Sunday January 27th - Arriving 2.20 insha'Allah

Today is move on day so the alarm is set for 06.30. We quickly finish packing and head for breakfast. The hard boiled eggs are much better when you get in early. The hotel have booked a taxi for us and shortly after eight we are on the road. Regular readers might be surprised to learn that our destination is the Airport rather than a railway station. It appears not to be possible to book Bangladeshi rail tickets from outside the country and D decided not to risk being unable to get seats. Not too many photos today so here is one of a double decker that D forgot to post yesterday.

Sunday is a normal working day in Dhaka and the traffic is heavy. Heading out of the city we have spells of free running between snarled up junctions. Heading in the opposite direction there is just mile after mile of five lanes across static traffic. Our trip includes a fleeting glance at a Bangladeshi train complete with full complement of roof riders. Our driver drops us at the front door and there is a refreshing lack of queue at the baggage security check. In no time we have seats in the check in hall.

D goes to find out when check in opens. Worryingly our flight to Sylhet is not listed on the screens. D makes for the Biman Airlines check in desks to be told 'Flight not operating'. After a bit of faffing about on a computer the lady says "Rebooked to 13.30". Not ideal but could be worse. On enquiring as to why we were not notified by email D is referred to the sales office across the hall. The man there speaks perfect English, issues new tickets and assures D that an email has been sent. When D asks about compensation his English disappears. Never mind. Plenty of time now to send a snotty email to Biman Airlines Customer Services.

The check in hall is a relative haven of tranquility amid the bustle of Dhaka. There is a/c, free WiFi and some of the plastic seats don't wobble. Entertainment is a bit sparse and retail opportunities are limited to a couple of snack bars. Communication is made with tonight's hotel who are expecting us and are happy to arrange transport to meet us. After about three hours enforced idleness check in opens for our flight. There seems to be a very free and easy attitude regarding ID at the check in counter. Ours is not required despite prominent notices saying that Photo ID is required.

The departure lounge is a step up as the seats are padded and there is a wider selection of catering outlets. Krispy Kreme seems like the ideal solution to the local sweet tooth but God knows what it will do for the nation's health. As an overall airport experience it falls short of the Emirates Business Lounge but beats  the likes of Luton and Gatwick into a cocked hat. Flight announcements are shouted out by the men checking tickets at the solitary gate. Several different airlines fly the same routes, often within a few minutes of each other and it appears quite common for passengers to attempt to board the wrong flight. Slowly the flights before ours disappear from the list. Then it transpires that there is another gate from which our flight will board. 

Once the flight is called it all goes quite smoothly and the only thing of note is the introduction where we are told 'Arriving 2.20, insha'Allah'. The Dash 8 turboprop takes off and turns a tight circuit over Dhaka before heading North East. As soon as we are in the cruise the cabin staff race down the aisle handing out Tiffin boxes that contain a small bottle of water and two very dry slices of Madeira cake. There is barely time to consume this snack before the boxes are collected in and the descent begins.

We shrug off a minor hiccup in the collection arrangements at the airport and are soon checking in to the Bottomhill Palace Hotel. Wonderful name and only £12 per night. The suite has rather spoiled us and our room seems to be very cramped but clean enough. First priority is a trip to the railway station to book our next two journeys. The CNG takes a circuitous route which we later learn is due to traffic restrictions in the city centre.

The booking office is right at the front of the station and the queues are not bad. Not a word of English anywhere. D has written his requirements down in the hope that someone might be able to read them. A chap with a vaguely official air asks 'Dhaka?' and waves D to the back of the shortest queue. A couple of minutes later he reappears and waves D round the corner and ushers him through the door into the booking office. The various clerks stop dealing with the queues to examine D's bit of paper. It is interesting to note that everything on the computer screens in the office is in English. After much tutting and frowning a pronouncement is made that the first train is doable but that there are no first class Sleepers on the second one. Is First Chair Car OK? No wait. How about AC Sleeper berths? That will do nicely.

Today has been rather sedentary so we opt to walk back to the hotel through the city centre. Our route takes us over a rather long and narrow hump back bridge known as the Keane Bridge. Cycle rickshaws and motorbikes are the only vehicles permitted so walking it is quite pleasant. We manage to spot a couple of options for supper tonight and arrive back congratulating ourselves on a job well done.

As we get ourselves ready to go out for the evening we discover that the bathroom door has jammed shut. Help is summoned but all he can do is pull the door knob off completely. He consults the boss and we are moved to another room, a bit larger and with AC and a kettle which we didn't have before. For supper our chosen a place is bulled up no end in Lonely Planet. The food is alright but nothing like as good as we had last night or the night before. We ordered Alu Raita which we think is potato in spicy yoghurt. The dish that arrived was small bits of potato in very sweet yoghurt. Strange.