January 1 to 2, 2026
What was supposed to be a 12 hour layover at a hotel in Bengaluru (designed to avoid two overnight flights in a row) turned into two overnights in a row, with 6 hours in Paris, and 7 in Delhi (1). So, I hopped on a mid-day flight from Delhi to Dhaka (2), the Bangladeshi capital. The plane followed the Ganges Valley, with sun glinting off the river through the broken clouds to the south, and the Eastern Himalaya visible out the north side of the plane.
I stayed out by the airport where I could catch the morning train to Sreemangal. Wandering out at dusk, I encountered a cacophonous night market on a near street and sampled the street food (3).
(1) Neither layover was really enough time to clear immigration and get downtown. The morning flight from Delhi to Bengaluru was cancelled due to fog, so I decided to skip Bengaluru and head straight to Bangladesh.
(2) Both the check-in person and the outbound Indian immigration official seemed to think it odd I was leaving India so soon, especially to go to Bangldesh. Picture someone saying they were leaving Back Bay in Boston and going to Chelsea for a sense of the reaction.
(3) Spicy boiled eggs, barbecue corn on the cob, some vague fritter with spicy meat and peppers inside (a), and a thick, sweet spongy coconut rice cake, which the vendor made fresh even though some were already available. At a tea stall (served in ceramic and glass mugs) some locals insisted on paying for my tea.
(a) The only English he seemed to know was "five twenty"(i). Twenty five Bangldesh Takat are worth about 20 US cents.
(i) Reminded me of the Character of Mr Meegles in Dickens' Little Dorritt, who would say to his ward when she was angry: "Count to five and twenty, Tattycoram."
