Best. Airports. Ever. Part II

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Fed up of mincing through the airport security in your socks with your belt-less trousers round your
ankles? Then fly through Dallas, Texas - they give you little elasticated shower caps for your feet so you don't have to schlub around on their scabby floor. Bloody brilliant idea! You might still have your arse hanging out of your de-belted trews, but you won't have to brush floor-pepper off your sweaty feet before popping your shoes back on after security. Fanks, chaps!

The Simpsons get unionised

So, it was after a few minutes of watching local TV station KRON 4 (named after Kang & Kodos' cousin from out of town) that I realised that the BART strike was actually not a result of the pay -demands from a precocious fictional 11 year old cartoon character. It turns out that transport workers the world over are downtrodden and underpaid/spoilt kids (depending on where you're standing on this argument). Having left the threat of TfL strikes in London I have flown straight into threatened strikes on the BART and the buses in San Fran. Good job I'm enjoying the hill-walking around town.

Before anyone starts getting on any political soap boxes, calm your tits. 

I am not here to comment on the specifics of the proposed strike, nor am I going to comment on the principle of Unions, blah blah blah. TBH I don't know the specifics, and I couldn't comment on the way transport workers are treated in the US anyway - I know nothing of pay and benefits.

Its just interesting that at a time when I'm seeing so many differences between my homeland and my new city its actually quite comforting to see this parallel. There are the same characters, the same complaints and the same anger. There is much more of a media pantomime here, though, which makes it easier to identify your own heroes and villains. It also makes it easier to suss out the political allegiances of the respective TV stations, which is very handy to know when you're trying to make sense of other stories. I'm looking at you, Fox news...

Interesting as this is I hope it all gets resolved soon though - unlike London there seem to be less public transport options here, so if the BART goes down people seem to have to get up at ridic-o'clock to get buses/coaches. If the tube goes down its a massive pain in the arse, but, even at the arse-end of the Northern line, there are still other options.

Drier than a camel's chuff

Our last flat was damp. And I mean properly, mould-arousingly damp. It was sometimes a pain, but I'm British, so damp is more than a fact of life. Its something I fondly remember throughout my childhood. Like wagon wheels and wotsits.

Well, it turns out that the West Coast of America is not damp. It is very, very dry. To the extent that I am considering buying some nasal moisturising gel. That's not even a thing in England?? And I know that makes me sound like a bit of a sickly adult - 'my nasal mucous membranes are defective, *sniff*' - but bearing in mind there are a variety of nasal moisture products on the market I don't think I'm the only one.

Its just something that I've never experienced before, and no-one warned me. I'm from a coastal city, so I assumed dampness would be universal in coastal towns, but not this one. We're apparently in the middle of a bit of a heatwave thanks to a wind from inland (east), so, using my amazing meteorologocal powers, I'm going to guess that the dry air is blowing in off the desert (calling upon my geographical expertise there, too) and that as soon as the winds change and start blowing in off the sea the air will be cool and moist once more. So, basically, I don't think this is a permanent thing, but, like the garbage disposal unit, it was not something I was prepared for.

While I wait for the wind to change I'm off to Walgreen's to buy some nasal moisturiser. I have a coupon. Oh yeah, coupons, that's a big thing here too.

Travel winge 6

Today's irrational winge - toilet attendants

 Now, I'm not a prude, but there are some things a gal doesn't want to share with other people. That includes the gaseous build-up of a 10 hour flight. So when I'm trying to find a place to dispense with the problem with as few people knowing about it as possible I'm mortified to find a lady pointing to the stall she wants to to use (how did she know I was coming?) and then lingering outside wiping the basins while I pretend to use the facilities.

Its not the ladies themselves (I had a lovely conversation with a lady in Mumbai who explained how to get a shine on your marble wash basin using a small tealite and some hot water) its just the time and place are all wrong. A small room next door, or at least a seat outside to save my blushes and their nasal passages.

Splendid bit of plug-related travel gadge

I'm a gadget whore. No biggy. Particularly when travelling. And I always forget my travel adaptors and have to buy one in a local drugstore (at ridiculous expense!)


