Things their mom did not remind them to tell you about the new bang-a-lure airport

Much curiosity (read confusion) beset me, as I was set to travel to and out of Bangalore on the last weekend of May. Having booked my flight tickets for a Deccan flight through Cleartrip, I had just made sure there was ample scope for confusion, as both agencies reported different dates of inauguration of the new airport, and it was only when I boarded the bus to go to the new airport that I believed one of them. In the meantime, there were loads of messages to me, each agency asking me to ignore all their previous messages, and the gist of all of them was that I would either depart from the new airport or the old airport. It was really profound.

The first thing that came to my mind when I thought about the new Bangalore airport was the comparison to its counterpart in Hyderabad. Having been to the Hyderabad airport, I started expecting similar comfortable and reasonable facilities to go to the airport, etc. How I wish I knew what was in store for me, though!

Bangalore international airport limited (IMHO, the last word has more to do with the comfort level the whole airport deal offers, than it has to do with the Companies Act), quite unlike its Hyderabad counterpart, is probably only a worse managed facility than the old HAL one.

For the unsuspecting souls, let me clarify - the new Bangalore international airport became functional on the 24th of May, after many postponements and much ado. And for all I knew, this was only the beginning.

It started with this - how far is the new airport from the city anyway? Ok, 40 odd km, but how much in advance should I start? How long will it take to reach there? Mails were rife that it would take about 120-150 minutes to reach there, from the area of Bangalore I was in (Domlur). Now, I had a flight to take at 1030, and that meant that I had to be at the airport latest by 930 and 2 odd hours of travel meant that I had to start at around 7.

Enter friends who have been staying in Bangalore for a while. According to them, the road to the new airport would pass through some of the busiest and the most traffic-congested areas of the city (tell me one which is not, for a change) and one could never tell how long the traffic could be held up. The stakes are too high to take a chance - an air ticket worth about Rs 4,000. So I decide to start at around 6AM. And no, this timing was not as per my will. It was the safest time to start at, when the BMTC bus would depart from Domlur too. Thus, to be at the bus stand in Domlur at 6AM, I start at my place at 530AM and naturally, since there would be no autos around that time, I call the city taxi who charges me a minimum of Rs 150 to go to the stand. The hole in my pocket has just only opened.

Still not sure whether I am at a right place and seeing the right scenario, I finally see a red BMTC bus that at least looks good from outside with huge windows and a low platform, emblazoned trippily with an airplane with a smiling face which ends up looking like a tilted dolphin with straight wings. Ok, so I am not at least lost, I think.

It is time to board the bus, and there, my first jolt - the luggage has to be carried inside the bus, and kept on the racks there. Interestingly, the separation between the horizontal bars in the vertical direction, confining the luggage, is more than the width of even a large suitcase. Thus, the suitcases etc of poor unsuspecting creatures keep falling as the driver enjoys the power steering of the bus, and traffic free roads of the lovely morning. Needless to mention, the number of seats that can be accommodated in the bus has been greatly reduced because almost half the space in the bus is reserved only for the raining-luggage racks.

There has been an e-mail from Kingfisher that the new airport can be reached by so and so modes which include expensive taxis (600 rupees types) and this BMTC bus which supposedly charges 135 rupees from Domlur to the airport. But to my surprise, the swanky in-situ printed ticket reads Rs. 150 in the system-y dot matrix font, and there, my second jolt.

All this time, I am too busy noticing the ill designed luggage racks and lamenting the more expensive than mentioned ticket, to see that the seats in the bus are no more comfortable than any of the normal city buses, and this essentially shatters my dreams of being able to catch a quick nap on my way to the airport, as I have hardly slept the previous night. I try to work around it, only to my despair.
I can obviously not lean on my co-passenger, because he is not my elder brother.
The rail of the next seat is too close to put my crossed arms on it and to rest my head on them.
The back of the seat is too short and the rails too hard to lean backwards and let my head rest on it.

So there I am, sitting stick-straight all throughout the journey to the airport, only strengthening a lesson I have come to learn - when you are partying and not sleeping well at nights, avoid planning journeys so that you have to go directly to the office from the airport.

As I sat straight like a good boy (that is what they taught us at primary school - good boys sat with their backs straight and hence everybody liked them), I imagined the hell of a time I was going to have at work, with lack of sleep and to my realisation later, a good breakfast.

It was 725 AM and I suddenly found myself hauling my bags out of the bus at the new airport! This was magic! I was full 3 hours early for my flight, unlike what I was told both by my friends and the official mail.

I thought I would take this opportunity to explore the airport premises.

