Live in your own time zone-

This is quite a serious post but what has bugged me quite a lot lately is how fast the people around me seem to be moving in their own lives. People seem to be running the four hundred metres while I still feel like I am walking the dog. It is giving me flashbacks to the hot, sweaty shame of coming last at every race at school. Have you ever logged on to Facebook only to find yet another person moving to a new city, starting a cool new job, getting engaged or having children, while the only exciting thing you did today is try a mayonaise instead of the usual ketchup on your sandwich. 

The one thing I love most about our generation is our determination to follow our passions- and if we don't like something- our guts to make a change. It sets us apart from our parents or grandparents that stuck with one job for twenty years even if they were not always in love with it. There are so many inspirational people I know. They are kicking ass every day- getting articles published in magazines, writing and publishing whole books, travelling to different parts of the world and even starting a life in a brand new scary country. These are the people that inspire me to believe anything is possible. The only thing needed to be done is to take a risk. 

The only downside to this is logging on Facebook is starting to feel like Russian roulette. I still love checking up on everyone but everytime i open the familiar blue and white pages- I am exposed to a new engagement, a new move and a new job while I cannot even commit to trying the dodgy-looking new noodles in the crew mess. I am overwhelmed by how repetitive, ordinary and "stuck-in-the-rut" my own life has become. It becomes yet another thing I don't like when I look in the mrror. 

Don't get me wrong I am not one of those people who believe that we are in competition or that you have to "climb over others to reach the top of the ladder" in your career. I believe that there is room for everyone to get what they want as we are all different, have different goals and offer such different skills and talents. There is room for everyone and if others can get a cool job, move to a different city, get a degree or travel to somewhere amazing I do not see any reason why I cannot. The only problem is time. 

These massive life moves take time to happen. While I was happily uploading my graduation pictures, my friends studying medical degrees were sitting at their laptops- fingernails clicking impatiently on their desks crammed with notes for a degree they still had no idea that they will pass. While some are signing wedding contracts others are still looking for someone that will text them back once in a while. While some are getting their dream jobs others are trawling the jobs section of the newspaper- rocking up at interview after interview. The people getting what took time to get it and we all do not get what we want at the same time. South Africa is six hours ahead of Tortola British Virgin Island. It is not early or late. It is simply in a different time zone. The same goes for people. 

My best friends from my last contract on a ship sailing from New York left the cruise ship industry a few months ago. They criticised me for going back for another contract. They had both been on ships for longer than I had. They had already left a contract thinking they should quit yet gone back for another try. By the time they left they were truly done yet I needed a few more months to get there. I still wanted some more adventure. We were in different time zones. 

Some graduate by the age of 21 yet only find a their dream job by the age of thirty. Some graduate at age 29 and find a job immediately. Some get married at 21 and are divorced by 40 yet others get married at 40 and remain happily married until they die. There is no way of measuring yourself up against others as we are all have our own journeys. 

This doesn't mean that I am going to feel any better when I log onto my facebook page and I see someone two years younger than me engaged with her own apartment while I do not even have my own room- it is just something I have to remind myself that my moment is still on its way. So watch this space. My time zone is a pretty nice place to live after all. 

Dear Diary: Old endings become new beginnings

Today is no ordinary day for me. Today marks the final leg of my contract at sea. It marks the time where I start counting down the weeks and not the months. I have two months left on this ship. That is eight cruises, eight formal nights, eight embarkation days, eight more days in St Thomas, eight more afternoons in the Bahamas, two days out in Miami and sixteen more hours to enjoy Tortola. I have eight more blog posts to tell you about the Carribbean. After that? Who knows where in the world I will be.

Drinking wine while sailing into St Thomas-one of my favourite memories this contract

It is funny how you feel you have tons of time but when that time is over you feel it has flown by without any time for you to catch your breath in between. This contract has passed so swiftly leaving the bittersweet taste of warm beer from the crew bar, the caress of island sunshine and the stale smell of the dusty air conditioning system installed on the Escape.

I personally cannot believe I survived a full four months of smiling at strangers and visiting the same islands every week. Miami, St Thomas, Tortola, Nassau, Bahamas. Every week. It sounds wonderfully exciting to the old me- stuck in  one city for years, however my heart has become a gypsy heart- always on the run. I no longer itch for travel, I lust for it and it would be very difficult to settle for any kind of life living in one place.

My ship contracts used to have at least three different cruise itineraries. I sailed to Alaska, to Mexico, Columbia and the Panama Canal, finishing up in Jamaica. I have done the Eastern Carribbean, then the Western Carribbean. I took a ride on the ship to Nova Scotia, Canada for a few weeks. It was there when I fell in love with ships. Almost every day I woke up in a different place every day, I lounged on a different beach, hiked up a different trail and saw a different site I had never seen before. True, I was never fully experiencing each place based on the limited time we had there but life passed in a never-ending whirlwind of colour.

Throwback to NYC- fresh from the Ocean

From the late nights in crew bar to the breakfasts in NYC- working in ships was different to living in any city in the world. New people came almost every week and old people left. It is a place where the only constant, stable thing is change itself. 

