Talking of queues.....

A last minute run to Mumbai caused me to make a personal visit to the Indian Embassy on the Aldwych this morning. What an amazing taste of the real India... At 8am I joined a 400m queue round the building that looked like we were waiting for tickets to a reincarnation of the Beatles. Why didnt I stop and get that coffee to keep me warm! The prize of this queue was to get a hand numbered ticket. We moved rapidly down the pavement as if someone was pulling the end of a rope trick. Once at the window, the handwritten ticket was passed over and a brave man, protected only in his woolly cap, smuggled people into the side door. Once inside, a large room crammed to the rafters with bewildered people. We watched a numbering system tick down with alarming alacrity as 10 windows were besieged and paperwork mountains professionally grew behind tins of cash. No cheques please, they take time. Go away for coffee and you pick up your passport duly stamped an hour later, scrum permitting. By 10.30am, the queue had been beaten, numbered, administered. An hour later the whole thing was done! That's one side of India. Hugely efficient administration marked by chaos, lack of signposting and directions. Stress levels raised by lack of clarity, a certain lack of style, and a whole lot of indifferent but efficient staff. The other side of India? A tiny drop from the inward investment and the tourist budgets, together with a entrepeneurial restaurant owner would have the whole experience dressed in turbans, colour, technology and the kind of service that India can do so well. After all it happens every day apparently.