Travellers – what type are you?

Airports are brilliant spots for people watching – which lets face it, everyone loves. Well, I love it, and from time to time I have the luxury of undertaking it solo – without having to worry where three other family members are at any given moment, giving me the time to properly evaluate my fellow travellers and their ‘type’.

People watching is also a great sport if you are ever slightly, just a tiny bit judgmental and love to type people who you have never met and are most likely never going to based on what they look like, what they are wearing, carrying, doing or smell like. Obviously the total opposite of what I am like in real life…..

If you are lucky enough to have lived in other countries, or travel quite frequently, it can add an extra layer to the already pre-defined view you may have of a general population of citizens – something I mentioned when I wrote about the Inevitabilities of International Travel - a while ago.

Last week I returned from a relatively self indulgent ten day, three continent tour of birthday parties.  The first was my brother’s 40th held in Sydney – but he (and a surprisingly increasing number of my family on both sides live in the Bris-Vegas, Gold Coast area) so after a weekend in Sydney, I flew up that way to inspect their new abodes. Three days later to return via a 6am flight to the International terminal in Sydney to jet off to HK for a long weekend to celebrate what was labeled the ‘Festival of Lynette’ for another fabulous friend’s 40th. This leg of the trip was justified to the husband by way of – traveling on Frequent Flyer points which were about to expire anyway and going Cathay so a weekend in Hong Kong  just made perfect sense.

Anyway – the point is, with those flights plus my Durban – Joburg legs both ways I took eight flights in ten days and spent a lot of time in airports and on planes conducting the sport of ‘people watching’.

Despite my husband and I having enough combined points for me to have flown business class, I was in economy – which I suppose I should thank him for because it is by far the superior people watching arena.  Those in business class glide from the airline lounges onto the plane (via the short queue) and then disappear into their pods never to be seen again. In the cattle class waiting area and down the back on the plane is where all the action is.

What we all dream about when we get into the plane an empty economy section -but there's always 'the other travellers'

Here are some of my most spotted types on the trip

- the happy traveller, who knew but they really do exist, smiley and courteous at all points

- the grump – usually contented with looking unhappy but can also turn to their neighbour and unload their reason for unhappiness (which may or may not include a life story – but will definitely include commentary about why they didn’t get their preferred seating on the flight)

- the tracksuit wearing traveller

- the couple who are dressed to match (these can overlap with the tracksuit wearers, see above)

- the Family, which of course has extensive sub groups. Can be with one or two parents, the special sub type will depend on number of and age of children and if they have the dad that pops them all in their seats and then glides off to his business class pod never to be seen again until disembarking when he will have been first in the immigration line and gone ahead to ‘collect the baggage’. Special shout out here to the first time travelling family, an easy spot.

- the fashion conscious traveller, the one who boards looking perfect, has a perfect change of clothes for flight and then can somehow layer themselves again at the end of the flight to depart looking a million dollars

- the long distance, many flights, lack of access to shower facilities travellers

- the stressed traveller, always worrying about where their passports are, how do they complete question 4 iv) e on the immigration card, whether they will catch or miss  their connecting flight etc etc etc

- the relaxed traveller (quite an overlap with the happy traveller)

- the full make up traveller – no idea how its done, usually crosses over with the fashion conscious traveller, both types being a total mystery to me

- the person or people you saw at check-in and hoped you weren’t going to be seated near – who are in fact in your row if not immediately beside you

- the tour group traveller (a personal fave) wearing stickers and following flags

- experienced traveller, has made all the necessary pre-flight arrangements, looks quiet and comfortable, always drinking water

- the know-it-all (or the experienced traveller with irritating personality) gleefully sharing extensive knowledge across the tarmac and the plane

- the late arriver – you know the ones that turn up after the announcement ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we are sorry for the delay – we are just waiting for a couple of passengers to arrive’ and then they do.

and last (but by no means least)

- the sleeper! Anywhere, anytime, any seat – eyes shut, dozes off immediately.

Of course there are many many more – what’s your favourite one here or which are the best ones I have missed?

It’s only a game……..

Are you from a ‘sporting nation’? Do you and or your countrymen go nuts seasonally for certain sports? Is every four years when the Olympics comes around a medal tallying affair? Do you have national teams that regularly win ‘World Cups’ in your acknowledged strongest sports? Are there grown men (and women) crying in the streets if and when your teams are knocked out?

If you answered yes and your chosen national sports of interest include cricket, rugby, netball and hockey – and you are from the Southern Hemisphere there is a good chance you are Australian, South African or a Kiwi (from New Zealand).

If you are from one of these countries and happen to be in the ‘sports mad’ group (strangely not everyone is) it is likely you were bought up to barrack for a) your home country and b) whoever is playing the other two.

