Each time a flight lands, my mind wanders off to a Lego Set, as I peep out of the window like an excited child; It wanders off to tilt shift photography too, and the semblance of their make believe beautiful creations and romance with colour. The view from this flight was however a hue of beige and white, of carefully placed drab pieces on a chalky white board. On nearing landing, wide expanses of dry arid earth harshly devoid of vegetation contrasted with properly juxtaposed buildings. The contrast of life - people, vehicles, and construction - against this infertile land and lack of colour put me at a slight unease. The discomfort slowly disappeared as we were ushered in and I marveled at human skills that could make recalcitrant nature comply, make inhospitable conditions hospitable. Later I learnt that despite such aridity, they also managed to have one of the highest per capita GDP in the world.
While my boarding pass was being checked, Arabian Oryx peeped at me in its maroon-on-white logo form and I felt grateful to this airline and this country, both by the name, Qatar. This sovereign Arab state in Western Asia was my savior!
The previous night, when I had left for the airport, I was excited, I was to, as they truly say, embark on an adventure of a lifetime. A short airline attendant halted my tall speeding dreams to a screeching halt when he told a bubbling me that I couldn’t board my flight. The snobbish town of my transit needed that I have a transit visa for disembarking at its airport and changing flights. Unaware that my ethnicity had been overlooked when booking tickets, I had showed up innocently without a landing right to passage.
Despite pleading, showing proof of the entire arranged itinerary and minor theatrics at trying to convince my ticket-checking friend that this glitch was impossible and to maybe accommodate me on this flight or another one, he remained smilingly unnerved. Without any moolah to buy a last minute new ticket like they do in movies, I felt utterly helpless. Feeling as if I would wake up from some bad dream soon, I wasn’t sure if I was to pick my bags and go back home, or push harder and just reach. The trip was already planned, onward tickets booked and taking a flight the next day on different route was just not an option.
Four hours of harrowed excitement where my phone kept ringing like a stockbroker’s when Sensex is crashing, Alicia from World Nomads managed to secure me another flight via this more welcoming Arab country with its symbiotic cashing-in on its location advantage.
No traveler leaves home with the roads perfectly planned. And just when I was really close to waking up thinking it was all a dream, the great adventure began with its ready curve of turns and a detour through Doha.
