After traveling for thirty-four hours, I find myself in a hotel shuttle leaving the airport. As the van makes its way out of the gates there are hundreds of people surrounding it, many of them trying to persuade the military guards to let them inside the restricted area. Chaotic would be the little sister of this situation.
The driver makes his way through the crowd and I realize that for the first time in decades I feel intimidated by a new city. I can tell that, if I'm not careful, this place will eat me alive, erase my existence, leaving no trace. And I love it!
The van races down a highway just to come to a complete stop a minute later. I mean complete stop. The driver turns the engine off, and we wait.
After five minutes, traffic decide to move and we fly down the street until the next dead stop. And again. And again. We cross the same body of water twice, probably thrice, turn right, right again, and another right...
This goes on for seventy minutes. The distance from the airport to the hotel is about six miles.
The hotel is not super clean, but fine. The room has a safe, BBC on the TV, white sheets and - as the porter proudly points out - hot water. Luckily, I brought my flip-flops from home so I don't have to step on the carpet.
A bottle of mineral water is ceremoniously brought to my room, but it's not sealed and has clearly been filled from the tap. Yes, *please* make me sick on the first day!
Dinner is an adequate Butter Chicken and roti in the hotel restaurant, and I can hardly keep my eyes open.
I set the alarm to right before sunrise. Tomorrow is looking hectic.
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