We’ve been a travelling (Part 4)

We manage to arrive early at the airport.  Rather than wait three hours for our flight we decide to try and get on an earlier departure.  This will depend on our ticket type and whether there are seats available, preferably together.

We line up in the service queue, which by its very description means you have a lengthy wait as service is mostly between difficult to impossible depending on the request.  We wait twenty minutes.  There’s a long queue behind us.  Our request is taken care of quickly and efficiently making it almost seamless, certainly painless.  I’m sure our request was one of the very few easy ones the staff will get.

Today it seems it is our lucky day.  The transfer to an earlier flight is free and there are two seats available together.  All we have to do is alert the pickup driver at our destination we are going to be an hour earlier.  Done.

Checking in bags is usually the bane of the travelers existence.  No matter which airport in whatever country you are departing from the only difference is the length of the queue; from incredibly long with a half hour wait to the head of the line to up to an hour.  Our queue is 15 to 20 minutes.

One assumes this is why intending passengers are asked to go to the airport two hours ahead of their fight.  There are times of the day where the queues are horrendous, and that not only applies to Heathrow.

And if you are late, just panic.

And if your bags are overweight be prepared to have your credit card hammered.  Especially if you’re flying Air France from Venice to Paris.

Now it’s time to relax.  There is an hour before we have to be at the gate so just enough time to get coffee and a donut.

And be horrified at what shops charge for simple items like sandwiches.  I think $10 is very expensive.  But if you’re hungry and forgot to eat before getting to the airport then be prepared to pay more than you usually would for the same fare.

It’s also time to observe our fellow passengers, and there is always one who has a last minute dash for a plane that is just about to leave, passengers with panic stricken looks.  We all know what happens if you miss the flight even as you’re downing that last cocktail in the airline lounge while thinking, yes they’ll hold the flight for me!

Apparently not, these days, because airlines want to keep their ‘on time’ record.

Even so there’s still three more calls for the missing passengers and then nothing.  If they missed the plane there their problems are just beginning.  It’s the same feeling you have when your name is called out before the flight starts loading.  Only once have we been called up and given an upgrade, and once in the US to be told we could take another flight because our flight was overbooked.  Business class was greatly appreciated and was worth the extra hour we had to wait.

The next bottle neck is the scanners and sometimes the queue here is very long and moving slowly because the scanners are set to pick up belts and shoes so people are scattered everywhere getting redressed and putting shoes on.  Today being a weekday the queue is not so bad.

Loading is painless and reasonably organized except when the passengers in high numbered rows try to board by the front door instead of the rear door and clash mid way in the plane.  After they untangle themselves and get to their seats we’re ready to go.

This flight still has the manual safety demonstration which most people ignored but is slightly better than the video demonstration.  Let’s hope we don’t go down over water.  I’ve charted my path to the emergency exit and l have quite a few people before me.  I guess there’s more than one way to be last off the plane.

Sometimes you get to pick who you get to sit next to, especially if you are traveling with your partner which this time I am, but in a three seat arrangement you gave no control over who takes that third seat.  We are lucky this time because it will not become a tight squeeze but unfortunately our fellow traveler has a cold and in a confined space for several hours it could turn out to be a problem.

But, in the end, the flight is smooth, the snacks edible.  Unfortunately there is no liquor service like the full service rival but that might be a good thing.  No air rage on this flight.

Time flies, pardon the pun, and we have arrived.  Even though it took forever for the baggage to be delivered we still got home early.

Until the next time we fly.

We’ve been a travelling (Part 3)

Our airport experiences so far have been all relatively incident free, although from time to time the sight of police or soldiers patrolling with guns can be disconcerting.

We have also experienced the odd problem in London at Heathrow, firstly trying to get help from the designated help staff and then to find the check in desk of an airline apparently no one available knew existed.  They were not very good ‘help’ staff.

The fact we couldn’t find the airline counter left us cursing the travel agent.  It existed in name, we found it in the phone book and on the internet, but …

The phone rang out – ugh!

The internet site could not be used to check in or manage booking on the same day as the flight!  Double ugh!

Until a little footwork found the agents desk and the misunderstanding was sorted out.

By the way, the airline itself was a pleasure to fly on, the staff were very helpful and most of all we arrived just before the airport closed.  It was odd to discover that some airports closed, particularly Florence.  It was the second time we were the last people out, and having to turn off the lights.  And, because I booked the transfer to the hotel myself, he was there waiting for us!

Holiday over, the joys of visiting relatives we hadn’t seen for a long time, and an unusual but wonderful New Year’s Eve and a wedding two days later, only a flight stands between us and getting home.  After days, sometimes weeks, it is that moment we all look forward to; sleeping on our own beds, making our own food and getting to the gym to work off those extra kilos put on by delicious hotel food or local fare where calorie counting is not part of the dining experience.