This bad boy will be awesome for when you buy a 'local handicraft' lamp (that you then spot in Ikea back home) with a wierdy, not-british plug. And the world is right again :)
Euro plug converter

And the Slimplug is flippin genius. It can be hard to squish your 3-prong plug into your hand luggage (so you can do a bit of work/play some games at the airport). Then I saw this when wandering round Maplin looking for a replacement sky remote. Awesome. They should get a medal.

Best. Airports. Ever.

I've done a fair bit of traveling recently and, when some of the airports are crapper than a KL toilet you really appreciate the good ones. Here's a roundup of the best and worse I've been in recently:

Bangkok: Such smiley staff and a big airy building this place was nice enough. Then at the security check they gave me a ticket that corresponded with the basket my bag was going through the machine in. The chap at the other end of the scanner would only give you a bag if you had the right ticket - really simple but for someone paranoid about her work laptop it made me much happier. (Oh yeah, I've heard all those scare stories about people nicking your stuff while you get manhandled by the security staff. Talking of which, the fiance got WOman-handled by the security lady - she was quite thorough with her pat-down and I think on the flight back he will probably fill his pockets with all the metal objects he can find to ensure the same treatment).
The other sensible idea was a series of signs at the gate showing the row numbers they're calling. I get REALLY arsy with people that dont follow the rules at the airport (get in the queue, jackass!) and this seemed to stop those wazzocks who barge to the front of the queue even when they've only called sprogs, the elderly and the infirm.

Singapore International: Awesome from start to finish. Whether its the big screen tvs or the spas offering massages I'd happily waste a few hours here.
Update: I know this isn't strictly a cool thing about the airport, but I have to applaud their thinking somewhere. On each ATM they had a list f the next 3 closest ATMs, just in case that one wasn't working - genius! And their underground transport system is organised so well. Each stop is numbered (in addition to having a name) so no worry about getting confused between Elephant and Angel or Bond Street and Oxford Street (I'm guessing to a non-native speaker, or my mum, thats all pretty similar looking). Much more sensible.

Singapore local: Average airport, but I cannot say enough good things about the ground staff of the community airline, Firefly. I was mega delayed for checkin and nearly missed my flight, but they let me check in and rushed me through to departures. And all of that good service with me looking like a knob in a cowboy hat (long story, don't ask).

Doha: Only a tiddly airport, but the free quiet rooms with loungers where you can take a nap were awesome.

Kuala Lumpur: Not much to write home about (although they do have a vending machine with postcards and stamps with a post box attached), but the self-flushing toilets were a touch of genius. No more questionable hygiene on the toilet flusher - the action of your arse leaving the seat is enough to trigger it. They just need to create self opening doors now (oh, wait, they have?).

Stansted: Not exciting or exotic, but their pre-booked, long-term parking system worked a treat. book online, turn up with your credit card and instead of tacking a ticket, just slip your credit card into the barrier on the way in and the way out. They get the bus to the terminal (easy peasy). I was a bit worried that we'd be standing at a cold bus stop for hours/have to pay twice etc. but it was quick and painless.
The Ryanair priority boarding we bought worked well here too - no scrum for a seat, we walked straight to the front and had our pick. Didn't work well on the return leg in Marseille mp2 though - lots of shrugged shoulders, cross english people and a sweaty seat-scrum. Give me my goddam money-back!

San Francisco: Longest. Taxi. Ever. Felt like we drove halfway across the state to get to the plane parking space.

Madrid: Yeah, I know some UK airports are serviced by metro or tube systems, but the Madrid Airport express was so bloody cheap it deserves a special mention. And it was pretty easy to buy from the tube station. And its covered in shiny, colourful signs to let all the stoopid foreigners know where they are and where they'll end up. Marvelous. Shame they couldn't manage a croque monseur that didn't taste like shit.

Abu Dhabi: Crud.

JFK: The big bit - awesome. The AA terminal - mega disappointment.

How not to look like a tight git

I don't want to look like one of those losers who can't wipe their ares without an iPhone app, but I am, so its hard.

Maths isn't my strong point and the tipping culture in the States (aside form being fundamentally ridiculous - if the tag says $50, why have I just paid $56. I know you want to be able to fluctuate the rate according to the economic status of the country, but, no-one has a clue how much their paying til they get to the checkout?!) was a challenge, especially with all the urban legends of waiters chasing tightwad tourists down the road.

