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Full speed ahead

Published February 22, 2010 in passengers, Airports, blog, photos, France, French and On the ship. 7 Comments

radar

Radar speed & position input

Time to breathe some life back into this blog as promised in last years final posting. January was not a great month for me so I wasn’t in the mood for any attempts at wit on the internet, I took a few photos which will be put up here eventually. So the end of February is the start of the new decade for this periodically updated blog, I’m back at sea my home from home with my second family, who welcomed me back like the prodigal son without the slaughter of any fatted calf but with plenty of enthusiasm which warmed the cockles of my heart and brought a hint of a tear to my glass eye. A karaoke session was ordered and plenty crooning ensued, murdering many an Engelbert Humperdink ballad and a few versions of the now apparently dangerous “My way”.

For all the great welcome I received coming back the farewells were hard on leaving my home and the mood on the way to airport early on a cold January morning was low. My fellow passengers on the transport bus to the plane were mostly men, middle aged and bored looking, until the last minute when 8 55+ gold chained slick backed tanned white toothed Rolex wearing chaps fell onto the bus laughing and grunting all half drunk at 7 in the am, there appeared to be one leader who was more tanned and had more hair oil and a bigger Rolex than the rest he was a good foot shorter than his com padres and seemed to have a Napoleon complex, he proceeded to tell jokes and the others howled with unfunny cackles that had the empty echo of canned laughter. Their high spirits didn’t raise mine. On the plane one of them wanted my newspaper, he said “you can give me that when you’re finished with it” near suffocating me in whisky fumes and cigar breath, anyone else in the world and I would have gladly obliged but some divil rose up inside of me and refused, he looked momentarily perplexed, but he moved on down to his seat. I should have just given him the stupid paper, I got more annoyed by him than he by me.

The plane was late taking off prompting the French air hostess to move me to the very front of the plane so I’d be first off because of my short connection, she gave me instructions and said you’ll have to move quickly or you might miss your connection, so when the ground staff finally got the stairs to the door of the plane in Paris I was off like a bat outta hell, of course the next flight was from another terminal meaning a bus ride, I arrived at the passport control and they ushered me through, another staff member showed me to the bus and there I waited for it to move away. And waited. Until it filled up with all of my fellow passengers, and waited until my 8 shiny friends finished their cigars and climbed on all happy out.I probably would never have made it with or without the Las Vegas 8.

I duly missed my connection at Paris CDG so I had a 6 hours of terminal 2 watching the world go by. The world literally passed by, all shapes and sizes colours and creeds going to the four corners of the planet. I took photos of the architecture and the furniture and a few people too…

Baggage trolleys awaiting usage

Young Japanese woman avoiding the airport air.

Eventually I got my connection and I have sea views as I write. OK that’s it for today, more installments on the way!

10 minutes late

Published January 11, 2009 in passengers, Airports, Germans, Belgium, Germany and Planes. 2 Comments

One event can cause a whole day to stumble and stutter along, with an obstacle at every turn and 10 minutes can be an eternity especially when you are 10 minutes late.
Everything flows so well when you are 10 minutes early, the queue is shorter, the ground staff at the check in are friendlier and better looking, security not a beep from the buckle on your belt and a nice cup of latte while relaxing with the paper prior to boarding and it just so happens to be you that goes on board first, meeting the shiny lipsticked air hostess “bonjour monsieur”, bonjour to you too missus, and all the overhead bins are free from the millimetre perfectly fitting travel cases that all the dark suited legions have these days.