Of course getting to the airport from the hotel can be an experience in itself whether by taxi, perhaps the taxi driver from hell who knows only two speeds fast and stop and is also unfortunately color blind.  Or whether you have arranged for a transfer only to discover it’s not coming because the company went out of business or you changed hotels and someone forgot to tell them.  Or the travel agent made a mistake or forgot to confirm the booking.  Oh yes, it happens.

We have a hire car and will be returning it t the same place.  Let’s hope the signage at the airport makes it easy to find the rental place.  In London we had a hell of a time trying to find it; good thing we were hours earlier than we should be.  In Chicago the car rental depot was miles from the airport.

And just because the sign says ‘rental returns’ for the lane you’re in it doesn’t necessarily follow it’s the right lane.  Then as you miss the exit, and get stuck on the one way road system, all of a sudden you have left the airport and you’re heading back to the city.  If you’re running late …

But if everything goes to plan we get to the airport with time to spare.

 

To be continued …

We’ve been a travelling (Part 2)

Hotels can also be one of the major let downs of a holiday.  If you are going to use a travel agent to pick a hotel for you, make sure you check as much as you can because no matter how it is described, seeing it in reality is always completely different than the pictures in a brochure and sometimes on the Internet.  It requires research and a good look at TripAdvisor.  Or word of mouth by someone you know and trust who has stayed there.

Take, for instance, staying in a five star hotel the usual stomping ground of the rich and famous, it is always interesting to see how the less privileged fare.  Where hotel staff are supposed to treat each guess equally it is not always the case.  Certainly if you’re flashing money around, the staff will be happy to take it though you may not necessarily get what you’re expecting.

We are lucky to be in the highest loyalty level and this gives us a number of privileges; this time working in our favour but it is not always the case.  Privilege can sometimes count for nothing.  It often depends on the humour of the front desk clerk and woe betide you if you get the receptionist from hell.  Been there, done that, more than once.

Then there is the room.  There is such a wide variety of rooms available even if the hotel site or brochure had representative pictures the odds are you can still get a room that is nothing like you’re expecting, or were promised.  Believe me there are rooms with a view, overlooking pigeon coops or air-conditioning vents.  And if you’re lucky, at Niagara Falls, it might be that six inches of window space that allows a very limited view of the falls.  Still, why should I complain, you can see the Falls can you not?

A bone of contention often can be the location of the hotel and sometimes parking facilities not the least of which is the cost Valet parking; forget it.

We are reasonably near transport, yes, if we could walk the distance (which feels like the length of a marathon) to the nearest bus or tram stop.  The problem is we both have trouble with knees and ankles and walking distances are difficult at the best of times, and for us it is a long, long way when you can’t walk and that’s when the hotel starts to feel like a prison.  Taxis may be cheap but when you have to use them three or four times a day it all adds up.

Also, bee wary when a hotel says it is close to public transport.  While that may be true in London, anywhere else and especially in Europe you could find yourself in the middle of nowhere. It’s when you discover your travel agent didn’t exactly lie but it is why that weekly rate was so cheap.  In the end, the sum of the taxi fares and the accommodation turns out to be dearer that if you stayed at the Savoy.

So airline, hire car and hotel aside those front line experiences are fodder for the travel blogger, these people who are also known as road warriors.

I wondered why until we started travelling and discovered the incredible highs and lows, of flying, yes there are good and bad airlines and the bad are not confined to the low cost, of rental cars and of hotels.  There is a very large gulf between five stars and three and sometimes three can be very generous.  And of course l now have a list of hotels l would never stay in again, the names of which might surprise you.

 

To be continued …

We’ve been a travelling (Part 1)

Travelling is always a good source of material to add to the writing store.  Writers collect anecdotes, descriptions of their fellow travelers, more the idiosyncrasies than an actual physical description, and of the experience, though it is all the better if it turns out to be really, really bad than good.

This equally applies to experiences in hotels, with hire cars, tourist spots and especially fellow travelers.

Start with the airline.  This can make or break the start of a holiday and could be the difference between a great start or a horrid one.

We can usually accept the sardine arrangements, the lack of leg room, being within ear shot of a screaming baby, or put up with the constant kicking in the back of the seat by the wretched uncontrollable child sitting behind you.

It’s having the person in front fully reclining their seat in your face that gets your goat.  For a hour and a half or eight hours, it is still the biggest bone of contention when flying.

We are taking one airline down to Melbourne the one that makes a big deal out of the full service it provides, and another airline back, formerly a low cost airline but now trying to match its so-called full service rival.

