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| View of Barcelona and the Mediterranean from Parc Guelle |
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Taking on Barcelona
Written while killing time in Frankfurt in September en route to Barcelona Spain.
I’m off for a very exciting trip to Barcelona for work. ‘Work’ in that it is for the preliminary press conference before the proper trade show next year. I.e the whole aim is to schmooz us so we write nice things about the conference and give them lots of coverage.
Here’s my travel journal.
Flying solo
So I’m very much a travel rookie. And a paranoid one at that.
So much so that I just had a minor panic attack at Frankfurt airport as I wait for my flight to Barcelona – my boarding pass clearly says I board at 9.20 and yet I suddenly panicked, imagining that my fight was actually earlier and I had missed it and now I was stuck in Germany.
Coincidentally, Curly is not too far away from here on a training trip for work too – so help would have kinda been on hand….kinda.
This paranoia is not borne out of nothing mind you. I have managed to miss a flight (absolutely completely got to the airport too late after a visit to Curly during Varsity days). And I’ve also booked a flight to Cape Town instead of PE once – and having to buy an entirely new ticket on a student budget is really not ideal. But this time around I should be able to trust the travel agent to get me to my final destination in one piece…provided I don’t screw it up of course!
But back to my rookie status.
So I have been overseas before – just not ever by myself.
So things like organizing tickets, buying forex and making sure I get to the final destination has never really been my problem. Until now.
So leaving things to the last minute is really what I do best (and considering I have a deadline-driven job, this means that I’m pretty much always living life on the ‘edge’).
So on Tuesday, the day before I was leaving I go into the bank to organize forex (getting in just before the 3.30pm cut off of course…..) only to discover that one must in fact order it 24 hours in advance.
Scuz me for thinking that I can just hand you some Rands and you’ll hand me many fewer notes of Euro back!
Luckily FNB is amazing (yes that’s a brand punt right there) and they promised to have my Euros ready first thing the next day. And there actually was some method to my waiting til the last minute madness….the Rand took a terrible dip against the dollar and Euro last week so at least by waiting til this week, it had recovered slightly so I got a few more Euros for my Rands!
Now, rookie error number 2:
Just a minor one – but I’m so used to local departures where you check in and then go through the boarding gates somewhere else…that I tried to do that at internationals at OR Tambo airport too. Apparently you’re meant to go past the check in lady to the departure area….woops!
Sinking down into my seat on Lufthansa was when the thought finally sank in: I’m on my way to Barcelona!
Rookie error number 3: Choosing a window seat.
Now don’t get me wrong – a window seat is great during the day so you can see some sights (and many clouds) on your trip – but if you’re flying at night, it’s not really going to be a bonus feature.
I did score though that there was an empty seat next to me so I could move my bag and stretch out my legs throughout the trip – and sprawl across the extra space when it came time to sleep (which incidentally, was not as easy as I had expected – thinking I was absolutely exhausted after my crazy last few days trying to meet deadlines!).
But where the rookie error really comes in is this – 10 hour flight, and you can’t get out of your seat to stretch your legs or go to the loo.
Of course, I could have asked the lady in the aisle seat but by the time I needed to wizzle (at approximately 1am when I had given up trying to fall asleep to the Lion King soundtrack) she was fast asleep.
No worries, I thought, I’ll just wait til she gets up to go and then make my hasty exit too. Except that never happened. Not once.
All I can say is thank goodness I only had one glass of wine at dinner and hadn’t plucked up the courage to call for the air hostess to bring some water in the middle of the night!
I’m now sitting in Frankfurt airport, calm and collected and feeling like a proper business women typing away on my new Mac Book Air. The sign has risen and I’m ready for Barcelona.
It’s definitely going to take me a day or two to stop converting Euros into Rands and being shocked by the fact that a bottle of water has literally just cost me R35 – more than the cost of a small sandwich I could have bought.
I suppose this is a good way cut down on calories (and cents) before the big Barcelona splurge?
Auf wiederzen for now!
Sigh
That’s all I can do as I look to see when I last posted on my blog.
Sigh because I have so many stories just sitting in my head itching to burst on to a page – but my creativity trap door gets shut while I try gain control of my work load.
Promises.
That’s what comes next.
Goals to blog everyday, or at least once a week, or to jot down titles in drafts that I’ll come back to.
Frustration.
That’s what I feel about this blog – because I’m really not doing it justice at all, nor gaining any kind of presence on the bloggersphere.
Which is part of why I have one in the first place – so for future job interviews I can showcase what I do on the online sphere.
Definition.
I also grapple with the purpose of this blog. Is it an online diary? A platform to showcase some of my articles – that really don’t get enough airtime on our website? A way to rant, explore and get creative?
I think it’s supposed to be a little bit of everything.
Either way – it’s not meant to be a lot of nothing – which is its current status.
And now?
So I’m not going to make any promises about frequency, content or excitement. I’m just gonna get cracking.
And now that I have a beautiful silver lap top (thanks to my boss realizing that (a) I need to be able to work from home to get everything done on my one man show and (b) my office Mac is packing now) I can do this!
Over and out.
Sheesh
Soooo..... I'm slightly embarrassed to see that my last post was on 22 August - that means that 2 whole months of my life have not been accounted for.
This certainly makes me wake up to the fact that life, too, could just pass by in a flurry of deadlines, parties, food and friends - without too much being remembered. Not to say I want this blog to be a diary of my life (that's what diaries are for I suppose) but just that I've had so many thoughts, comments, ideas and experiences over the last month that I myself have not had time (or taken the time) to remember and cherish.