The first good thing that struck me was that wherever one needs to cross a road in there, appropriate elevations are made which act as both speed breakers and the necessary platform to trundle your trolleys seamlessly. I read a white-on-green board which said 'Plaza Restaurant' and decided to check it out. The first board showed an arrow towards the exit and the parking and going that side only had the taxi-wallahs and the BMTC people asking me relentlessly if I needed a ride.
Upon turning according to the arrow on the second direction board I met, and crossing something that was about 150 metres of paved parking cum walking area, I found myself close to some aviation service building which was closed. So they have not started operating everything yet, I thought, turning back to enter the airport.

Quite contrary to my imagination of the efficiency of the airport, there was a HUGE queue to enter the airport, and this is not even the check in counter. Finally my turn came, and the security guy there yelled "All dwomeshteek pyasenjars pleej yooj dee aadar yentrance".
I wondered what the literacy rate amongst the passengers would be, for the airport people not to put even one slightest mention of separate entrances for domestic and international passengers. And interestingly enough, they both landed the passengers in the same foyer - Deccan check in counter staff literally rubbing shoulders with Singapore Airlines, because the check in counters are all crammed into this very foyer!

So there my turn came yet again and upon entering, I find this sneaky UDF counter tucked into a corner of the foyer saying "please pay your UDF here". News you can use - I remember having read about this UDF thing in the newspapers. More unsure of whether I do not have to pay that than I have to, I decide to stand in the queue. But then it strikes me - there is a gargantuan crowd waiting to check in, and this sneaky UDF queue was so small! How could that be? So I leave my place in this queue to approach an airport staff member to ask if everyone (domestic as well as international passengers) was supposed to pay this UDF. I am told that it is to be paid only by the international passengers for now. Again, no mention of that on the board either! What if I had ended up paying the fees? Would they have refunded it before 2030 AD?

Trudging to yet another queue (my third in the last 30 minutes) to check in, I bask in the feeling of having huge unsupported spans of tall ceiling above me, huge structural glass panels around and the entire grand scene of the squeaky new airport, which has started sinking in only now, after all the disappointment. But the passing time only tells me that it would only be a break in the disappointment ordeal.

The security check upstairs from the check in counters is fairly smooth, for there are no long long queues there, yet. With sequence 1 (naturally, no one had yet come to the airport for my flight) assigned to me, I set out to cater to my next crisis - food hunt. Naturally I have had nothing till now, that is 825 AM because I started before any restaurant or anyone, for that matter (except my mother, oh mother!) could give me a breakfast.

We all know that stuff is costly at the airport. What Bangalore (I am not calling it that stupid looru name. I hate it) teaches us anew is that even on spending that much amount, one is hardly guaranteed any good quality material. Before passing through the next meandering long queue at Barista counter, I have surveyed everything available to eat at the airport, and have zeroed in onto a sandwich and a tea at Barista, since that appears to be the cheapest option. So there it is, one sandwich (that is made of 2 slices and some veggies with white sauce) and one cup of tea, worth Rs. 170. Next problem: where do I sit? All the places are full of people! There are executives (or so looking people, nicely dressed in suede suits and sparkling shoes and having thin framed reading glasses) sitting and relishing an elaborate breakfast thereby professing their purchasing power, and then there are people who do not want to have anything but a tea and pass the remaining time until their boarding - which is quite a while, since a lot many people have ended up like me, misled by the estimates of the time taken to reach the airport.

So I finally settle down at a seat so close to the garbage bin that it is evidently empty till now. Trying everything possible to turn as far away from the bin as possible to have my breakfast, I log on to the free wifi there - at least something to help me kill time - since there are no comfy seats on which I can catch a nap, yet again.

I feel a little better after whining about the airport to my online friends then (just the way I am feeling now), and it is almost time they announced my boarding. It is 950 AM now. The LCD screen shows flights departing only till 1015, and till 1020 the display does not change. After playing the ball in dodgeball of the Deccan circle, I finally learn that my boarding is through one of the three gates that are displaying boarding information for the Coimbatore flight departing at 915 AM.

"Sir, sequence no.1 has already boarded. Shit (she actually said that)! How did this happen? Can I see your ID card please?" I am let go after my ID card is checked, and there ends the airport ordeal.

What follows is the airline ordeal, with Deccan taking its sweet time to finish some of their 'paperwork' and the flight finally taking off 35 minutes after the scheduled departure time.

Upon arrival, I find my check-in bag badly damaged. This has inductively led me to conclude that the latest high-tech in-line baggage checking system at the bangalore airport works like this:

So fellow people, lovers and country men, please try to avoid flying to/from Bangalore as much as possible. As for me, the weekend I spent there was worth much more than this trouble, so no (more) complaints.