A Rude Awakening

My first flight was cancelled. My second flight was delayed. At one point, when I was connecting in Mumbai, I began to lose hope that I would make it to Delhi. I started mentally preparing for a drastic change of itinerary. All of the places I had done research on would be skipped and I would blindly explore the southern tip of the country. It was late, I had not eaten, my resilience began to fade. Luckily, the plane showed up and I was able to get to Delhi. However, my original 5:00pm arrival, which would give me ample time to settle in before a flawless night of rest, was pushed back just a touch. A minor inconvenience, no big deal. But when I landed, it was 3:00am. I couldn’t buy a SIM card. My phone was useless. I was stuck. I imagine this is what it felt like to travel in the 80’s — prehistoric times. I had already booked a hotel, and I was too stubborn to give up on that reservation and stay at a comfortable place near the airport. So, I got a taxi and told him the only information I knew: Paharganj Main Bazaar. He nodded some vague combination of yes and no, so I said it again. Paharganj Main Bazaar. Another ambiguous nod. I’ll take it. I got in the taxi, and we left the airport. I had absolutely no idea how I’d find my hotel, but I figured it couldn’t be too hard, I’ll just look around. I justified all of this by telling myself “It’s like the 80’s, unplugged and in the moment. Hell yeah, brother.” <a href="https://medium.com/@claytonturnerwriting/a-rude-awakening-cb7699757af6">Click Here</a>