On air: the best and worst airports by far

Every six months I pack my bags yet again to sit through a two day journey- the majority of which is spent clutching steel chairs as I struggle  not to fall asleep waiting for my next flight. It is rare that I get away with travelling anywhere without taking at least one connection. so an airport is- to me- the equivalent of a Bed and Breakfast- minus the bed and the breakfast of course. 



As airports form such a crucial and large part of any journey overseas I thought I should tell you about the 11 airports I have witnessed: the good, the bad and the tourist infested. Hopefully next time you book a flight with a nine hour layover in Dubai International Airport you will know exactly what you are getting into. 

Runway at Berlin Schönefeld Airport

11. Berlin Schönefeld Airport, Berlin, Germany
2 stars
This immaculate airport owned the bottom spot purely because catching a connection there is an inconvenient, inefficient process. This airport is not as large as some others which makes it time consuming to get onto another flight. You have to re-check in before you can reach security. At the check-in counter there are only two people available to help causing many snaking lines around the terminal. As a result- you wait in an hour long line for a flight you are already checked in for onl to join another line as you pass through security leaving you no time to grab a coffee before your flight. This all happened when I was four hours early for my next flight. 

10. John F. Kennedy Airport, New York, USA
3 stars
New Yorkers have been blessed with the Hudson River accompanied with excellent options to travel at sea. This can be the only explanation for their airport containing a mere skeleton of restaurants and coffee shops. Add a forty five minute routine check by customs in the mix and my first footsteps in the Big Apple are way less glamorous than the way I imagined it.

9. Dubai International Airport
3 and a half stars
A sweltering walk through the lengthy corridors as I run to grab my next connection is the best way to remember Dubai airport. Its hot, sweaty and not the best place to be after an 18 hour flight when your deodorant has been confiscated. On the plus side it is easy to get around, the duty free shopping is unbelievable and they have charging stations by the gates so you can keep your phone juiced up while you wait to board.

8. Miami International Airport and Seattle-Tacoma International Airport
3 and a half stars
These two tie in equally for me. It is easy to find your way in both. They both have an excellent selection of restaurants.

7. Frankfurt Airport
4 stars
If your German is fluent or your weird hand signals are on point than this is a quiet, efficient airport with a state of the art airtrain transporting you between terminals. 

6. Cape Town International Airport
4 stars
Cape Town brings a warm welcome to South Africa. Their complimentary luggage carts are a nice luxury after dragging your luggage around yourself or paying a fee in the States. The airport does not have as many shops as I would like. 

5. King Shaka International Airport
4 stars
A chorus of singers sing African hymns as you browse through the shops available. The only fault is it remains to be a bit crowded. 

4. O.R. Tambo International Airport
4 stars
Despite the sometimes unpleasant attitude of the workers at passport control this airport still makes me happy as it is my home. Did I mention you can use luggage trolleys/carts for free?

3. Heathrow Airport
 Four and a half stars

Going crazy while waiting for a connection at Heathrow Airport

As one of the most central airports in the world, Heathrow makes the connection process quick, easy and organized. Despite their disgust at all forms of liquids or gels. ( i have had many teaspoons of contact lens solution confiscated), you will find getting to the gates of your next flight relatively painless. Only problem? The restaurants and shops are overrun with travellers.

2. Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International Airport
Five stars
Excellent selection of restaurants, outstanding duty free and never has checking or connecting been so painless and efficient. My experiences roaming this airport has been nothing but positive. Only problem? I really hate paying for luggage carts. 

And the gold medal goes to....

Celebrating at Villa Italian Kitchen, Orlando Airport.

1. Orlando International Airport
Five and a half stars
The Disney fanatic in me adores Orlando airport. They have an awesome food court with a number of different cuisines to choose from. If a food court is not your cup of tea than a number of restaurants give you awesome options. My personal favourite is the Villa Italian Kitchen. They serve homemade bread and mouthwatering pizza. I think the pizza made the whole airport. 

Ode to the Crew Gym

Fitness selfies
Motivational posters,
Luminescent yellow walls
Blur as my eyes focus on my treadmill screen.

