The Fateful First Landing
My first journey to India started in 1992, arriving to Calcutta by plane from Bangkok. I had been warned that Calcutta was one of the dirtiest and hardest cities to visit, but I liked catching bulls by the horns and landed on the evening of a hot November day.
In the airport, the line of foreigners in front of the passport control table just didn’t seem to move. I was tired, and I knew that my small dog Afrika needed to pee. I waited, and waited, then edged my way in.
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