Bombay the easy way: Amby Valley.

Finally, a computer. A slow one, but it works. I'm stealing away a few minutes before a meeting, but I thought I'd update while I can.

I've only been here a little while, but there is so much to share. Instead of cramming it in, I'll start at the beginning and we'll see where we get.

Let's start with the flight. There's no better way to be introduced to a new country, culture and people than being forced to sit with them for 22 hours. The food on the plane was surprisingly tasty, considering that it was, well, airplane food. Dehli Belly be damned, the smell of the food was a welcome distraction from such classic films as Queen Latifah's Taxi, countless Bollywood melodramas, and a Lorenzo Lamas film with a chimp.

The service was swift and demanding. One woman briskly opened my tray without my permission, and a steward in a turban made me feel quite uncomfortable by reaching his hand between my thigh and the seat to demonstrate my overhead light.

Our only stop was in Frankfurt, Germany, an airport I have visited twice for the same brief time. And from what I experienced there, I'm of a mind that Deutchland is not for me. In line for my coffee a man in a Cosby sweater pushed right in front of me and started ordering cheese baguettes and fries. (This leads me to think he might have been French, so cross those guys off my list as well.) In a gallant effort that I could only muster after a large bout of sleep deprivation, I said, "Hey dude, what's the deal?" And he turned and said, "Oh, were you here first? Because you should have been standing here." He pats the counter. To which I reply, "whatever" and push my way to the counter to order my oh-so-manly espresso and chocolate croissant. To make matters worse, that a-hole got his food first and the guys behind the counter "forgot" my order and demanded a reciept. When my coffee finally came, it arrived in a nice mug with German lettering and fancy designs. That mug now sits next to my sink here in India and holds my toothbrush.