As I am Australian and programmed from an early age, after all I did live there for the first thirty two years of my life – that means I support Australia and anyone playing South Africa or New Zealand (and England, am thinking its our historical link). In my sojourn here in South Africa I haven’t found it much different.

A small difference is that in Australia people tend to choose a sport or two as their area of ‘special interest’ rather than follow every one equally.  There are four codes of ‘ball’ sports in Aus with followings so not everyone is the rugby nut that I have become, daughter of a rugby coach it was a bit tricky not to catch the bug at some stage. Others follow Soccer, rugby league (never to be called rugby or confused with it) and that sport we ourselves invented Australian Rules (not sure what the Irish have to say on that one).

Thats where the problem of being an Aussie in South Africa has come in over the last few weeks. All South Africans follow rugby, passionately. If I had $1 for every time I have heard on the radio or read in print media in the just over two years I have been here ‘Reigning World Champions – the Springboks’ (the name of their cherished national rugby team) I would honestly be a gazillionaire. Every time I heard it – I would roll my eyes and think I can’t wait for the next bloody world cup so they can’t say that anymore, well programmed Aussie that I am.

Now it is here, the next world cup and as of today Australia and South Africa are no longer participants in the greatest rugby show on earth – South Africa knocked out by Australia last week  and today New Zealand put our hopes and dreams to bed for another four years. The three great Southern hemisphere rivals all ended up on the same side of the draw and knocked each other out before the final.

It should be that simple – you would think, but it’s not. Last week the Springboks were beaten by Australia in a very close game (points wise) – one that my husband and I watched bunkered down in our own living room, declining invitations to watch with the locals, too much at stake too nervous of the outcome.

At the conclusion of that game, which generated much excitement and screaming in our house – you couldn’t see a twitter stream or South African facebook comment that didn’t accuse the Referee (known as ‘the ref’) of cheating, apparently in conjunction with one particular Aussie player. It was brutal and relentless, someone texted my husband and suggested he travel to work the next day with a security detail – of course it was a joke, kind of.

This week has honestly been hell for South Africans and for lone Aussies like us living here. I thought I might enjoy it – but I haven’t really. From Twitter and Facebook to everyman, every radio station, every newspaper, every South African beside themselves about the referee and the ‘cheating Aussies’.

A man in a furniture shop this week heard my accent and asked me – didn’t I think the ref should be banned and we should re-play the game? I said no, not really – I was happy with the result – a risky answer given I didn’t know if he was carrying a concealed weapon. We parted friends but it was touch and go there for a while. I use this as an illustration to show I am not above a bit of banter myself and ribbing the opposition. I am not always entirely blameless in the exchanges.

I am now resigned to another week of ‘you deserved that cheating Aussies’, ‘we could have beaten the Kiwis if we had played them’ & ‘that’s how to ref a game Bryce’ – much along the same lines of twitter and facebook today. Luckily I have a mid-week escape plan in the form of a trip to Aus for my brother’s birthday. It can be exhausting living in a country when you and your countrymen seem like public enemy number one. As my American expat friends point out – they enjoy living here because South Africans in general like them (Americans) more than they like us (Aussies) , a global anomaly in most people’s books.

By the time I return things hopefully will have calmed down and we can all go back to our ‘friendly rivalry’.  After all – it’s only a game.

Who finds five star game lodges exhausting?

It brings to mind the old ‘different strokes for different folks’ and ‘Wouldn’t the world be boring if we all liked the same thing?’ comments that you throw out there from time to time to explain people’s differences of opinion and point of view but I do have to share a recent story that still has me shaking my head just a little.

My fabulous friend Gen (aka the OAC) and I had just climbed a big mountain (you may have heard of Kilimanjaro – the highest peak in Africa) and so before she headed back to Hong Kong and big city life I decided to take her someplace where she could see a real life giraffe (her African wish) rather than just craning through the plane window asking hopefully ‘ Do you think if I look really hard I can see one from here?’

So as a treat after our grueling climb and seven days with no shower, we booked ourselves into a swanky lodge in the Madikwe Game Reserve – all prepared after our flights back from Kili and a night in Joburg, to pick up a car, snack up at Woolies and head of on a girls road trip and luxury weekend.

As we were checking out of our Kili hostel hotel I was checking my email for final confirmations of the coming weekend and received the following message – ‘We apologise but the lodge you have booked has been fire damaged and are unable to accommodate you.’
‘Oh no’ I screamed causing all manner of passers-by to look   ‘Our game lodge has burnt down’ – not exactly what the email said but much better for dramatic effect!
As I returned to read the rest of the email – it did say we had been able to be accommodated elsewhere and our weekend would still be going ahead. Thank goodness for that.

About 36 hours later we were at the fabulous Jacis Tree Lodge, I had never been to our originally booked place but fair to say we were pretty happy with the substitute and had seen a giraffe driving from the gate to the lodge so already mission accomplished!

