for the love of dogs, travel and plant – based food…
My 15 year-old son Rob took his camera, his bike and his friend to the beach today: these are the images I found in the camera…
Yes I am a proud Mum, but I think his images are brilliant. And because of the ‘ripples’ he captured within his images, I felt they were fitting for Ailsa’s travel theme this week.
Here is how the dictionary defines Karma: the sum of a person’s actions in this and previous states of existence: viewed as deciding their fate in future existences…
With that being said, it’s important to remember how our behaviour could come back and bite hard in our ‘future existence’.
For one gentleman who had hoped to spend some time in NYC recently, karma certainly bared its teeth and took a big chunk out of his plans and probably his pride.
A friend who was operating on his flight said the gentleman (loosely termed: cough, splutter) in question boarded and proceeded to complain. The food wasn’t hot enough the drinks weren’t cold enough, the service wasn’t good enough the cabin temperature wasn’t right, ah the list went on and on.
Apparently no amount of kindness, service or helpful advice seemed to appease this bothersome man.
So in the end the crew let him rant to his heart’s content, as after all, on arrival in New York they would politely say goodbye, retreat to their 5-star hotel in downtown NYC, and never set eyes on him again.
But they were wrong. They did see him again and this time they were quite pleased to see him doing what he obviously thought he did best: complain!
And his complaint?
Just two little words the steel-faced customs agent had swiftly slapped onto the gentleman’s passport. And those words?
‘Entry denied’.
p.s. Thanks (RB) a very special and very lovely friend who told me this tale. 🙂
It’s a jungle out there. Honestly, it’s nasty and it has left me with a rather bitter taste.
Whatever happened to good, old fashioned honesty and a frank, yet friendly chat with a prospective employer?
Those days are gone. In their place, it’s all about how best you can perform, and I say that tongue in cheek. For it seems that in today’s job hunting jungle you have to bare your teeth, be prepared for a cold and vicious kill (of your opponents) and create a persona that defies who you really are.
As a freelance journalist who has an interest in what’s going on in the world, I decided to put it to the test. So I applied for a position, wrote a resume that highlighted my experience and landed an interview.
Off I went feeling quite good as the position on offer was something I could confidently perform and one in which I had experience.
I arrived 15 minutes early, donned in professional attire and waited patiently to be collected. As I waited, a number of other candidates of various ages joined me. What I noticed was that some of the candidates had chosen to dress somewhat differently to what I deemed appropriate. Forgive me, but I’m of the opinion that when attending an interview, clean hair, unscuffed shoes, and ladder free stockings are the order of the day, not to mention any visible piercings relating to the nose and or face, should be removed.
Not so.
As I surveyed my ‘competition’ I felt I would at least stand a chance considering my experience, (did I mention that already?) and my well presented appearance.
How wrong I was, for after three hours of being subjected to video footage of booze infested party’s and over zealous employees giving endless and dare I say, boring anecdotes of their ‘experiences’, I and and a few other well presented hopefuls were politely told that we did not make the cut. For a moment I thought it might have been another of their little jokes, simply adding to the others they had shared throughout the morning. No, we had definitely been given our marching orders.
So as I sat and watched the ‘successfuls’ stroll past in their scuffed shoes, pierced noses and bare legs, something occurred to me. I had not shared a single word, hello, how ya’ doin’ or even a little ‘tell me about yourself’ with a single member of the selection panel. Instead I had played a survivor in a plane accident, been asked to sell my wares (or the company in question’s wares) and filled out a form saying what city I was in, if standing next to the Louvre.
Yep, it’s a jungle out there: well it would be if I could only get the opportunity to let somebody here my roar. Or at least a little rant.
Ah c’est la vie. Onto the next chapter…
I found out something interesting after picking up my son from a day of bodyboarding. Hitchhiking is possible when out catching a few waves. I kid you not.
This little piece of interesting information came to light when I collected my son from a different beach from the one I had dropped him off at earlier in the day.
So I learnt hitchhiking is not only confined to our roadways, obviously it is also common practice in the surf!
