Quite contrary to my usual interest in travel and my heartfelt announcements about how I would do anything to go see new places, one of the things I dislike the most is travelling for work. While it works in my favor (or so you would think) that I have always travelled on business outside of the country only, it is actually quite a bit of a pain. One, because I am a clingy old woman, who somehow refuses to let go of the routine life that she otherwise complains about. Also, traveling for work means being away from The Dude, and Zo, and nothing sucks as much as that. Again, with a disclaimer that I usually crave for ‘me time’, turns out that at the end of all that ‘me time’, I need to see those two faces before I fall asleep because Oh My God how old and clingy am I?
The other thing that I hate more than travelling for work is traveling for work to the same God forsaken place over and over again. I am not even saying that it’s the place per se, it’s the fact that I have been there before that kills it for me. Yes, the place might be a decider to some extent. For example, I’m thinking, I’m only thinking not claiming, that may be going to London more than one time might not hurt as much, because London, well, I have a special affinity to that place. It was the first place outside of India I visited, and that too for work. It was a long month, but there were friends, and then there were colleagues who became friends and it didn’t hurt as much, though I was dying to get back for my wedding in 2 months time, and by the way, The Dude was visiting the US at the same time. So I managed somehow, and returned a pretty happy and much fatter person who wouldn’t fit into her wedding lehenga because of all the cheese that was consumed.
The place I visited most for work was Switzerland. Not the dreamy, snowy, DDLJ-eqsue Switzerland they show you in the movies, but an industrial town on the banks of Rhine which did not have the slightest glimpse of the Alps or snow or anything remotely Switzerland. In fact it had summers which hit 35 degrees (yes, Celsius) and tiny table fans that folks kept at their work desks because the air conditioning wasn’t as effective. This place, I went to over and over again. And since we travelled on actuals, there wasn’t much tourism that I ever indulged in because somehow, I always travelled alone. And when I do, there isn’t much I want to see except for my work floor and the hotel room. Also, the Swiss believe in shutting down all signs of life on the streets as soon as the weekend arrived and from India where you do not have a spot with no people to Basel where you would not spot people, it was always a depressing transition.
Fortunately, there was a nice trip to Spain, which The Dude joined for an extended vacation because who would miss out on Barcelona yes? And then there was New Jersey, where I had a weekend to spare and Manhattan a bus ride away. Also, there was some company for some part of it, and that made life more bearable.
And now there’s this trip. Dubai was never on my must visit places, but we’re here, and I usually don’t complain as much for short 4 day trips. I mean, I do complain, just not as much. So despite much more advanced technology which lets me see my guy and my girl as if they were right there in front of me (including the Dude talking to me distractedly while watching TV because some things don’t really change right), I still dislike being away. This time, I have company, so there’s some basic walking around, and hopefully a visit to the Burj Khalifa (today, fingers crossed). And there’s also a highly anticipated evening to be a spent with a very good friend just before I leave, which makes all of this much easier to accept and survive.
But then, being away is being away, and change is change. And I am not too fond of both, however short. So I have decided to be agreeable and tag this visit as acceptable. Not nice, just acceptable. And I’ll keep my fingers crossed hoping that fate doesn’t decide to take that as a positive sign, and think it can do it to me more often.