But. that all changes today. Already the 2nd of the month (I actually had this thought yesterday and didn't take myself up to my laptop immediately to start on the project and as a result forgot). But I promise to you - and more importantly to myself - that I will write something, show something, think something at least once a day for the next month.
That way I hope to reconnect with myself, with my creativity and actually be on the Butterfly Journey that I had planned.
Good luck to me!
This certainly makes me wake up to the fact that life, too, could just pass by in a flurry of deadlines, parties, food and friends - without too much being remembered. Not to say I want this blog to be a diary of my life (that's what diaries are for I suppose) but just that I've had so many thoughts, comments, ideas and experiences over the last month that I myself have not had time (or taken the time) to remember and cherish.
But. that all changes today. Already the 2nd of the month (I actually had this thought yesterday and didn't take myself up to my laptop immediately to start on the project and as a result forgot). But I promise to you - and more importantly to myself - that I will write something, show something, think something at least once a day for the next month.
That way I hope to reconnect with myself, with my creativity and actually be on the Butterfly Journey that I had planned.
Good luck to me!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Dustbin diggers
Dustbin diggers.
They've become a regular morning feature for most of us as we travel to work - those rubbish collectors. Not the official ones hired by the City of Joburg's Pikitup to collect our trash - those guys (they're nearly always young black men) digging in our dustbins on the street looking for metal, plastic - anything they can sell for scraps - and anything else at all that might be useful to them.
Leftovers, old newspapers, broken gadgets and more.
'One man's rubbish is another man's treasure'...or so the saying goes along those lines.
I've written more than one article on these characters in local rags I've worked at (going to try dig these up) so it is not like it's a new idea to travel in the Fluffy mind maze...but an incident yesterday got me thinking about how crazy and unfair a world we live in that people have to dig in dustbins.....but at the same time a high five for taking their destiny into their own hands instead of begging at robots - not remaining a victim of circumstance. And perhaps they ought to be employed instead of the littering SAMWU strikers?
But back to my story...
Curly and I went for a lovely afternoon stroll around Melrose yesterday and as we were cutting through the park home we noticed a rather amusing site - a man had set up camp between some trees (I should have had my camera handy, perhaps). He'd created a make shift house using scraps and odds and ends - obviously requisitioned from some or other dustbin. There was even a bed base lying on its side - a dirty rug was more likely his bed though.
Anyway, Curly decided he wanted to go in for a closer look but I pulled away and walked up the hill instead, not wanting to look like a tourist at the zoo, gawking at the tigers and baboons. I thought it would be degrading and just plain rude to do a walk-by...before heading back to the comfort of a big house full of warmth and things.
I ended up waiting on top of the hill for Curly as he stayed chatting with the man (we named him Thabo) for ages....and I started to feel bad that I had underestimated his intentions.
And then he gave me a report back:
Thabo was just staying in the park temporarily, waiting for the man to come give him something because the job was done with the grass cutting machine. And then he was going to take all this stuff that he's collected from the stirring back to his 2 townhouses just down there - "they're only town houses." And this is actually his park and he's going to build a sea here for the boats.
He seemed to know exactly where he was and the surrounding areas...but was totally in his own world.
Happy but oblivious to his situation?
Or perhaps, happy because he has made himself oblivious (through some drug or alcohol or substance) to the situation he finds himself in.
They've become a regular morning feature for most of us as we travel to work - those rubbish collectors. Not the official ones hired by the City of Joburg's Pikitup to collect our trash - those guys (they're nearly always young black men) digging in our dustbins on the street looking for metal, plastic - anything they can sell for scraps - and anything else at all that might be useful to them.
Leftovers, old newspapers, broken gadgets and more.
'One man's rubbish is another man's treasure'...or so the saying goes along those lines.
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| A treasure trove for hundreds of unemployed |
But back to my story...
Curly and I went for a lovely afternoon stroll around Melrose yesterday and as we were cutting through the park home we noticed a rather amusing site - a man had set up camp between some trees (I should have had my camera handy, perhaps). He'd created a make shift house using scraps and odds and ends - obviously requisitioned from some or other dustbin. There was even a bed base lying on its side - a dirty rug was more likely his bed though.
Anyway, Curly decided he wanted to go in for a closer look but I pulled away and walked up the hill instead, not wanting to look like a tourist at the zoo, gawking at the tigers and baboons. I thought it would be degrading and just plain rude to do a walk-by...before heading back to the comfort of a big house full of warmth and things.
I ended up waiting on top of the hill for Curly as he stayed chatting with the man (we named him Thabo) for ages....and I started to feel bad that I had underestimated his intentions.
And then he gave me a report back:
Thabo was just staying in the park temporarily, waiting for the man to come give him something because the job was done with the grass cutting machine. And then he was going to take all this stuff that he's collected from the stirring back to his 2 townhouses just down there - "they're only town houses." And this is actually his park and he's going to build a sea here for the boats.
He seemed to know exactly where he was and the surrounding areas...but was totally in his own world.
Happy but oblivious to his situation?
Or perhaps, happy because he has made himself oblivious (through some drug or alcohol or substance) to the situation he finds himself in.
Monday, August 15, 2011
More motivation?
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| A girl can dream right? |
Although the bizarre weather that has struck Joburg today....rain, hail and even snow in some parts (but sadly not at my office) is not going to push me out for a run.
But after all, summer is coming (although most definitely not here yet)
- And I still the the Fattest Bridesmaid saga to fear
- And I'm already halfway through my Weight Watchers journey (and eek it's Weigh In Tuesday tomorrow - troubling after two weeks of public holiday and alcoholic occasions!)
So best I get running then hey?
P.S Promises for a more thoughtful and news relevant post soon as opposed to the self-involved nature of this one!
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