Somehow it no longer feels like that anymore- my nights in crew bar have become shorter and less regular, my itinerary has stayed the same for the full six months and, even though I wake up in a different place every day it is still the same place I went to the week before. Do not get me wrong- I still have fun. I just can't shake the feeling that I am living in one place- that moves around but is still the same.

Perhaps I am growing up, perhaps the novelty of ships have worn off. I know that when you have been on ships long enough to know that the disgusting mix of dough and bones in brown liquid they call "Carribbean soup" is actually delicious then you are no longer fresh to the game. (I am not  kidding there was always a line for that soup and I used to wonder what was wrong with those people. I now AM one of those people. Anyhow- something tells me I have learnt all I can from working and living here and I know in my heart it is time to move on.

"Moving on" in Miami.

This is why I am certain this will be my last few weeks on a cruise ship- the beginning of the end. I have plans for the future but I do not yet know what is next to come. For now I will enjoy my last few weeks in the Carribbean as much as I enjoy the last few sips of beer at 2am. I will relish my journey back home and- no matter what happens next I will always keep you posted. 

A Carribbean toast to new beginnings.

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

12 signs you know you are going to have a bad day

I rocked up to work this morning at a ripe 6:30 in the morning with a red bull rattling in my stomach for breakfast. As the elevator took a slow walk to China up to my workplace I tapped my foot- annoyed. I was reminded of all the things that can ruin your day. Here a are a few:

1. When the elevator stops at every floor on your way to the penthouse.

2. While brushing your teeth you spill a drop of toothpaste- staining a perfect blouse

3. You pull your favourite outfit out the closet only to find it is creased beyond words.

4. Traffic. No other words needed.

5. A row of people taking over the entire pathway while maintaining the slowest pace of all time.

6. Taking a sip of ice-cold coffee you have left out for too long.

7. Burning your breakfast or skipping it altogether.

8. When your boss schedules you a day off but you are in port manning and cannot leave the ship (cruise ship workers will know all about this one).

9. Waking up too late to shower and- as a result- feeling disgusting all day.

10. Wearing granny panties because it is laundry day.

11. A giant zit on your face

12. Negativity from anybody, anywhere, anyplace, anytime.

1 sign you know you are going to have a good day? When your bra and panties match.

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. 

Jumping the broom

Amidst crashing waves, sun-soaked sand and azure blue skies of St Thomas Virgin Island I was lucky enough to witness my roommate marry the love of her life.

Despite the beautiful location, it was one of the most modest weddings I have ever attended. Her fiance went to work at 5am to 9. Afterward she finished, they gathered their paperwork and donned simple short, white dresses. My roommate even refused my help with hair and makeup. They headed out to the gangway off the ship to Lime Tree beach- inviting some colleagues who were able to get away from work to join them. Luckily we were mostly photographers so they received a full, free wedding photography service. The "reception" was a cocktail and lunch ordered at a restaurant on

During the same time my school friend got married with full, wedding reception, ballgown and flower-strewn church service attached. She married her boyfriend of three years. My roommate married her girlfriend of three months.

Despite their differences they both believed that it was the right time to get married. When I was younger I used to believe that you had to be with someone for years or live with them before you even though of marriage but now I know that when you are ready you are ready. If its the right person waiting three years before will not make a difference.

This post is a bit personal yet I want to share the most amazing thing I have seen while travelling on a ship. That is something you see every day: love and its ability to conquer all obstacles. I have seen people who live halfway across the world from each other cross that distance after only a few months of even knowing each other. You would think living a lifestyle on a ship would close your heart to love but I have seen it make people more and more open to it. My own ship love affair brimmed with crazy emotions and happiness. We never had the ability to dress up and go out for dinner at night like I did with my boyfriends at home yet I still felt the romance flaring between us. I suppose less romance leads to more sincerity and, in the case of my roommate, the minimalist wedding she had was more than she ever dreamed of.

During that dark time in our past known as the slave trade- "negroe" men and women were never allowed to be married yet love conquered all obstacles and they defied this rule. They swept a broom under their feet-jumping over it together- making them man and wife. Without a marriage license they were just as married in their hearts as any other married couple.

Customs around marriage have changed over years and through continents but love which is passionate enough to face more than a few obstacles is something that will never change- no matter the place or the time. Now that, is the biggest wonder of our world.

Polaroid Pictures

Pictures on a wall

Glaring, staring wide blue eyes

Peek at me when I look at the ceiling

Faces of what once was

And what I wish could still be

Creep across the room at night

A flutter of glossy paper, a thousand misplaced polaroid pictures

Scatter the corners of cupboards and draws.

The faces of a thousand possibilities

Of love that would have been

Friends that could grow old with you

If it weren’t for the tug of fate pulling you away like

Gravity pulling the putty holding the picture to the wall.

Instead they go with me everywhere

In my suitcase, in my draws and sometimes, if it is not too painful

On the wall- a spotlight of a faded memory.