Just one more minute
One more rep
One more kilometre
Ten more calories
Closer to my goal.

They float around me
I float around them
Together- yet still alone.
Lost in our own worlds
Drowned by blaring earphones.
Together, we work for a common goal
To be stronger, faster and fitter than before.

Honey, don't forget the keys

Jangling in my pocket
Everywhere I go
Letting me know
Everything I have is still mine to keep

Opening doors familiar
Like my front door back home
The door to my office
Or my sunlit childhood home.

The tiny object needed
before you leave your house, your car.
My cabin.
So that you may return to a cocoon
Mutating from a bedraggled butterfly
Into a cosy caterpillar

Sometimes the other side of the door is not so anticipated
Even though we have the key
As the clock clicks open
Trust is your only protection
Trust in yourself:
a tremulous trust to keep.

As the door swings open
The cocoon is left behind
A fresh world is waiting
With a brand new set of keys.

Ode to the lost Carribbean

Lush waters tinged with blue and green

Float around sand infested with tourists

One for each grain of sand

Inflating the island with their crumpled dollar bills.

And their half-finished cocktails.

St Thomas Virgin Island

Taxi drivers baking in the sun

Hoarding throngs of people through the 80 sqaure kilometres

Of St Thomas Virgin Island. 

No speed is here. Every heartbeat ticks to the plod of the confused tourists.

Figuring out which beach to paste their half-naked bottoms on.

Tortola British Virgin Island

In this heat-singed mess, one can barely see

Any Caribbean flavour except the crystal blue sea.

The local spirit is as American 

As the Starbucks chain on the corner of the street.

Tourist traps plague the beaches of Tortola

Gone are the Pirates swilling rum, guarding their treasures

The real pirate has no booty but has fifty states 

And the whole island in its back pocket. 

St Thomas Virgin Island at night

Paradise Lost

"We will not be beaten, we will fight," chanted around 100 Bahamians as they crunched over the crumbling gravel in The Bahamas. In a sea of jewellery and souvenir shops they walked steadily, plodding one foot over another. They carried a face of quiet determination and placards. "End Chinese control over local markets," "Advocating for Juvenile Justice system redemption," and, my personal favourite:  "Paradise Lost: Murder, poverty, corruption."

The overarching grievance was the lack of transparency shown by the ruling Progressive Liberal Party(PLP). "We need a government that's accountable. We need a government that's transparent. We need a government that's going look out for the interests of Bahamians first and that's not happening," said an angry protester. It is no doubt that the Bahamas have some interesting issues to mull over while sitting on the sidewalk sipping on a Bahama mamma.

What fascinates me the most, though, is this glimpse of how other countries protest. South Africa, as of late, seems to favour burning cars, intimidation ending in increased police brutality with rubber bullets and tear gas. They are even resorting to rubber bullets with a metal core. The call for free tertiary education in South Africa is an ambitious, yet worthwhile endeavour, yet it has become a fight of control between police and protesters alike. It has become completely different to the march in the Bahamas which, in comparison, seems nothing more than a casual afternoon stroll with some chanting and signs for entertainment.

When my manager explained that there are riots outside the ship the same question was on all South African's lips- are there burning buildings, debris, rubber bullets, tear gas? It is sad that protesting has become associated with nothing more than violence, intimidation and police brutality. Our country has a deep history of protest culture. It is embalmed in our nature from when we are born and I would be a fool to not acknowledge that race is not a part of it. With black South Africa oppressed until 1994, they have much more experience with raising their fists- as it often was the last resort they had to go to to get what they wanted- basic human rights granted to all of white South Africa.

Our history where the only way we got anything was through violence means that today we fight before we march, we raise our fists too soon and the idea that you can call that peaceful march in the Bahamas a riot is laughable to any South African in the room. 

I want to say that we should take a leaf from the Bahamians' book and become more peaceful about our grievances but I cannot ignore that our history is streaked with bloodshed. I can only hope for us to unite sometime, someplace, somewhere. 

Christmas always goes according to plan

Faint wafts of Christmas pop tracks, over-worn Santa hats and the musty smell of pine from the Christmas pulled from their storage rooms warn me that Christmas is right around the corner. It is, in actual fact, tomorrow.

