To a tiny degree, the city’s nightmare traffic has eased up. It always does circa May, when Mumbaiwallas head for cooler climes to domestic and international destinations. And according to the ever-flourishing travel agencies from Mumbai, the favourite getaways happen to be Mahableshwar and Shimla domestically, while globally, the rush is for Switzerland — thanks to cool airfare discounts — and London where it’s a must to shop at Oxford Street till you drop. Kochi and Mussoorie are the other favourites.
And although last year, droves were taking off to the Arctic igloos in the North Pole, this year the top travel itineraries are for Prague-Salzburg-Vienna. Ergo, whoever claimed that the city-dwellers are suffering under the burden of galloping inflation, might be in for a wake-up call on witnessing the crammed lounges at the international airport.
Quite smartly, every travel agency reminds the potential traveller that tickets to Bangkok, Singapore and Dubai are dirt-cheap. Are they? Well, sure if your agent likes your face and can punch his computer to locate bargain airflight rates and hotel reservations. I must have a very off-putting face since I still have to land a ticket, which can be remotely described as a “deal”.
The only time I struck gold (if I can call it that) was an unsolicited upgrade to business class on a Kingfisher Delhi-Mumbai flight. It must have been my better air day. Honestly, I can never quite figure out how airline protocol works. Take for instance, an upgrade coupon I was given to trade in at the check-in-counter for the somewhat stressful, longish-haul Mumbai-Kolkata flight.
The Smiley Lady smiled had some more to declare, “Sir, these are never effective…the flights are always packed with full-fare guests.” Silver lining: at least, she called me “sir”.
Anyway, I’ve become one of those travel-cautious sorts, who hasn’t fled Mumbai’s rising mercury yet. The traffic’s become thinner, and add to that the strike by shops to protest against the LBT tax, the roads were smooth as a baby’s bottom on Thursday. I actually sauntered around Breach Candy without being jostled, pummeled, and even crossed the traffic junction without negotiating my way through a maze of bumper-to-bumper taxis and cars. Moral of the story: there are some days in this city, which reassures you that there’s no place like home. Switzerland? No thank you.