This is what I packed for India. Includes rash guard, reef shoes, board shorts, surf wax, head lamp, and three forms of Pepto (chewables, pills, and the ever-reliable syrup).
What does light packing say about me?
Moral superiority, of course.
At the Dubai airport: MAC and Kiehl's and Creme de la Mer and black burqa'd women and prayer rooms and counters dripping with gold.
I think I can finally stop pretending to be excited about this trip and get to it. First world problems, I know. Like the disgusting bourgeois beast that I am, I actually had to talk about my lack of excitement/dread about this India trip with my therapist.
Yes, I am an asshole.
In other news, all drinks except Champagne are free when flying Emirates, even for the lowly cattle compartment. Oh, that I could avail myself to such wonders, but alas, alcohol is not my forte.
Next stop: New Delhi.
