the road to the border, on a grey day, or would it just be pollution?
Our last road experience was the one to border, no, to the Akhaura landport (you have an airport, a seaport, so why not a landport?). It took us 4,5 hours to cover the 125 kms. Through an area which was not very pretty, with lots of industry – mainly rice processing factories.
one of the many rice factories along the road
yet, it is not all grey and colourless
even the people try to be colourful
under their, admittedly grey, umbrella
Leaving Bangladesh was a piece of cake. A friendly official took some money off us, departure tax, then another took our papers to the scanning machine, where he just got a stamp on the payment slip – no scanning necessary -, and then we got our passports stamped, “thank you for visiting Bangladesh”, the last smiles, and then off to the Indian border. The Agartala landport.
belief me or not, but here they call the border crossing a landport
Upon entering the gate, a soldier – border guard – wants to see our passports (1). We are then directed to another border guard, in a small cubicle, who wants to see our passports (2), and writes the passport data meticulously in a large book, by hand. Walking on, a border guard three meters away from the cubicle, who has been looking at us all the time, wants to see our passports (3). Then we enter the main immigration building, where we need to go through a metal detector. The officer here wants to see our passports (4). A man behind a desk marked health officer takes our temperature, and want to see our passports (5), which he studies in depth. Don’t ask me why.
Finally we arrive at the immigration desk, where, understandably, we need to show our passports (6). Stamped and all, we take our bags to a scanner. The man here demands to see our passports (7). We then change some money, no need to show passports, and we book a tuk-tuk into town, also a passport-free activity. But upon leaving the immigration building again, a border guard need to see our passports (8). Five meters further (five!) another border guard, who had line of sight of his colleague, wants to see the passports, too (9). Finally, we are in! When the tuk-tuk gets to the gate, to leave the landport, a man with a large book demands to see our passports, really, to write down the details once again (10) !!!
Welcome to India. I may have forgotten some of this bureaucracy, but better prepare myself for the next part of this trip.
before we move to India, first some observation on Bangladesh
arrival at the Bangladeshi check point
and here we are almost out, and into India, tantalisingly close
the gate keeper at the tuktuk parking, for a last writing down of our passport details
