take awhile… but after which it will be all the more painful to say I miss all of them too.