Mumbai Nights

I started my journey the night before in a New Zealand airport. One hour of sleep put me in a good mood for the following day. I fly to Sydney, Darwin, Mumbai then Delhi, over 24 hours of aeroplanic hell, only a bit less interesting.

Behind me a pair of red-faced Aussies drink Scotch and shout. All the latest Hollywood blockbusters play simultaenously on hundreds of tiny screens surrounding me. For the majority of the time I sit next to a friendly Indian woman who tells me about her family, her job, her life. I then discover she is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and she wants to convert me. I discovered I have been living in sin, and I am now a practicing Morman. I have something for you to read. It is very enlightening literature , it will change your life. Join my Church.

My malaria medication agrees with me less as time progresses. My head becomes a strange shape. I meet the Beatles and we record a short conceptual album on guidebooks and other related fiction.

They feed us every 2 hours with sky-high sludge to pacify us. Luckily, my pills helped me to purge myself regularly. The other passengers fall into a chemical mashed potato induced stupor, but I witness the terrible events unfold. The stewardesses transform into huge stinking blonde reptiles, and proceed to gorge on people's brains and rifle through their wallets. I defend myself for 10 hours with 6 sets of plastic cutlery.

I arrive in Mumbai safely, a little behind schedule. My connecting plane has already left. My mobile stops working and I have no money. My bags do not appear for another hour. I start to sweat.

My previous airline deny responsibility, my next airline has no flights until tomorrow. I don't fancy another night in an airport, especially this one. I manage to buy tickets on another plane with my trusty credit card, and am then told 'Sir, you wait. No seats on plane. Wait see if the seat becomes available please.' I manage to obtain a seat, I know not how, between 2 fat business men who snore. I drift in and out of consciousness. Eventually arriving in Delhi airport, I beg a few rupees to call my contact, Michael. Flies buzz around my head and taxi drivers eye me up as I sit in the midnight heat. Then Michael arrives. I am saved.