I travel a lot. I've flown on most airlines and there's a lot to complain about. I'd have to say RyanAir is my least favourite of them all. But I was recently introduced to AirAsia by my daughter in law and decided to give it a try.
I flew home from the Ubud Writers Festival on Air Asia. I paid extra for a seat with extra leg room. Not the one near the exit row because I'm too old for that. (I got ditched by another airline from those seats because I didn't qualify. The hostie wasn't game to say I was too old but that's what she meant - but that's another story.)
I settled into my aisle seat with the middle and window seat empty. Sweet! But no! At the last minute a woman struggled onboard lugging a computer case, a huge shopping bag and an equally huge handbag which she dumped at her feet. Hah! I thought. They'll soon pounce on her and make her put that lot in the overhead locker.
A pretty little flight attendant, around 12 years old I'd say, leant over me and pointed at the bags. 'You can't leave those on the floor.'
I drew my legs in so she could get past.
'Just put them on the seat.' What? The heavy computer case was plonked next to me getting ready to brain me if we struck any turbulence. It was followed by the shopping bag full of miscellaneous missiles and the handbag, ditto.
Bloody hell! Surely this is against airline regulations? I'm still here to bitch about it so obviously we didn't strike any turbulence.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Ubud Writers' Festival
I've just come back from the Ubud Writers' Festival. It's been running for some years now and, although I've been to Bali a lot of times and lived in Ubud for a couple of years, it was my first time at the Festival.
For me it wasn't cheap. Apart from the fare and accommodation, as an outsider I had to pay the top price for the Festival. I also joined as a Festival friend, thinking it would be worth it.....not sure why but I know now I'd never do that again. It gave me first pick at some of the special events but a lot of them were still selling tickets on the day so clearly that wasn't necessary. We were also invited to meet Janet de Neefe and her husband at a morning tea at their home. This meant missing some interesting sessions of the Festival but I figured it would be worth it. I was curious to see their home and looked forward to meeting them.
After walking to the Honeymoon Guesthouse we were directed to the room above the restaurant, a space I'd been to several times and clearly not their home. We were given a cup of tea and a piece of cake by the staff and then somebody came in and said Janet was in the shower but would be here soon.
We stared at our empty cups, waiting. Janet finally appeared (no sign of the husband) and sat down at a table with a couple of people she knew and chatted to them. The rest of us shuffled our feet for a while and then, realising that was as good as it was going to get, hurried off to try to salvage the rest of the morning.
For me it wasn't cheap. Apart from the fare and accommodation, as an outsider I had to pay the top price for the Festival. I also joined as a Festival friend, thinking it would be worth it.....not sure why but I know now I'd never do that again. It gave me first pick at some of the special events but a lot of them were still selling tickets on the day so clearly that wasn't necessary. We were also invited to meet Janet de Neefe and her husband at a morning tea at their home. This meant missing some interesting sessions of the Festival but I figured it would be worth it. I was curious to see their home and looked forward to meeting them.
After walking to the Honeymoon Guesthouse we were directed to the room above the restaurant, a space I'd been to several times and clearly not their home. We were given a cup of tea and a piece of cake by the staff and then somebody came in and said Janet was in the shower but would be here soon.
We stared at our empty cups, waiting. Janet finally appeared (no sign of the husband) and sat down at a table with a couple of people she knew and chatted to them. The rest of us shuffled our feet for a while and then, realising that was as good as it was going to get, hurried off to try to salvage the rest of the morning.
Why are old people cranky?
This is exciting. Now I can vent to the world in general (that's if anyone ever reads it) instead of taking it out on my family and friends.
Why are old people cranky? I was lying in bed contemplating this the other night - after my usual 3 a.m. trip to the toilet after which I never seem to be able to get back to sleep easily, why is this? Life is full of questions and I no longer have a parent to ask. But to get back to the old and cranky question....the answer came to me. I told my son the next day. The reason old people are cranky is because they've been around long enough to recognise a fuckwit at 20 paces and they just shortcut the whole thing. Go away! I don't need to listen to your stupid comments. I've heard them all before. You're wrong and I don't have the time to waste telling you why.
You ask an employee in the supermarket the whereabouts of an item. Their eyes glaze over. Clearly they don't know but are they going to say that? Of course not! They point vaguely away from where they are. Aisle 12. It's always a long way away. I just know that I'm going to schlep all the way over there and find myself in the dog food aisle when what I'm looking for is soy milk. By the time that happens the employee has safely made his escape and I'm left wandering around looking for somebody else to ask. This makes me cranky. So now I get cranky as soon as I see his eyes glaze over. 'You don't know, do you?' 'If you don't know you should just say so and I could find somebody who does know.' He backs away from me. Warning. Warning. Cranky old fart alert!
Why are old people cranky? I was lying in bed contemplating this the other night - after my usual 3 a.m. trip to the toilet after which I never seem to be able to get back to sleep easily, why is this? Life is full of questions and I no longer have a parent to ask. But to get back to the old and cranky question....the answer came to me. I told my son the next day. The reason old people are cranky is because they've been around long enough to recognise a fuckwit at 20 paces and they just shortcut the whole thing. Go away! I don't need to listen to your stupid comments. I've heard them all before. You're wrong and I don't have the time to waste telling you why.
You ask an employee in the supermarket the whereabouts of an item. Their eyes glaze over. Clearly they don't know but are they going to say that? Of course not! They point vaguely away from where they are. Aisle 12. It's always a long way away. I just know that I'm going to schlep all the way over there and find myself in the dog food aisle when what I'm looking for is soy milk. By the time that happens the employee has safely made his escape and I'm left wandering around looking for somebody else to ask. This makes me cranky. So now I get cranky as soon as I see his eyes glaze over. 'You don't know, do you?' 'If you don't know you should just say so and I could find somebody who does know.' He backs away from me. Warning. Warning. Cranky old fart alert!
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