The flight down is smooth and the food reasonably good.  The landing, even though the pilot was battling sharp cross winds, was very heavy and left us in no doubt we had reached terra firma again.  I’ve been on worse.

Hire cars are a rich field to pick over and I’ve read some interesting experiences involving even the best.  So far I’ve not had a problem.  I pre booked as far in advance as possible to get a small fuel efficient vehicle.  Sometimes we are upgraded and while they think they are doing you a favour it is not necessarily the case, especially when you finish up with a large car that barely fits small provincial French roads one lane wide.  It does happen.

There is also the waiting time at the car rental desk, particularly when it’s the rental company you picked, while other company desks are empty.  You also quickly discover that most of the people in the queue didn’t think of pre booking a car, which to my mind is expecting trouble with it being the peak holiday period.

We had to wait in a long queue after taking a chance it would be less crowded at the pickup point than the desk in the airport terminal.  It was no surprise to discover that a lot of other travellers had the same thought.

We get a small, spritely and economic car that is clean, and no sign of being in an end to end freeway crash.  It will do us nicely.

 

To be continued …

The serial continues – Episode 19 just published

Episode 19 of the “Cases of PI Walthenson” is now available

To read it : https://piwalthenson.wordpress.com/

My Website : http://charles-heath.com

My blog : https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/

My First short story – “The Price of Fame” :

https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/2016/01/05/a-short-story/

A chapter from the soon to be published “One Last Look” :

https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/2016/01/08/a-chapter-from-the-forthcoming-book-one-last-look/

 

Enjoy

PS Don’t forget to comment if you wish, make a suggestion, join in the conversation

The serial continues – Episode 18 just published

How thrilled Harry Walthenson, Private Detective, had been to see his name painted on the translucent glass window in the door to his office.  Located in Gramercy Park, in an old building full of atmosphere, he had a space renovated to resemble that of Spade and Archer in a scene right out of the Maltese Falcon.  His desk had an antique phone like those used in the 1930’s, and a lamp that cast eerie shadows at night.  Along one wall was a couch, his bed for more nights than he wanted to remember, and on the other a filing cabinet, waiting for the big case files.

Up till now it had been missing cats and dogs.  Then, everything changed…

Episode 18 is now available

To read the latest episode: https://piwalthenson.wordpress.com/

My Website : http://charles-heath.com

My blog : https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/

Enjoy

PS  Please leave a comment, make a suggestion, or join in the conversation

Retooling the start

The process of writing is rewriting editing and more rewriting.

The other day l wrote some words.  I didn’t like them.  But it had laid the groundwork for a second draft.

Here it is:

 

Growing up I did not believe l had one of those lovable faces.

My brother, known in school as the best looking boy of his graduating class, said it was a face only a mother could love.

He was mean.

Simone, a girl who was a friend, not a girlfriend, said my face had character.

She was charming and polite.

Looking now, in the mirror, l decided I’d aged gracefully.

I could truthfully say my brother had not, but that was as far as the comparison went.

My over achieving brother was the epitome of success in business, a veritable god zillionaire.  Everything he touched turned to gold.

My ultra successful sister, Penelope, had married into the right family perhaps by chance, but she was also a very learned scholar whose life was divided between her chair and the university and her social life with the rich and famous.

Then there was me.

I gave up on my chance at university because l was not the scholarly sort and didn’t last long.  Sadly l was the first of my family to be sent down from Oxford.

Instead l took on a series of professions such as seasonal laborer, farm hand, factory worker, and lastly, night watchman.  At least now I had a uniform and looked like I’d made something of myself.

It would not be enough for my parents who every year didn’t say it out loud but the disappointment was always there in their expressions.

My brother in his usual blunt manner said l was a loser and would never change.

My sister was not quite so blunt.  She simply said it was disappointing so much potential was going to waste.  I only asked her once what she meant and lost me after the first four syllable word.

Finally I’d taken their comments to heart and decided l would not be going home to the family Christmas holiday reunion.

I told my boss l was available to work the night shift over the holidays, the shift no one else wanted.

It was he said a time for reflection.  He hated his family as much as I did so we would be able to lament our bad luck though the long cold hours from dusk till dawn.

It was 3 a.m. and it was like standing on the exact epicenter of the North Pole.  I’d just stepped from the warehouse into the car park.

The car was covered in snow.  The weather was clear now, but more snow was coming.

It was going to be a white Christmas, all I needed.  I hoped I remembered to put the anti freeze in my radiator this time.

As I approached my car, the light went on in a SUV parked next to my car.  The door opened and what looked to be a woman was climbing down from the driver’s seat.