So, my tip-calclator app was spot on. I think 17% may have been a little generous (even though thats what the bloggers said) but 'Mandy' said that I'd 'seen her and her daughter right', so I've done my bit for the American economy. You're welcome.

Travel winge 5

Today I am annoyed by - being followed round a shop

Whether its the quiet suspicion of the security guards in Kuala Lumpur airport or the desperate animatedness of the 'sales hosts' in the States I am not used to being tracked as I shop. I can feel pretty self-conscious as it is without someone monitoring my every move. SOD OFF. I am not going to steal/buy any of your crap (respectively) so you can go and track that old lady over there. I think she put something in her sholly and is shuffling towards the exit.

Travel winge 4

Massive check-in queues, part 2

I generally get it in shops, admittedly, but I've recently had it 3 times at airports. It drives me crazy when someone who's serving you doesn't stop their conversation and make eye-contact (not in the creepy, 'you like robot-wars', way the bint in Costa looks at me - if she didnt look so vacuous I'd think she was taking the p*ss). The last 2 times it's been in a stationary shop at Gatwick (she couldn't even be arsed to tell me how much my copy of Glamour and bag of snack-a-jacks was going to cost me) and, even worse, at a transit desk! Not like its stressful enough entrusting the safe passage of both my luggage and (more importanty) my personage to this fudge-head, but in the midst of a chaotic smear of people at the transit desk he spots his chum from flight school and hops out from behind the desk to give him a hug! Pay attention! When you're on the phone to your bank they don't pause mid-transaction to make a cup of tea for their pregnant colleague who's just popped in from maternity leave to say hi to the old crowd? Actually, maybe they do - maybe thats what they're doing when they ask you to hold while they check something on their system and play an acoustic version of 'Hello' by Lionel Ritchie down the phone. Dammit.

Travel winge 3

So today I am annoyed by - massive check-in queues

Seriously though; you do this everyday, right? This is your job - to get people on a plane? And yet it seems like this massive wad of people in front of you is a surprise? It drives me crazy when check-in staff can't prioritise passenger check-in according to  who's taking off first. It usually ends in a single member of staff wandering down the line asking, 'Amsterdam? Anyone for Amsterdam?' 10 minutes before the flight's due to leave! I guess thats why the big airlines have separate checkin desks for each destination - genius. As the boyf suggested to an airline accounts department recently 'why dont you have a look at how BA do it - it'll give you something to aim for.'

Would totes stay here again

I don't want to look like any more of a miserable, sarcastic git than I already do, so, to compliment the list of crap hotels, here are some of the best I've stayed in:

Traders Hotel, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia: The most awesome hotel. Ever. You want a teksi? There is a ready supply waiting outside (and they'll give you a Traders card with the address of the hotel, a small map to show the cabbie on the way home where you're going and the number of the taxi you got in - just in case you leave anything behind). You want to iron your shirt at 2am ready for the next morning? The iron and ironing board are waiting for you in the room (you dont have to call down to the night monkey at reception). You don't want to be woken up at 9am with new towels and some lady trying to make the bed with you in it? Just put the 'Do Not Disturb' buzzer on and no-one can ring on your bell, let alone come in the door (if you want them to clean the room later just dial 3 and they'll send someone up).
Everything in this place works exactly like its supposed to - they seem to have covered all the basics. Then added a bit more service. And made all their staff greet you with a smile and some polite conversation. Spot on.

Princess Barcelona: So this may be a bit of a cheat as I haven't actually stayed here, but a close friend has and I've seen the pictures and they rock. What's not to like about a room with a glass fronted bathroom  and an electric shutter than comes down to hide your modesty. Se - e - xy.

Unitas Hotel: Four star convent-cum-czech secret police prison - some world-class hotel booking if I do say so myself. Polite staff? Yes. Modern overhaul? Splendid. Very reasonable price? Of course. Right in the centre of town? Mais oui. Violent history? Do tell. DVD players in every room, and a DVD library in reception? Really? Thats a marvellous idea. Hair conditioner in the bathroom? Holy crap - that never happens - if I forget my conditioner I have to walk around with hair like straw. Two little bottles of spirits and a birthday card on arrival? What a lovely touch. Did you tip them? Of course not - I'm not made of money.

