Lost in Transition....

Day 1 - 20th September

It has been 30 days since I have come to Europe and it has been an exhilarating adventure so far and I use adventure specifically because that is what I love most. They say, Europe is famous for its architecture and museums and I do enjoy them a bit, but a trip without adventure for me is like the Indian batting without Sachin Tendulkar. So, I have ensured that I get my doze of adventure in each place along with the bombardment of the European art and culture.

Not all adventure was planned though; when I arrived at Barca, my luggage did not accompany me somehow. It got “Lost in TRANSITion” and here I was without my check in luggage in a new city. The airlines office was shut too and there was absolutely NO one from the airlines @ the airport to help us except a Lost and Found Baggage Counter, where there was a lot of rush. (company in misery wasn’t welcome for a change) On top of that, my over smartness led me to lose my baggage tags, my only savior and proof in such times.

There are two parts of a boarding pass, a long and a short one. My tags were pasted in the short part, which obviously is the part taken in India by the airport authorities. I, being an MBA from XLRI, used my smartness to paste them on the bigger part of the pass so that they do not taken by the airport authorities. However, as it happens in Europe, they take away the bigger part of the boarding pass (Why can’t they have a standard procedure globally? and I thus lost my claim to my luggage and literally no one to help. Cometh the first of many ‘angels’ on this trip, an Indian living in Spain who made some calls and gave us his phone to use and some other useful tips. We (there was a classmate along with me in all this) then headed to our hostel for the night, hoping that the luggage would arrive soon, the only identification proof I had given them was the colour and the type of the luggage, something which would help them EASILY find my luggage among the thousands of luggage they were handling.

Something similar to what I experienced :)

The fun did not end there as thanks to some incorrect directions by the policemen of all people, a 15 minute walk became a 1 hour struggle where we also passed the ‘La Ramblas’, the most lively street of the city. I have so much to write about the La Ramblas, but I would leave that for some other time.

The street where my hostel was as it turns out is one of the most notorious in Barcelona. Famous for pick pockets, thefts, call girls, drugs and everything you can imagine. However, there were many Indian and Pakistani shops here and on visiting them, everyone gave us just one suggestion, “DO not carry more than 20 euros in your wallet, it will reduce the depression you will go through once your wallet is pocketed, something which is bound to happen. Even after those encouraging words from our people there, I somehow felt that I am vigilant enough to ensure that I do not get pickpocketed; something I have avoided in Mumbai too in spite of travelling by locals regularly since I was 8 years old.

So, with that first day in this new city, I slept that night with a conversation with God, my style of a prayer since the past few years. I told him that I knew I had asked for some adventure and thanked him for not disappointing me. Honestly, I had started to enjoy all this by then, as I knew that going by the start I have had, this trip was going to be ONE HELLUVA RIDE :) With this thought, I collapsed in my bed as passed into deep slumber hoping to find my luggage, but not wanting the adventure to stop.