She closed the door and leaned against the side of the car.  “Graham?”

It was a voice I was familiar with, though I hadn’t heard it for a long time, my ultra successful sister, Penelope.  From what I could see, she didn’t look too well.

“What do you want?”

“Help.”

My help, I was the last person to help her, or anyone for that matter.  But curiosity got the better of me.  “Why?”

“Because my husband is trying to kill me.”

The instant the last word left her lips I saw her jerk backwards into the car, and then start sliding down to the ground.  There was no mistaking the red streak following her as she fell.

She’d been shot from what could be a sniper rifle, which meant …

 

It still needs work but I’ve got the gist of where I want to go.

The idea is not to make a character so loathsome no one would want to read about him.

This will evolve and you can if you like come along for the ride!

 

The Serial Continues – Episode 15 just published

How thrilled Harry Walthenson, Private Detective, had been to see his name painted on the translucent glass window in the door to his office.  Located in Gramercy Park, in an old building full of atmosphere, he had a space renovated to resemble that of Spade and Archer in a scene right out of the Maltese Falcon.  His desk had an antique phone like those used in the 1930’s, and a lamp that cast eerie shadows at night.  Along one wall was a couch, his bed for more nights than he wanted to remember, and on the other a filing cabinet, waiting for the big case files.

Up till now it had been missing cats and dogs.  Then, everything changed…

Episode 15 is now available

To read the latest episode: https://piwalthenson.wordpress.com/

My Website : http://charles-heath.com

My blog : https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/

Enjoy

PS  Please leave a comment, make a suggestion, or join in the conversation

I’m having a bad day

Nothing I write makes any sense, it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t progress the story, they are just words on a piece of paper.

For example:

 

My life was going nowhere.  If I took a step back and took a good, long, hard look at it, what could I say was the one defining moment?

There was no defining moment.

I’d bounced around schools till the day I decided I was not cut out to learn anything more, or perhaps the teachers had given up trying to impart knowledge.  Whatever the reason, I dropped out of college, and drifted.  Seasonal laborer, farm hand, factory worker, night watchman.

At least now I had a uniform and looked like I’d made something of myself.

Until I went home.

My parents were distinctly disappointed I was not married with children.

My overachieving brother always said I was a loser, and would never make anything of myself.

My ultra successful sister, married into a very wealthy family, had the regulation 2.4 children, and lived in the lap of luxury, mostly pretended I didn’t exist, didn’t invite me to the wedding, and I had yet to meet the husband and children.  I guess she was ashamed of me.

This year I was avoiding going home.

This year I volunteered to work the holidays.

 

Yep, time to walk away and do something entirely different, like wrapping Christmas presents, my second favorite job to mowing the lawn.  Maybe if I contrive an accident with the lawn mower …

Back in front of the words, some hours later, an idea pops into my head.  The story continues:

 

It was 3 a.m. and it was like standing on the exact epicenter of the South Pole.  I’d just stepped from the warehouse into the car park.

The car was covered in snow.  The weather was clear now, but more snow was coming.

A white Christmas?  That’s all I needed.  I hoped I remembered to put the anti freeze in my radiator this time.

As I approached my car, the light went on in a SUV parked next to my car.  The door opened and what looked to be a woman was getting out of the car.

“Graham?”

It was a voice I was familiar with, though I hadn’t heard it for a long time.

My ultra successful sister, Penelope.  She was leaning against her car door, and from what I could see, didn’t look too well.

“What do you want?”

“Help.”

My help, I was the last person to help her, or anyone for that matter.  But curiosity got the better of me.  “Why?”

“Because my husband is trying to kill me.”

With that said, she slid down the side of the car, and I could see, in the arc lamps lighting the car park, a trail of blood.

 

Oh well, yet another thriller coming up.

Maybe it’s not such a bad day after all.

The serial continues – Episode 14 just published

How thrilled Harry Walthenson, Private Detective, had been to see his name painted on the translucent glass window in the door to his office.  Located in Gramercy Park, in an old building full of atmosphere, he had a space renovated to resemble that of Spade and Archer in a scene right out of the Maltese Falcon.  His desk had an antique phone like those used in the 1930’s, and a lamp that cast eerie shadows at night.  Along one wall was a couch, his bed for more nights than he wanted to remember, and on the other a filing cabinet, waiting for the big case files.

Up till now it had been missing cats and dogs.  Then, everything changed…

Episode 14 is now available

To read the latest episode: https://piwalthenson.wordpress.com/

My Website : http://charles-heath.com

My blog : https://aloysius5.wordpress.com/

Enjoy

PS  Please leave a comment, make a suggestion, or join in the conversation