10 minutes late is another dimension, an eternity in hell.
The taxi was late, computer problem messed up the booking, by the time I can arrange another transport it arrives so in I jump, temples expanding and contacting slowly, drops of cold sweat falling from my oxter. No small talk in the taxi 45 minutes to the airport, thanks very much goodbye, check in desk 109, far end of the concourse, the witch from Stardust frowns sourly at me, halitosis nearly strangling me, do you have an e-ticket? a few clicks on the screen well I’m sorry sir that flight is closed and it is leaving in 20 minutes…phone call, the feel of mild panic flowing over me gripping my preverbial satchel, ok sir they will let you on, but your bag will have to be checked in on the oversized check in on desk 1, other end of the airport, ok thanks very much for your help, have a nice flight….fuck sake I hiss to myself as the moisture content of my clothing increases above the manufacturers recommended level for normal usage, nobody at check in desk 1….ring bell, hello anybody there, another sour looking 60 something, with security written over the badge. Can I help you sir….(in my mind yes you fucking well can, pull out your thumb and check in the bag) scanner clicked on bar code, can I see your passport, please wait here..tick tock tick tock hammering away on the face of the huge Breitling clock. Suitcase ok, security, beep, please take off belt, beep please stand here sir, hand frisking uncomfortably close to the aforementioned satchel, hand metal detector whhheeeing Ok sir, do you mind if I have a look in your bag sir? headache starts to make an appearance on the scene.

Boarding gate OK, climb on plane ok, the wandering folk are in the aisle trying to find their seat. How hard can it be? the seats are in numeric order, no tricks or anything still people wander up and down. German language greeting from the Captain, much longer than the normal welcome onboard, something about a “koffer”, thats suitcase I think to myself…then in heavily accented English(hard not to smile and think of ‘allo ‘allo), a computer problem, suitcase not identified, all passengers must exit plane and identify their bag, the two middle eastern gentlemen beside me don’t understand the Westfalian English dialect, and ask me in French ” ce qui se passe?”, luggage problem, must go off and identify bags, where are you heading, Beirut ah lovely time of the year for that, Israelis on the war path and all, they smile wanly.
More German, OK problem solved, everyone back on, delayed of course but now we can head to Frankfurt.
First relaxing moments since late taxi, cold Warsteiner, things can’t be so bad….connection time in Frankfurt short, run off plane, gate change, ok same terminal thank jaysus, walking quickly sweating, Brussels? what, boarding card, don’t have one, told me to go direct to gate not transfer desk ok, on plane 2. Inhale the lovely fumes of jetfuel as I collapse into my seat, stare aimlessly out of window, and notice that all the German planes have a 5 digit identification number starting with D, then a dash then A and three other letters D-AQUI was one I noticed. take off landing Brussels, arrival gate at far end of airport from exit, escalators down into the ground long travelators, more escalators up, stairs and finally baggage carousel, why am I waiting here I think, there is no way on earth the suitcase made it….hope, pray, ignore headache….no suitcase, baggage reclaim..fill out form…get piece of paper, don’t call us, we’ll call you.
Outside the taxi is late, my headache is worse, hotel bed bad nights sleep headache keeps waking me up, phone call next morning, bag recovered, smile headache fades.

All for 10 minutes….

oh yeah, and I seem to recall noticing as all the economy class crowded in to the buss with the none too pleased business passengers that the identification letters on our plane were D-ARSE……

Home again, home again jiggety jog.

Published September 24, 2008 in Airports, passengers, pinch of salt required and At home. 7 Comments

The port wing of my second and final flight yesterday, the aircraft was a Fokker 70. The first plane was also a Fokker, a 50 though, and it felt like being on a Honda 50. According to my schedule I had an hour between planes, which is grand if you are on time and you only have carry on baggage. My first plane was late leaving. Subsequently I had only 40 minutes to get to my other flight, which of course was on the other side of Schipol Airport. So I had to do the walk-trot-half run across the long corridors and through the shopping area. Anyway I got to my plane, but the suitcase had to take a later flight, it not having legs and relying on the throwers to get it on the right wagon. But I got it in the end, safe and unmolested. On my way I met

Airport phenomenon#1 Aimless wandering. If you happen to be in a rush between two flights you will often encounter these types. Sightseeing tourists, marveling and the grandeur of the airport concourses and escalators. There should be shepherds to move these out of the way of