When settling into your seat to watch the flight attendant deliver the safety demonstration, have you ever thought about what life is like for that flight attendant?
Maybe you haven’t. Or then again, maybe you have. And if so you may have thought how they must truly travel in one of life’s fast lanes. Paris one week, Rome the next. Lazing on a Thai beach before curling up in fresh, crisp sheets on a king size bed in a 5 star hotel. Sounds like a dream right?
From someone who travelled in that lane for close to 25 years, it was life in the fast lane, or as we sometimes said, ‘we live the life of a millionaire, without spending any money – pretty much flying in a nutshell. Well the good bits anyway.
I enjoyed lagers in London, parties in Paris and slings in Singapore. And aside from enjoying the wonderful perks of a high flying job, being a flight attendant was also exciting, rewarding and at times, very humbling.
Sipping caprioskas whilst watching a Roman sunset is exciting. Watching snowflakes float amidst the skyscrapers of New York, before claiming the soil of Ground Zero as their final resting place, as did some 2000 souls on 9/11, is humbling. And seeing a child totally enthralled by the fact that you, the flight attendant have captured clouds in a teapot, is rewarding. (Dry ice + water = instant clouds).
But being a flight attendant can also be very comical.
For instance, try telling an Indian man that the sanitary napkin you gave to the woman sitting next to him was something he really didn’t need? My words were to no avail as his reply, with a swift roll of his head went a little like this. ‘No, I’ll be thinking you’ll be not understanding me madam, I’ll be saying that I’ll be wanting what she is having’ as his head again rolled from side to side. I repeated my words, but they were in vain for he seemed relentless in his pursuit, so in the end I gave up and gave him his much needed package, and as I passed it over I wondered just what he would do with the contents. On my next walk through the cabin, my question was answered. There he was, sitting ever so proudly, with a very large, very white sanitary napkin firmly placed across his eyes! He had peeled off the adhesive label and quite obviously decided that this strange white object was the latest design in airline eye masks. At that moment, between holding back fits of laughter, I was so thankful that he didn’t discover the little white numbers that were housed in the same package and decide to use them as ‘earplugs’.
Flying truly was a beautiful blend of the good, the bad and the downright ridiculous. And for those of you who have aspirations to try life in that fast lane, I strongly encourage it.
I lived in that lane for many years, and loved it. Then I began to question which lane was really the more important one to travel in, fast or family?
So now instead of sipping cappuccinos in Rome, seeing rhinos in the wilds of Africa and waking to the sounds of street hawkers in Singapore, I now wake to the sounds of my beautiful children starting the day and my beloved dogs panting excitedly and the prospect of going for their daily walk.
Yes, I was hostie and I lived in the fast lane and loved it.
Finding that quiet moment to escape the rigours of daily life. Or too many afternoon vinos.
Bliss.
Sometimes tough decisions need to be made. 
We weigh up what is really important and ask ourselves questions that require us to delve deep within.
What was I doing?
Why was I doing it?
And what purpose was it serving.
No purpose at all.
So I made a decision.
I am now following me.
Happily.
My son Max was studying in his room, the afternoon light filtered through his blinds casting strips of light across his hands.
My presence was not noticed, he was too engrossed in his music and study.
On seeing the Wild Weekly Challenge was B&W, I immediately thought of that afternoon when I captured my beautiful son in a quiet, contented moment.
I’m participating in the onlineadventure travel and photography magazine LetsBeWild.com’s Wild Weekly Photo Challenge for bloggersThis week’s Challenge is: Black and White!
Mountains: majestic, silent, protective and playful. I love them, their silent presence instils a sense of calm and I feel safe when bathed in their company.
For Ailsa’s theme this week I chose a collection of mountains that adorn the French and Austrian landscape. Their beauty a spectacular backdrop to my travels there with my 14 year-old son, Rob.
There is something to be said for a beautiful day when the sun is shining and a gentle breeze whispers through the trees.
And there is something to be said for the love a mother feels for her children.
Life is really quite simple…
stanley & bear 