“Travel far enough, you meet yourself.”

I used to travel because it was fun...
the flights, wads of tickets, business class, suits. and whisky , lounges and smoking compartments in those days..a feeling of superiority...the haves and have nots...the wines...and of course romance in the air...
no not the mile high club (and yes I am a member)..no the romance of seeing a late evening sun setting through the clouds...the closing light whilst on an airport approach....the special feeling of delight as you settle in a warm and comfortable (air namib) full lay flat bed with eiderdown cover...after the whisky  and meal..knowing all is well.............

Seriously, i´ve well over a million miles.............done it and seen it............

but doing what....and why....making multi´s richer....so somewhere at 23,000ft I decided to use the game to do some good....losing my father and my family in the process....

I was a middle child.....let my brother do the role leading, matching up tp expectancies and watching the younger one fail at just that,,,the sister that came later I never really knew..

Social, well meaning, moderate, forgiving, was the summary my mother would later give of me...
...socialist, was my fathers opinion..student..the world isn´t fair...he would tone as I told him of the worries of others in far off lands like ..wherever...

I was a BEEB boy, no ATV for me...conservative, blue tie surroundings..and all so wrong..expectancies of suburbian life....and actually and really...a hammer, and saw would have suited me better...solid work, clean work....and 300 quid on the side and a Jag....I saw enough of it all around...

but to have dissapointed the role my mother wanted (Dentist)..and the success of his own failures (dad) led me onto a sort of studying..POLY it was called in those days as due to self pity and sheer inability a-levels were a thing I could attain...managed a OND followed by a HND and finally released...

went to Saudi Arabia.....(stupidly I thought thats where Awrence was filmed...turned out to be Jordan...went there later to to the WADI...fucking marvellous...)---and got a taste of a few things----

money, self made alchohol, old sweats, biggets fucking spiders I´ve ever seen. and pathetic injustice....

whites (europeans) in a/c huts, and asians in shitty housing...on site accomodations and penal servitude...

....it was an eye opener......

6 weeks later I was in Europe creating my daughter.....with a lovely bombshell blond thing...who I later divorced...or she me..whatever..

so now infected by the bigger open world. and anchored to a darling little creature (not the ex wife)...I began my elastic band travels around the world...

sometimes makes you wonder....

a blogger brother led me into this...making the odd commentary about flying, my major pastime..as a way to alleviate the stress contained in this life I lead...

I promised him, after a few whisky evenings entertaining the crowd with stories and anecdotes about the life of a perpetual traveller and Margeaux drinker, to put pen to paper, or rather finger to keypad to tell a few of the stories I had experienced...

i´ve tried, really...but its all  a wash of those classic like "not so funny when it happened", 80 minutes in KL and all those other little paperbacks parked up in the bookstore at the crossroads of international flights..the international airport of your choice in the world today....Glass and steel palaces designed by gods of image in Chicago and Milan...all the same and practical.

I even tried to put to paper or screen all the images, fixed in my brain of the people seen, the scenes of separating, meeting, laughing, meeting, fighting, worrying, happy couples, families, lovers, travellers and the lost.

Recalled all the stress situations, the adreneline, the worried moments, anxiety caused by missed or nearly missed flights, the pleasures of upgrades, and the near romances, the interesting talks, the short relationships, and those that became life long friends....

but in retrospect...i´ve spent half of my professional life in a plane, or hotel room serving the needs of a unwanting, non-thankful multi who would send deepest regrets should my life end in cardiac between gate 4 and 5.

.............so I´ve decided that a blog, even if funny depicting this life..is surely not what the world truly needs on top...

During the travels, I evolved from a pure juvenile..to a worried world participator in the troubles that surrounded me in those countries I travelled to...my head filled with images of things seen and experienced
which may or may not make for a better blog!

its your call.............my true three followers...silly anecdotes..or a shot of reality..?

