Qatar airport did not turn out to be the place I had imagined. From a rich country as Qatar, you would expect an airport of the same class as lets say Dubai. Especially considering the fact that they are competing in every field including having the best airline. I now can say that Qatar is matching Emirates in service, even though emirates still has better planes on their fleet.
Its a good thing I did not have to wait long at the Qatar airport. It was for some reason filled with Indians and those Indians who, after finding out that you are from Pakistan not India are not that generous any more. Two such bloody chaps I found standing in front of the counter for my connecting flight. After looking at my passport they asked me for a copy of the information page. It just so happened that I had one at that moment. I had absolutely no time for my connecting flight, the next one was scheduled 40 mins after the arrival. When I cleared arrival and checking I had only fifteen minutes to board next one and the information board was saying "Last Call" for my flight. I asked them what they needed the copy for since I was not asked for one when I boarded from Karachi. They gave me a smart ass reply, "We'll do a lot with it, you don't worry!". The time and place was not right and I had to board the next one quickly. It was entirely possible that they were right to ask me for the copy since only now I was leaving for UK, not on my last leg. It was a perfectly good chance to mess with them but they had the upper hand right now. May be next time.
Arriving at the Heathrow airport few interesting things did happen and I sometimes wonder, how much more would we have to pay for beings Pakistanis. It wasn't enough torture that I had to wait so long for the visa to arrive that I had to explain myself again and again to people. Standing at the immigration counter I was asked by the immigration officer why my visa had been rejected, I explained her the reason. She asked me to sit while she confirms my story. She comes back and starts working on my visa while asking all the usual questions like what is the purpose of your visit, who are you visiting and how long would you be staying. She went on further, what do you do in Pakistan, which company do you work for, what do you mean you are a Software Consultant? Huh? I think it's not related but coincidently she was also and Indian. May be we mistrust each other subconsciously.
Being a little cautious I slowly moved out of the airport. Then a bunch of ladies were looking after customs, I moved cautiously as before, reading that one of them asked me to open up the bag. The questions continued while she checked the bag. Done, we move ahead. The person who may have come to pick me up was not coming and I had to get to the destination, which happened to be a different city, on my own. I called him and he gave me train directions and the address of the place where I had to stay. For a while I roamed around little confused trying to find the train station, yes the trains run directly from the airport, but when I could not I checked with information. Express trains run non-stop from the Heathrow airport directly to the London Paddington station. A £15.50 trip. The Paddington station gave me absolutely the same feeling as the Lahore train station. Only the people moving around here were different. Look at it and you'll see what I mean.
Its a good thing I suppose that I had to travel through the train because it is the main form of transportation here and a powerful tool when it comes to planning travel. From Paddington it was still a two and a half hour journey. Everyone on the train was reading something except the woman who boarded with her husband and baby. She spent most of the time talking to her baby until she changed places with her husband, who was again reading a book. Like a new person on the train, I spent the first half hour just watching people and looking out the window. Then I, like others, took out a book and tried reading. An old British woman sitting beside me took interest in the Urdu book that I was reading and looking at the written script called it beautiful. She was either observing or just knew about the script, as she asked me if I was reading it from right to left and top to bottom. According to her right to left is the more natural way of reading and writing as opposed to English.
Worcester has two train stations, Shrub hill and Forgate. Even though I was directed to get off at later one which lies at the city center, I left the train at the former which came first. I had heard that most of the taxi drivers here are Pakistanis, the very Pakistanis who inhabit other areas of UK, those who come from north of Punjab and near Kashmir. When I exited the station, coincidently the taxi driver I got was a "brother", as they refer to you when you meet them. My destination was a B&B nearby. It was 6.30pm already and my body was on a clock five hours ahead. I went to sleep not long after I settled in. By the way, its litter here not trash.
Subscribe