The exodus from Mumbai was very much like the arrival. A driver took me to the airport, and people immediately started to collect all my belongings from me. The porter walked me straight to the entrance where a uniformed guard insinuated that he wanted to see my tickets. I was a little confused in that I could see the check-in counter behind his post. How does one produce tickets prior to checking in?
Over my shoulder, I saw an operation that appeared to be associated with the airlines I was to board, so I moved over there for assistance. Upon identification, they immediately knew what I needed, and produced an itenerary. This was all I needed to proceed into the airport, and funny thing, I had one of those in my carry on. It seems that in India only travelers are allowed inside the airport!
Now, imagine sitting in a foreign airport and waiting for your flight to be announced. Did you think it was going to be announced in ENGLISH?
I intentionally arrived prematurely for my flight, and spent my time recognizing how flights were being announced. A row of 8 kiosks had hard board plaques with the destination of the flight, and would be displayed and taken down as boarding was underway. About the time I figured this part out, I was approached by another traveler from South Africa. With an English speaking companion, it was easy to convey to her what I had discerned from my observations, and dismiss her concerns of missing her flight. (believe me, there were no electronic boards indicating flight status here)
The airport in Vadodara was small and quaint, but took on a different nature. Uniformed people were replaced with armed guards. Rifles slung, the imposed their glances on most of the crowd, but on travelers from abroad with a special interest. Although I was never approached, I just wanted to scream under their scrutiny.
Again my sign was outside and I connected with my cab.