Airport phenomenon#2 People in a hurry. If you happen to be aimlessly wandering around the inside of an airport you will be undoubtedly knocked over by one of these people. They are often in symbiosis with

Airport phenomenon#3 Public Corporate bullshitters. If you happen to be aimlessly wandering, in a hurry, taking a leak, waiting for a plane, you will hear these types long before you see them. They most likely have a blue tooth headset and look like they are talking to themselves but are actually on the phone taking a kind of gibberish designed to confuse and annoy the normal members of the public. Phrases like “downsizing” “mission statement” “business paradigm” & other corporate bullshit can be heard among the other words in the loudest possible voice known to mankind. Of course corporate bullshit was invented to give these types something to say, because they don’t appear to have normal lives where they might have recourse to using English. As you protect your ears from being damaged you will probably see

Airport phenomenon#4 Cleaners. People dressed up as cleaners with utility trolleys filled with ALL the chemicals known on Earth in spray bottles. They don’t actually do any cleaning when anybody is looking, unless they see

Airport phenomenon#5 Supervisors. People wearing lots of mobile phones and radios which are usually switched on to the “white noise” channel with full squelch, they are weighted down with security passes and keys on extendable key fobs, and have a shiny white pale palour as they have never seen the light of day.These are dismissively ignored by the

Airport phenomenon#6 Air crew. The women are tall and skinny and look important, the men are all shapes and sizes but have the uniforms that have the gold or silver stripes around the arms and the hats of course. The women walk tall too, because they are probably too tall to stand upright in the plane while looking important and serving tea and coffee and the rest (my ticket said “meal unspecified” yum yum) so they need to stretch out while parading the concourse.

There are tons more phenomena associated with airports, not least the security and the check in desks or small kids driving their parents to distraction. They should have 2 queues going in, one saying “have you ever been at an airport before or flown on a commercial flight?” the other saying”is this your first time here? or are you completely insane and intend to wander aimlessly around getting in everybody else’s way?” Ah well at least I wasn’t heading for Casablanca yesterday.

Casablanca

The Vomit

Published January 23, 2008 in passengers, Wales, UK and Maritime. 1 Comment

“Vomit Point” and “The Vomit” are two interestingly named geographic points on the chart near St. Annes Head outside Milford Haven in Wales. They may have nothing whatsoever to do with getting sick, but I’m sure there are plenty of ferry passengers who might disagree after crossing the Irish sea being bounced around. The first question asked of visitors from England was “did you have a good crossing” meaning did you have to puke or not. Nowadays Ryanair transports more visitors to Ireland than the ferries, but the puking is still the same……
The name of the port here Milford Haven has been a cause for great amusement among some of the younger guys, they have changed the letters around a bit and abbreviated it to Milf. Heaven, pathetic really. Some people are easily amused, youth these days.

Grande Brasile

Published December 8, 2007 in tourism, Cruise Ships, passengers, ship spotting, France and Shipping. 2 Comments

One of the famous Grimaldi Line Ships, seen here leaving Le Havre on her way to Bilbao, then Casablanca, Dakar, Conakry, Rio de Janerio, Santos, Montevideo, Zarate, Buenos Aires, Paranagua, Santos, Rio and Dakar. Talk about a fantastic trip.

She will be back in Dakar for the second time on the 17th of January, and New Year will be celebrated between Santos and Montevideo. You can take a cruise as a passenger and enjoy a more robust and realistic cruise, seeing the working end of a port instead of the normal shoebox cruisers with thousands of passengers. A round trip can cost from €2500 up to €5000.

There is a full rundown on their homepage Grimaldi Freighter Cruises
, one of the interesting is that you can take your own car or bike, and then go for a spin around in the country you visit. It is a fairly unique type of trip. They must be fully booked all the time. This particular vessel could do with a lick of white paint in places, the disadvantage of white, the rust shows up so well.

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