Radission, Orlando: With a spectacular view of a multi-lane carriageway and a discount gift shop in the car park I had that scary, sicky feeling of dread when we pulled up in the car park. Receptionist was mental - engaged us in a conversation about how small and disorganised the roads are in Orland (?!) but, the room was a good choice. Two massive beds with a new-fangled device that allows each bed-buddy to determine the softness of their part of the mattress. A microwave and fridge. A little seperate lounge area. An ipod dock alarm clock. Free wifi. Massive tv. 10 minute walk to any fast food you could imagine. Free cookies in the lobby. It didn't really need the free chick-lit novel that appeared outside everyone's door one morning, or the takeaway leaflets posted under the door thrice daily, but they were just added extras that made this place all the more entertaining. Hilton it was not, but it felt all big and squadgy and with a big ol' dollop of jetlag on our brain pudding it was just what we needed.

Wank-stained shit-holes. Enjoy.

In the spirit of sharing my work-related travel experiences I've compiled a list of the worst hotels I've ever stayed in.

Barcelo, Buxton, UK: A delightful combination of someone else's hair on the bathroom wall and a used condom wrapper on my floor made for a grown up game of  'floor is hot lava' where I carefully avoided touching anything in the extremities of the room lest I catch some sort of venereal disease. As my eloquent sibling asserted - "Imagine how much spunk was in the bed". Like I need reminding.

Buchanan Hotel, Glasgow, UK: The scariest night of my life. They put a young female in the skankiest room with a door that looked like it had been broken into on more than one occasion and a roof hatch (I wasnt even on the top floor!!! That hatch must have gone through to another room!!) Slept in my clothes in case I had to fend off one of the drunks outside my door if they managed to break into my room during the night.

Impiana Casuarina, Ipoh, Malaysia: HAH! Just seen the website - doesn't look anything like the place I stayed in! Unless its been thoroughly revamped in the last year its still the depressing, dark and sparse poop-sack that was way past its hey-day. Maybe, after the Traders hotel in KL I was always going to be disappointed, but it was a depressing night that was spent there. The boyf didn't want to stay in the hotel hile I went to work - even a long lie-in and some hard-core tv-time wasn't appealing.

Ibis, Valladolid, Spain: you get what you pay for. And we clearly paid pitance and then shat in the

man's hand as he handed us the receipt. That's not really fair - its ok for an ibis, but its in the middle of nowhere and somehow manages to look shabby, even though it was only built a few years ago. The views you can enjoy are either of a HUGE fuck-off motorway, or a haulage yard. In the fog (did I mention its the only part of Spain permanently shrouded in fog?). Very sweet staff who humoured me (don't know how I appear when I'm on my travels, but I always feel like people are humouring me?), and probably fine if you've got a car/meetings out of town/a desire for lorry drivers to watch you get ready in the morning.

Value Hotel, Singapore: I add this begrudingly - I thought it was fine in an expensive city/state/whatever, but my team bleated at me for nearly a whole day, so maybe I'm just too laid back. The rooms were tiny, with noodle-thin walls (thats not racist, its just true), and there was no wardrobe, unless you were lucky enough to have a thin cupboard under the tv that could fit 2 small t-shirts from Muji and thats it. BUT, it did have broadband in all rooms, a big tv, a big double bed and was within a short bus ride of the city centre. The thing that really got 'em wingeing was the shower-cum-toilet. I actually laughed when I realised that I could handle my bathroom biz and have a shower at the same time! There's wet rooms, and then there are toilet cubicles with a shower head in them. This was the latter. I LMAO-ed. Especially when my Malaysian colleague said "you're in Asia now, we don't waste time". No time to spare, not even for a poo. 

Swiss Garden, Malaysia: 'Spa hotel'? Maybe when it was first built in the late 70s. If you squint it

actually looks really nice, and a bit exotic, but then your vision clears and you realise that you are in the middle of a sad memory of past glory. Free flip-flops do not make up for the fact that the receptionist undercharged me as I checked out and then tried to fix the problem by charging my colleague for their mistake as he checked out! I ended up having to return to the hotel and settle up with them Lots of 'Sorry m'am' but I was not impressed.