The journey's the hardest bit when attempting to get to Dhaka...

Before leaving there were several things I was particularly nervous about. Firstly whether I had actually booked a flight or not, you see in my endeavour to find the cheapest deal I had booked my flight off an online phone company from a man who spoke bad english and refused to send me a confirmation letter. Secondly I was scared that if my flight was real what kind of airline I had found, again I had been looking up reviews online the night before and they were not good to say the least; I was convinced I was going to end up in a battered old aeroplane with no leg room, broken toilets, and food that would make me very sick. And finally I was terrified of spending the night in Mumbai airport which I imagined to be similar to a Brazilian slum.

So as to quell my nerves and ease me into a new culture I had spent the last two days before at a hippy music festival with my dad and brother. My dad revels at the change to show off his new bracelets, ever growing hair, and share his plans to couch surf around the world. While my brother likes to believe he is way too cool for this hippy malark stubbornly wearing skinny jeans and sitting with his IPod touch out the whole time. One thing we do all agree on is the comedy stage where this year particular highlights included a very naked man, a very lewd guitar player, and a female comedienne who told us of her brilliant new invention whereby if girls wear their pants inside out they have a handy minge pocket. GENIUS. Even news of this couldn't quite quell those nerves though...

Practising for his hippy days...

My mother clearly just as worried told me to text her as soon as I arrived in Mumbai Airport, I reminded her that this was also the earliest I could possibly phone her. 'Well you could text me on the plane...'. 'No I couldn't.' To which SHE (Miss Worryer of the Century) replied: 'oh don't be silly it doesn't matter anymore. ' Even going as far as to take it as personal insult that I wasn't prepared to do this.

Luckily I did value my life so my phone was switched off as soon as I boarded the plane and bloody hell was I relieved that A) I was on a flight and B) the aeroplane did not look like it was on its last legs (just yet) so now I could just enjoy the flight. I don't quite understand why people don't like flying - for 8 hours you get a lovely little seat with a blanket, pillow, and your own TV. Then, to make life even easier, air hostesses walk down the the aisles serving you food and drink. In fact, thanks to the fasten seat belt sign and general lack of space, you are dis-couraged from moving - I reckon in another year or two they will have built in toilets to your seats. I imagine this in a similar style to Eastern European trains whereby it just falls on to the platform - I do see the difficulty of emulating this on a plane obviously.

What I have described would of course not occur on your average Easyjet flight but believe me those pointless wet flannels they hand out at the start of the flight add some extra excitement and make you feel all posh (who knew it was so simple). And as for the food - since I was flying with an Indian airline it was all of course, well Indian. Which meant vegetable curry for breakfast, a curried veg wrap for lunch, then more curry and a weird potato thing for dinner ( throwing my digestive system in the deep end). Lovely as the curries were, I would argue it is a bad plane food selection for a group of people in an enclosed space with poor ventilation and only 8 toilets...

Although I did get funny looks for taking these, you can now play the which one is breakfast, lunch and dinner game!

Swiftly changing topics the plane also proved amazing for people watching. One Chinese girl (I say girl she was mid twenties) had invested in the full Hello Kitty sleeping range so roamed about in huge slippers and a neck rest potentially to show off her purchases - I wasn't impressed. While some very hippy Londoners with broad cockney accents were a random addition to the mainly Asian passengers.

Escaping the plane at 11pm local time only meant a 9 hour wait until my flight to Dhaka. Unfortunately the 'Slumper Lounge' provided was already full of the we-sleep-anywhere Chines contingency. Hours of playing scrabble on my IPod were inevitable, I had been playing with my brother before and so it was set up for 'pass and play' - a mode I initially couldn't get out of resulting in me playing several games against myself (advantage being I can't lose). And when I eventually did the first word the virtual player came up with was vodka - conveniently duty free were also giving out free samples.

Another highlight of endless travel is of course getting to test out whether 48 hour deodorant really lives up to its claim, don't worry I won't spoil the surprise! The toilets in the airport also confusingly have a conventional one and a squat one - this seems madness why would you choose to squat?! It is like being offered a free air conditioned taxi ride and going nah I will take the hot, over crowded bus instead!

Escaping Mumbai Airport meant my final flight to Dhaka, more curry, and a little more sleep (word of warning Bangladeshi men don't like you falling asleep on them in aeroplanes). My first glimpse of Dhaka was pretty exciting though, it is definitely a cultural change with grey high rise buildings and huge shanty slums.