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.