A Little Visa Trouble In Big India

I didn't know I needed a visa!

I'm only going to be in India for 22 hours!

There was no direct flight to Kathmandu! 

I thought an online visa would be instant!

I should have known there was no direct flight from Sri Lanka to Kathmandu before I arrived here, but I wanted to start my world journey with a relaxed attitude to travel planning - be flexible I thought. I could be in Sri Lanka a fortnight or a month, so I would check out flights to Nepal as and when I decided to move on.

 

When I did get around to investigating, I discovered that I had limited options. I could travel back to the Middle East and then on to Nepal, go East towards Malaysia or Thailand or North through India. I chose India but wanted a connecting flight that would only leave me in India for a few hours (no offence India, but I am not yet ready for your sheer volume of people.) 

What I have ended up with is a 22 hour wait between flights. No problem I thought, I'll get a Transit Visa, book into an airport hotel and if I feel brave enough I'll take a trip to the Red Fort!

Unfortunately, I couldn't get my online transit visa in time. Even though it is online - it still takes days to process. I decided I would have to risk travelling without a visa.

Well at at Colombo Airport they said "you cannot go to India without a visa. We cannot let you fly." I politely stood my ground. I had read numerous internet articles the night before which contradicted this information, though I did know I'd be held in transit at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi. I asked to speak to a more senior member of staff who could evidence such a ruling. When he arrived he looked at my flight to Delhi and my onward flight to Kathmandu less than 24 hours later and said, "he is right, he can fly."

And so an epic journey continues. I left my accommodation in Mount Lavinia, south of Colombo this morning at 9.30 and I will touch down in Kathmandu tomorrow afternoon around 5.30pm (some  32 hours later.) I shall not be staying in my Delhi Hotel, nor touring the Red Fort. Instead I shall be dozing on armchairs, supping tea and washing in the gent's toilets dotted around Terminal 3's holding area.

My bigger concern was my luggage. I had read that I must try to get my bags checked through to Kathmandu on initial check-in in Sri Lanka, but that when two different airlines are involved - this can be a problem. Sri Lankan Airline refused to check them through and said they were my concern in Delhi. Now you may thinking, so what's the problem - it's not like I don't have plenty of time? Well, without a visa, I would be unable to go through passport control to reach the baggage carrousel where my bag would be spinning endlessly...all by itself. 

I decided to risk immigration. I completed an entrance card for foreign nationals and made my way to the desk. In no uncertain terms I was told to "bugger off and get myself back into the transit area and not to come back down here again." Dejectedly, I made my way back up the stairs to the transit area where a large, hairy and armed soldier told me in no uncertain terms to "bugger off, I could not return to the transit area and to go back down to the desks below." I told him this was not possible according to the passport officials downstairs. He squared up to me and put big hands on his hips, alarmingly close to his gun. I quickly went down the stairs, but rather than head back to immigration I turned left and then right and found myself in a deserted inspection area. Through the glass walls I could see some airport officials about to enter digits into a secure keypad to open doors into where I was standing. Beyond them I could see an elevator up to the transit area (away from the very hairy guard with the gun.) Looking confident and assured, I timed my walk to perfection, arriving at the glass doors as they opened, nodding nonchalantly at the officials and heading straight for the lift. I pressed the button and before anyone could challenge me I was on my way up.

When I reached the transit holding area I went to the nearest desk and said I needed someone to collect my luggage for me asap. Suffice it to say that it took two hours of nagging, reminding, questioning and bullishness, before someone finally went to secure my bag and pass it into the hands of my onward airline. With a new boarding card, luggage documents and assurances that all was well with my rucksack, I was then let through into Terminal 3 transit. 

What a remarkable contrast to the stark holding area. Before me was an Aladdin's cave of stalls, shops, restaurants, bars, a hotel, sleep pods and more. Bloody expensive though! $20 Dollars for some crisps, chewing gum, water and chocolate! $3 for a cup of tea, $15 for a light snack. Of course, I do not have any Indian rupees. I have Sri Lankan rupees and even some Nepalese rupees but when I tried to purchase some Indian currency in Sri Lanka, they were only able to sell me dollars. The hotel is $160, and as I have already paid £50.00 for a hotel room five minutes away that I cannot use, I have decided to keep my money and doss down anywhere I can. 

Now I did find a place. A closed bar area upstairs, tucked away from the masses with lots of comfy chairs. A little ingenuity and I had soon fashioned myself a bed. When I lay down I was virtually unobservable. I put on my shorts, took off my shoes (and socks you'll all be pleased to note) put on my headphones and dozed. Sadly, an officious busy-body came 2 hours later and told me the area was not in use and that I should move. What a git.

I'm now sat in an armchair. It is 2.00am and the tea tastes awful - English Breakfast my arse! How come it tastes of cinnamon or some other fowl concoction? Still, it gives me time to blog, I've finished a second e-book (Divergent by Veronica Roth, if you're interested) and I now plan to snooze. 13 hours from now I'll be boarding my plane to Nepal.

Goodnight!

Paul

x