My Trip to Japan (which never happened)

My hotel manager advised me to leave Varkala at 2 am to make it to Trivandrum airport in time for my 6 a.m. flight to New Delhi. Rather than trying to sleep a few hours, I decided to stay awake. This was the first and only night out I had in the whole time I’d been here. I came to the conclusion that I hadn’t missed anything.

 

 

Around 1 a.m., I walked back to my room, clean myself up, collected my bags, and walked to the back driveway. I was relieved to see my taxi driver waiting for me in the dark. Rajesh was the same dear man who delivered me to this beach town exactly one month earlier. I remembered how much he enjoyed his music on that drive. Even though we couldn’t understand each other’s language, we laughed and car-danced all the way to Varkala.

 

 

This early morning drive back to Kerala’s capital was a bit more somber as I tried to rest. We arrived at the airport within an hour, so my hotel manager was wrong. Rajesh gave me a goodbye hug and communicated that he’d be awaiting my return (So sweet!).

I entered the airport and slumped into a chair for a few hours. At 6 am, I boarded the plane north to Kochi and onward to New Delhi where I had a very long layover before my flight to Japan. We touched down at noon and I searched for a comfortable place to spend the day at the airport. As far as I knew, my flight to Japan was scheduled for the coming night (early morning) at 1 a.m.

At a cafe, I logged-in for my allotted 45 minutes of free wifi and saw a message from Itoe, my friend in Japan. It took me a moment to register what she was saying.

 

“Heather, are you okay? I waited for you at Tokyo Airport. They told me you weren’t on the plane.”

 “Whaaaaat?!”  I said out loud.

I frantically messaged her, as it started to sink in that my 1 a.m. flight to Japan was …last night.

“How did this happen???!”

 

I wasn’t sure if the mistake was due to my tech skills or brain’s annoying refusal to process anything related to numbers. Turns out the fault was due to a glitch in the iCalendar app (or my ignorance of its proper use when changing multiple time zones).

Itoe had prepared for my visit, driven a couple of hours from her home in Mobara to the airport in Tokyo, and probably cleared her schedule, all for nothing.

On my end, I was sitting in New Delhi Airport with a bunch of luggage, no more data on my SIM card, no more airport wifi, mentally ready to leave India, no sleep and no ticket out of the country.

A young man working at the cafe let me use his phone number to get another 45 minutes of wifi so I could call the Japanese airlines. They informed me that the same flight that evening was fully booked and they were unable to refund me for last night’s missed flight.

They offered me another route for $1600, but I couldn’t afford that on top of the money I’d already lost, so I got off the phone and began searching the internet for a miracle budget flight. I quickly ran out of wifi again and since my SIM was out of data I couldn’t use my phone either.

I went searching for my SIM provider to buy more data and then learned that my SIM card provider is the only major Indian provider with no sales booth at the Delhi airport! I tried to buy a whole new SIM card from another provider but was told I need to register a local contact phone number and address and I don’t have a local contact in New Delhi.

I was so tired, not just physically, but mentally. After 6 months in India, I’d grown weary of the constant complications, the red tape, the hustling, the pushing, and prodding. I was ready to leave and felt stuck.

The clock was ticking, so I wandered around and found an airport lounge so I paid to sit in their comfortable seats and use their wifi to continue searching for flights. I was beginning to worry about the night fast approaching. The last thing I wanted was to spend a night in Delhi by myself. I don’t feel safe taking a taxi alone in this city, but I couldn’t find a flight.

I wondered if I’d have better luck with one of the ticket counters upstairs, so I left the lounge and tried to get upstairs. The armed guards refused to let me through to the elevators without a ticket.

“Um…   If I had a ticket, I wouldn’t need to get upstairs to buy a ticket!”

I explained about my missed my flight and showed them my flight information, but they wouldn’t budge and they offered no advice or help to remedy my situation. That’s the way they roll in India: Complicated.

I was becoming desperate, so I took a risk and left the airport building completely in order to go upstairs to the ticket counters and try to re-enter. It’s risky because they don’t allow anyone into the building without a ticket.

Explaining my story at each door, I persistently tried to re-enter. All guards pointed me to the last door, which opened to a small sectioned off area with about 6 mini ticket counters, none of which were Japanese airlines. Everyone shook their heads to say ‘Nope. Can’t (or won’t) help you.’

Then one man seemed almost excited “You need to buy a ticket? I can help you.”  He said, as he left his booth and scurried across the aisle to another booth, where he opened a computer and began quoting me a bunch of very expensive ticket prices.

I was exhausted and exasperated with the constant hustling, but I was out of options and this fellow knew it. My only alternative would be to get a hotel in New Delhi and continue searching for flights.

He told me that he found a flight to Japan, continuing onward to San Francisco five days later for $1200.

“I’ll take it,”  I said.

He ran my credit card as I sent a text to Itoe saying “I’m on my way.”

I signed the credit card receipt and then …He said he wasn’t able to secure the flight after all!

“But I just paid for it!?”  I said.

“I know, but in the time I was attempting to book it, the flight expired and is no longer available.”  He replied.

POOF!  My visit to Japan just disappeared.

“So what shall we do now? I’ve just paid you for this ticket?”

He said he could get me on a 1 a.m. flight straight to San Francisco with a few hours layover in Hong Kong, for the price I’d already paid. This would mean skipping Japan altogether but I was plumb out of options.

Sigh…  “Fine,”  I said exasperated.  “Just get me out of here.” I thought to myself.

It was hard to let go of seeing my friend in Japan and I felt terribly guilty for what I’d put her through. Some things just don’t make sense. I was in a state of shock and so very disappointed.

 

 

Hong Kong airport was a breath of fresh air: Modern, orderly, sanitary, friendly, free wifi. No one was trying to hustle me. I could finally let down my guard. Even the airport food was decent.

 

 

 

After a couple of long and uneventful flights, my friend Jonathan re-arranged his day to pick me up at San Francisco International on a gorgeous sunny day and drive me south to my hometown of Santa Cruz. Thank you, my friend!

California had record-breaking rain this past winter, so everything was clean and green after years of serious drought.

 

 

 

 

 

I don’t have a place to live, a car, or even a bike, so I borrowed a bike and have mostly been staying at my sister and brother in-laws place.

This week, a friend lent me a car and another friend offered me a private cabin in Carmel-by-the-Sea, so I took a trip down there and hiked all my favorite spots in Carmel, Monterey, and Big Sur.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I needed this time to process India and re-group before heading to Alaska where I’ll be working aboard a 60 passenger ship teaching yoga, guiding tours and running the ship’s spa. I’ve never been to Alaska and am looking forward to experiencing its vast wilderness.

For now, here I sit in a cafe in Carmel shopping online for GorTex jackets, rubber boots, and neoprene gloves. I’m not sure if/when I’ll make it to Japan.