The luck of the Irish

....so this time I did it ! ..a budget flight..Irish no less..no not Airlingus or some other sexual connection..
worse Ryan air....
Bejesus !, what a process...just to get the flight booked !...its a mine field...click on the wrong button, or sequence and you end up paying quadrillions for baggage, insurance to cover the entire passenger list of the Titanic, seating arrangements for an Indian wedding and the wake afterwards…
So armed with my boarding card and the VERY clear instructions that should I appear at the airport with anything else in baggage other than booked I will pay the national debt of Somalia for the next three years as a fine, I cheerfully approach my local Ryanair ex-airforce base.
Surprisingly the little lady is pleasant as she tells me I have “priority boarding” and to go straight through….to the waiting line, in the waiting collection area, sub-divided into those “who have” and those “who don´t”, in the communal waiting room.
After seeing the brake smoke of the landing plane, we are “ordered to gather…passports open, tickets in hand for the 13;30 pm dash at Braintree…..its 60m across the tarmac…
…those that have are let off the leash first….elbows and expressly checked (dimensions & weight) carry-on baggage flapping in the driven snow!!....only to find the steps are still being dragged into place…
Wet and “priveliged” I slip into 2 F only to find that my on board luggage has no place above my seat and cannot be placed at my feet !...it disappears backwards…oh woe…I can imagine what happens when we land …
Seats built for the legless, non-tippable—succulent blue leather slippery and worn through!
Well its only for an hour and half they promise…doors close..middle seat takers dawdling and being hurried by Polish and Spanish speakers barking commands to SIT…and we are off….
Levelling out drinks at Ascot prices, and A5 greasy spoon tastes are quickly dispensed…asked all three 2D , E and F managed in unison to move their legs from left to right!.with those polite excuse me smiles !
…a fanfare rouses us all to inform us that …yes Ryanair has done it again, arrived on time that is…and not a moment too soon..anticipation rises..freedom…arrival and disembarkation…talk about the last helicopter leaving Saigon..but in reverse ! Sinking ship comes to mind !..
No ladies and gentlemen…if at all finances allow….TAP…no not the Portugese National airlines…but sound advice….
Take Another Plane !

Ladies and Gentlemen...

........we are currently experiencing turbulence please return to your seats and tighten your seat belts.....

Why does that always happen just when I finally get that cup of coffee I´ve been so waiting for, only to see it slop over the sides into the saucer destroying that little paper napkin, and worse my shortbread biscuits!

Is it a normal phenomina that turbulence starts approximately 1 hour into the flight when food is being delivered...a bit like the announcements that pop in just when you are about to find out who killed who in the in flight film...

I suppose its because we are all now routined, and enjoy the routine...so when that announcement comes through !, well we sigh ! and click annoyed with our tongues at the inconvenience.....and wait for the roller coasting to stop, hoping to retain a clean jacket, shirt , tie and heaven forbid trousers !





 

dont be silly young man

recently I  met her during a routine security check....

The respectable representative of the great British institution...W.I or Women´s Institute.
Tweeded, brown shod, (sensible), small tidy and neat handbag, be-hatted, and well equipped with a seniority brooch affixed as per general rule whatever on the right hand lapel....

"you would like me to do what" ..she exclaimed..drawing my attention.

I assumed that she had been asked to show her collection of private, creams and soaps and such like to a Gulag officer, to determine it passing into a one liter plastic bag.

Or maybe to raise her arms to height deemed both unpractical and un-ladylike for a flagship of her dignity!

Or worse still to place a non-existent Laptop in a tray...but no...

Attlia, demanded that she should remove her shoes!.....

the resounding exclamation of "don´t be silly young man" reverberated through the security area, followed by a resolutely determined madam sailing forth !....

We, mere mortals...followed meekly. shoeless, beltless and very much in awe....
 

you know that feeling when you hear...

"all doors in flight and cross check".....right!, lively now dart across and get that free seat you´ve been eyeing since you sat down next to jumbo in 19B...its like a game...you know you can´t move till the green lights on...you watch and wait for that magical announcement...of course yore stuffed if you made the mistake of going F on a day flight...you are doomed !...no seat chequers for you tonite....

"gentlemen start your engines."

..check out the others on the grid...14B still messing around with his belt, 14A eyes shifting, edgy on his seat...bugger he is three rows nearer than you...of course you could ruin the game by...please miss may I move to that free seat please ?....but thats the whimps way out !

Now you´re ready, checked the approach, silently going through the body check motions, slip and slide past, just as the last vibrations of the tannoi echo through the cabin..before the inane..."this aircraft is equipped with 6 emergency exits."...flight instructions for non-initiated!, anyoe worth his salt can tell you the layout of an airbus A300 stretch in his sleep.

all doors in flight...and before the cabin crew can thumbs up ....youre in, grabbing that extra cushion on the way..straight into...no..not what you think...window seat...nor the aisle...but the middle seat,,,6B....Yes, Yes...guess who is getting his head down on this two hour hop ! no one would want to join you why ?..what would be the point.......B´stard you hear him hiss...you can read his mind..."if he would take either the A or C but no B....little does he know you´ve planned it.

(tip: feel behind the arms there is a small clip release and the arms fold right up..push the seat belts under the seat cushions...shoes off, tie loose, window blinds down and...all doors in flight..

now wouldn´t that be perfect !,,as a kid I always thought, "how the hell do they lift off...and in the case of Thunderbirds ..nah never get off the ramp!