We checked out of the guesthouse and flagged down a tuk-tuk to take us to the airport. The journey by tuk-tuk through the bustling streets of New Delhi is nothing short of an adventure. It’s like being on a roller coaster, but on the road. The driver zigzags skillfully between cars, bikes, and sometimes even cows, making your heart race.
We passed the colorful chaos of markets, with vendors selling everything from spicy street food to handmade crafts. The honks and beeps of the city create a soundtrack that’s uniquely Delhi. The wind rushed against our faces as we darted through shortcuts and narrow lanes. As we edged closer to the Indira Gandhi International Airport, the scenery began to change. The tight, crowded streets morphed into the more spacious and organized layout of the airport’s vicinity.
Indira Gandhi International Airport
We arrived just at the recommended two hours before the flight. With a mix of excitement and a tiny bit of nervousness, we found our check-in counter. The line was not very long and we soon had our boarding passes in hand. We then made our way through the security to departures. The airport was full of people from all corners of the world. It was a mix of bustling excitement and the exhaustion of waiting for their next flight that could be hours away.
It didn’t seem long before we could board our flight. Soon, we’re soaring into the sky, leaving the vibrant city of New Delhi behind. Hours passed watching the clouds, and eventually, the captain announced our descent into Moscow. Peeking out the window, we could see the land below, a place where the night was drawing in. Moscow, with its rich history and frosty climate, promised to be a stark contrast to the warm, bustling streets of New Delhi we just left. It’s not just about moving from one point to another. It’s a journey between two very different worlds, each with its unique challenges.
Welcome to Moscow
All excited to see Moscow, we asked about leaving the airport in hopes of seeing a bit of the city before our next flight. The answer was an emphatic, “No!”. We now found ourselves unable to leave the confines of a Moscow airport during a long eight-hour layover. This was far from the adventure we had hoped for. The cold inside seemed to mirror the icy expanse outside the windows. We were wrapped in an unwelcome chill that our layers of clothing could barely fend off. With no option to explore the vibrant city life awaiting beyond the airport boundaries, we had to get creative with how we spent our time.
The area with plastic seating was closed, the airport cafes and the gift shops were also closed. The constant buzz of announcements only added to the sense of isolation. Conversations with the few fellow travelers became a way to pass the time, sharing tales of trips gone awry in a makeshift camaraderie born of mutual discomfort.
Nightmare
We met one man from Cameroon, Africa, that had been stuck in this Hellish nightmare for several weeks. He had hoped to fly to America but was not allowed to board the transfer flight, as he had no US visa. His next flight back to Cameroon, was still several additional weeks away. The airport was as cold in ambiance as it was in temperature. Security directed that if we sat on the floor, we were to sit on the cold tile, and not the thin carpeting. We were lucky our Cameroonian friend loaned us a piece of cardboard he had managed to get from one of the cleaning ladies.
He told us he was really a prince and that the visa problem was all just a mistake. Claiming to have lots of money tied up in Cameroon, he was now stuck in the Moscow with no possibility to withdraw any of it. He asked that when we arrived in America, perhaps we could contact someone for him. With this request he then scribbled a name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
A Hot Meal Included!
A hot meal was to be included in our layover and we were excited when it was announced that it was time to be fed. We were shown to a table and took our seats. Before long, a woman who appeared to be the perfect cartoon representation of a stocky, brutish Bolshevik matron approached us with two bowls.
She violently tossed them onto the table where they clattered, spilling a bit of the ’soup.’ I say, ‘soup’ but in reality, it was a tasteless bowl of warm water with an onion sprig. “EAT!” She barked out the command as she turned and hobbled away. Donna and I looked at each other, and in unison said, “Welcome to Moscow!”
Chilly
We wandered around the empty airport, repeatedly window shopping outside the closed duty-free shops, due to a lack of any other activities. The walking helped us stay warm in the bone-chilling cold which made time drag on endlessly. Trapped in a time warp, we counted down the minutes until we could escape the freezing experience of a long layover in Moscow. It was announced that our plane would be later than expected. We felt as if we might have entered the Twilight Zone, where we were all trapped in a timeless, icy purgatory.
After hours of feeling exhausted, frozen, and anxiously waiting, the moment we had eagerly anticipated finally arrived. Our flight to America, and warmth, was finally here. It was a mix of relief and excitement. We had spent what felt like an eternity in the airport, watching the clock tick slowly. As we stood in line to board our flight, gratitude filled our hearts. Thoughts of the poor Cameroon ‘prince’ stuck in the Moscow airport lingered in our minds. Boarding this plane was not just boarding a flight; it was our ticket away from this frigid place.
Returning
Having spent nearly a year away, we were finally boarding the plane to return ‘home’. This journey would reunite us with our family and witness Donna’s entrance into grandparenthood. Donna was radiating with joy, and who could blame her? The significance of becoming a grandparent, coupled with our extended absence, made this reunion even more special. While away, we missed out on a lot, but we were eager to make up for lost time. The prospect of holding our newest family member made the long flight ahead seem insignificant. Our anticipation to reunite with loved ones, soaking in every moment, was palpable. This trip symbolized the end of one chapter and the start of a new one. The joy of family reunion served as a poignant reminder of life’s true priorities.
We stepped onto the plane and found our seats, gently buckling ourselves in. The plane’s engines hummed as we prepared to leave the chill of Moscow behind. Outside, the airport buzzed quietly beneath the blanket of crisp, cold air, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth inside our airplane. The captain’s voice crackled through the speakers, offering a cheerful greeting and the promise of a smooth flight ahead. The flight attendants went through the safety routine while we checked out the inflight magazines. The engines began to roar as the thrusters pushed the plane faster down the runway until we gracefully lifted off the ground. Moscow’s snowy rooftops and frosty streets slowly disappeared from view and was replaced by the vast, clear skies that would lead us home.
Next: A New Beginning
What a miserable, chilly time you had in that airport, and the “waitress” with her order to “eat” topped it off. Was there no heating at all on that airport? Do to think the African man was really a Prince? Did you ever follow up with that phone number?