The 'conversation encouraging' area

Its a lovely lodge with all eight rooms on stilts above the ground below giving you the feeling of being in the trees, great staff, great service, great food, so relaxing and tranquil. There were two ladies doing a review to add the lodge to their corporate accommodation, two couples on wedding anniversary trips, two couples from an overseas location and us. Everyone was very friendly, encouraged by the game viewing and table arrangements and the well stocked bar so we ended up chatting with everyone over the course of the weekend.

The two couples from an unnamed overseas country – but lets just say one associated with the term ‘Whinging (something)’ seemed to be having a lovely time and were there for five nights. I wish! When we asked them though how they were enjoying it was when our brow furrowing began.

The 'rustic' bathroom - may have been a reference to an outside shower but I was always told that people from that country preferred baths

‘Oh, its so busy and exhausting. I really don’t enjoy it.’ Said one of ‘the wives’, ‘I am just not cut out for rustic. I can’t wait to get to Cape Town to relax and have a proper bathroom.’ For those wondering about the rustic bathroom see photo!?!?

‘Busy and exhausting day’ as follows – 6.30am for coffee and croissants and a three hour game drive where you may run into a pack of wild dogs with puppies, some rhinos, passing elephants and giraffes and then stumbled upon a lioness and her new cubs and back for a full brunch, before either resting or setting selves up in the hide (where there is in fact a four poster bed) to see a herd of around 50 elephants splashing about while waiting for high tea at 3pm and then another game drive repeat similar version of morning – but include sundowners en route. Back for more pre-dinner drinks and then dinner as pre-agreed and consulted by chef – sit around a fire, bed by 10pm.  (None of the game drives are compulsory – in fact both of the wedding anniversary couples missed the morning drives for the optional sleep in)

I’m sorry – I just can’t see exhausting here anywhere. Then again I had just climbed a mountain. What about you?

ps – we had a great time and thought it very relaxing and enjoyable

We decided to push through the 'exhaustion' and ignore the 'rustic' and enjoy!

I climbed a mountain – a rather big one

In case you weren’t following in minute detail my fabulous adventure on my other blog (impossible to imagine I know) – you can read about how we did it and see further photographic proof by simply clicking the magic links!

7.30am Tuesday September 13th 2011 - Summit!

Bash the what? (& no mun no fun)

Just when I think I am beginning to understand how things work here in Africa something comes along and confuses me.

For instance today when I went to the ‘hole in the wall’ to get money out to pay for those Kettlebell from hell classes the machine said to me

Request denied Error 68

The last time I had a denied request like that it was because someone had been draining our bank account after cloning my card when I used it at Joburg airport and my heart sank that the thought of going through that process again. I remembered the drama, the police reports, the bank reports, the six trips back and forward between the two because no one could tell me which forms to fill out when and where. So I thought – I’ll just check the balance because it’s probably happened again. Only I couldn’t check the balance, at the machine or online, because all access to our bank account had been cut off.

Surely this has nothing to do with our recently applied for visas I thought?!? After all we had been back and forth with the immigration consultant and the bank several times on what we needed to do and provide to ensure while our visas were being processed our accounts weren’t frozen. We had supplied all the paperwork and documents they had asked for.

But no harm in a quick phone call to check with our ‘private banker’ (fancy schmancy title for not a lot I can tell you) who had promised to monitor our accounts daily until our visas were approved to ensure no problems. Hmmm looks like she forgot about that today – Um, Um, I’ll just check and get back to you.

Ten minutes later as I am standing in a shopping mall, ready to shop – Ahhh, yes – that’s correct, the paperwork is apparently not what we need…..

Cue suppressed swearing and shouting from me – and calmly asking what is it we could do to lift this ban on our accounts.

Hmm – not sure yet so will have to get back to you on that.

Cue less suppressed tonal changes and anxious and louder than usual ‘discussion’ tone to voice my displeasure on the subject.

Then I went shopping.

The issue remains tonight unresolved, so I am very glad we had already paid our electricity bill for the month so I have my venting devices on hand – fully charged, as I await my husband to return home from a work dinner that I imagine someone else will be paying for.

What all this means is I still don’t understand how many things in this country work – so I wanted to put the question to South Africans here and away, other nationalities near and far and ask this.

Did anyone else grow up – in any country – where this was part of your school ‘Fun Days’ or local carnivals, as it was part of my children’s recent School Fun Day?

Bash the Skadonk?!?

Did you do this as a child? Is R10 an expensive bash?The 'Skadonk'

In my best Pauline Hanson voice (you have to be Australian to get that) PLEASE EXPLAIN?

I am only sorry (or not) that I don’t have the third photo in the series which was a five year old boy with a baseball bat having proudly handed over this ten rand for his turn to bash.

At the time I was confused – but the more I think about my bank experiences today, the more I understand.

The 'Skadonk'