Christmas used to be my favourite holiday as a kid. Used to be. It is never good when something used to be. It has to be. It is not now. Now I am at sea, Christmas is one of the days I least look forward to.

It is not like I want to turn Grinch-like and hide in my room or steal Christmas. Its just Christmas is an exhausting day filled with families with at least one drunk person who thinks he is funny. Yes, it is usually a guy and yes I do wish I was just as drunk as him. I am not. Instead I have to try and get him to keep a straight face long enough for the second I need to snap the picture. Sounds easy enough roght? It is anything but. The reward? No Christmas presents, Christmas lunch or any traditions that make it feel like Christmas.

I try to make it happen. This year, I wore a Christmas hat for ten minutes until it got too hot. I watched a Christmas movie. Nightmare before Christmas is not depressing at all, right? We even tried to do Secret Santa so you get at least one Christmas present no matter how sad your life is. After last year where I spent $100 on a nice bag for my giftee and getting a cheap pair of earrings when my ears were not even pierced it just lost the vibe. The best thing about getting a gift is that, no matter how bad it is somebody cared enough to get it for you. Its the thought that counts. When Secret Santa turns gift-giving into a forced decision it somehow loses its meaning.

Don't worry, I am going somewhere with this endless rant of bitching. Although I would do anything to be back home, the Christmas there was not that spectacular anyway. My sister was admitted to hospital with acute pancreatitis. Christmas day was spent at the hospital with me on the other end of the world, worrying. That Christmas definitely did not go according to plan.

Every Christmas is different. No matter how wonderful or crappy it turned out the point of it is putting a Santa hat at least one, singing a cheesy Christmas carol at least once and making some kind of effort to be with your family. Whether that may be a Skype call, a message or, heavens knows, actually showing up for Christmas at least you can walk away saying you have tried. That is the most important thing after all. It is kot being naughty or nice. It is saying I've tried.

Day 1

“I’m not like all those other guys,” he says- winking while barely concealing the snigger peeking out underneath his dimples. He was just like all those other guys. 

Truth be told, I feel a bit like him starting this blog. I say it’s not another travel diary and I am hoping you will fall for it.

You see, after the early explorers and, later globalization made the world a much easier place to access- travelling has become pretty common. I do not open my facebook feed without seeing some new pictures from China, Italy or Vietnam from some lucky bugger on my friends list. And let us not forget all the new engaged couples tying the knot while I keep a brave, nonchalant face when the guy I passionately made out with last night ignores me on the way to work.

My lack of a successful love life aside- it’s not a big deal to take a trip away from home anymore. This leaves a problem for me. I work as a photographer on a cruise ship. This means I get paid while I see the world. When I started over a year ago I was living the life. I was in a new port almost every day. I ventured off the ship whenever possible- even when I was tired, hungover or just didn’t feel like it. I made myself feel like it. As a result I saw incredible things. I sipped rum on a beach in Jamaica, I caught a glimpse of the Northern lights in Alaska, I stood on top of the Empire State Building as the sun set over New York City. This is just a few of the awe inspiring things I have seen and done- all free of charge. Yes, I know I am lucky. Ps. this is me jumping into the ocean in Honduraz. Just one of the very many pictures I use to make people jealous of my life. 

The truth that not everybody knows is that I don’t do this every day. I may be moving at a speed of approximately 22 knots an hour on a permanent basis but I feel like my life is standing still. My day consists of a heavy dose of mind-numbing work with an occasional cocktail or coffee break with complimentary Wi-Fi on an island somewhere in the world. I know that people pay thousands to have a cocktail in the Caribbean but, for me, somewhere in the past one and a half year the extraordinary has become ordinary. The things people do to escape routine has become part of my routine.

Introducing …. (insert trumpets here)… my new way to find the extraordinary in what I do again. I am hoping that by sharing my experiences I can try and find some kind of meaning from them. Maybe. If not I will always be able to shed a light on the boring and the mundane things about my life at sea so that next time you see a cruise ship crew member bragging about their excursion to some tropical island you will laugh at them- knowing full well that ship life- or travelling is not always what you expect it to be.