Checking Out China: Shanghai

I visited Shanghai in October 2010. Unfortunately, I haven’t had any other trips to Shanghai (or China for that matter) since. China is everything you think it is when you see it on TV – the streets are overcrowded and littered, but it’s also covered in beautiful pagodas and architecture. We paid a visit to one of the popular tourist gardens and spent the rest of the day shopping. Shanghai is known among the crew as a top shopping destination, mostly for imitations, but other than that you can find other products on the cheap (just don’t always count on the quality). Some crew like to decorate their homes with goodies from Shanghai layovers.

 

Getting around wasn’t too difficult – although many people in Shanghai don’t speak English. And it seems the more crowded a city is, the worse the drivers are. I could have bet that that would have been my last trip in a car, ever.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember for the life of me the name of the garden we visited. (edit: Thanks to my friend Kenken, it is the Yuyuan Garden). It was peaceful and beautiful, with lots of koi (I love koi!) and typical Chinese statues and buildings.

Boba break!

Jolling in Jo’burg

If you couldn’t tell by now, I have a thing for alliteration. And if you’re a Facebook friend who’s followed the links from my page, you’ll see I just lifted these titles from my existing albums. And if you’re not, well then, I hope I have charmed you with my witty titles! And (and yes, I know starting sentences with “and” is not proper grammar) FYI, going for a “jol” in South Africa means you are going out for a good time.

Johannesburg, South Africa, was my second ever layover in October 2010. At the time I was dating a guy from Joburg who later went back home, and so I have spent a lot of time there.  I averaged about 3 trips to Joburg a month and also spent a 10 day vacation there as well. I was lucky to have a personal tour guide during my time there, and although things ended in July of 2011, I still have fond memories of good ol’ Joburg.

These apparently you do not want to use as a tourist in the city.

During my 10 day vacation in January 2011, I got to experience Johannesburg more like the locals do. I visited a braai (i.e. barbecue for you non-South Africans) where the game of choice was cricket and in addition to the variety of meats on the grill, homemade pizza was baking in the oven. We checked out local comics at a Cool Runnings, where I was picked on (or more like praised) for being a flight attendant. I barhopped in Greenside on a Saturday night with all the kiddies, and danced in the hottest nightclub in the city (which, to be honest, is much like a mediocre one in Dubai or even back home in Phoenix.. and I honestly can’t remember the name. Fellow crew reading or Joburg locals, it’s located in the shopping center next to the old hotel, Indaba). I even came home with battle scars to prove it – I’d been standing around, minding my own business when a busboy with a bag of trash walks by, and a piece of glass jumps out and attacked my leg!

And yes, there is still a nasty scar left today.

Unfortunately, because we’d all been drinking, a trip to the hospital would have proved useless, since drunkards are usually waved off to the side. Instead, I got patched up by our friend who’s father is a doctor.. who unfortunately was out of town for the weekend.

I finally made it out to the Lion Park on one of my layovers. We were lucky to be visiting on a Sunday, as it was feeding day.

After witnessing lion lunch time, we took our own scenic drive around the park and inside as well, with some play to play with the cubbies.

And of course, it wouldn’t be a proper trip to South Africa without a taste of the local steak. I’ve actually never been a fan of steak, and that could possibly be for the reason that the steak I’ve had was never really that good. I fell in love with steak in Johannesburg at the good ol’ Meat Company, and in fact, Joburg is just about the only place I will eat steak these days.

Layovers in London

I’ve always had a thing for the British, and I can’t explain it. Some people say, “Oh, it’s because you’re American, they all have a thing for the British.” And of course, the Brits will argue that its because they taught us everything we know. I think it might be the Spice Girls that invaded my childhood to blame or maybe it’sjust those sexy accents (everyone sounds intelligent with a British accent!). Maybe it’s that irresistable Prince Harry.. I do have a thing for gingers…

Our airline flies to both London Gatwick and London Heathrow, and we have many flights a day to both locations. Since I’ve been online, I have been to London many times, so this entry will include all layovers there so far. I mentioned on my About page that I’d meant to start this blog when I started the job, so this is all playing catch up.

After about 2 months of training, we newbies are put online – but first we take an observatory trip on each operative aircraft – one on an Airbus and one on a Boeing. These are typically short trip so we can see and feel everything in action. After those two flights, we start as a REAL cabin crew!

My first operation and layover was to London Gatwick in October of 2010. Any U.K. destinations tend to have a reputation of being very busy, and this flight was no exception. I was lucky to have been rostered with my classmate and one of my best friends, Raksha, who happened to be from London (and lived just minutes from Gatwick). Of course the two of us were excited to share this experience together – except that being the most junior on the crew, we were stuck operating doors directly across from each other… we were hoping to have someone senior opposite ourselves in case we needed help.. talk about the blind leading the blind!

Anyway, on the layover, I tagged along with Raksha as her boyfriend came to pick us up from the hotel and surprise her parents at home. It was a touching experience; one I’d never get to have because my airline didn’t fly direct to my home town (the closet was LAX, which is still a 6 hour drive home to Phoenix). After the tears dried up and the short stories were exchanged, I was treated to a local London delicacy – yes, KFC – and I borrowed Raksha’s old bed for a quick nap before we had to split. I met up with my buddy Hollie, a friend I’d made in my game journalist days. We’d first met in Las Vegas while attending CES (Consumer Electronics Show) and again at PAX (Penny Arcade Expo in Portland, OR, USA) so it was exciting to finally meet her on her turf. We caught up over sushi and shared a few drinks at an Irish pub in China Town (go fig, the two phenomena that seem to occur EVERYWHERE in the world.. so why not together?)

 

On my next trip to London, we checked out a bar near the hotel called The Pheasant Bar with some of the crew. It was crew members’ birthday (fellow American) so even though I’m a wimp to the cold, and walking even 10 minutes in the British cold in late November, I braved it to be a team player.

I made it out the next day to meet up with another friend, Ollie, who I’d also met in Las Vegas (AND rhymes with HOLLIE!) for brunch. Strange how random encounters can turn into international friendships. But that’s one of the amazing parts of this job – it makes facebook friends from all around the world a lot more tangible.

The next trip, I decided to play tourist. I joined a few other girls from the crew and we spent far too much money to freeze our asses off atop those lovely double decker tourist buses. And, you know, did the typical tourist thing. Froze our asses off and took pictures of everything.

We hopped off, grabbed some Mickey D’s (because I’m a disgusting American), took some snaps of Big Ben, and then passed through onto Buckingham Palace on the way back to our hotel. It was a windy yet eventful little trip, despite the fact that we had arrived in the late afternoon and tried to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing.

Passport, I can’t quit you.

I actually kind of envy people who don’t have passports in a strange way, especially in the USA where the percentage of citizens who possess one is ridiculously low. I know it’s a strange thing for a globetrotter like me to say, who gets paid to flash that passport all around the world, so why am I saying it?

I knew from a young age I wanted to see the world. It’s not like we traveled a ton as a kid, although my family did take numerous roadtrips and weekend vacays whenever we could. Was it because I was destined to see the world I’d crossed unknowingly as a newborn baby when I’d left my place of birth to my semi-permanent home? (Okay, we actually crossed the Pacific Ocean from the Philippines to the US, but let’s pretend we took the scenic route, ok?) Those people who live in their tiny little worlds in their small towns (or big towns and small minds) suffer from less disappointment when they don’t have desires they can’t obtain. Does this mean I hate my job and regret the jump?

It means that the more of the world I actually see, it’s only even more of it that I crave. It’s a never-satifying appetite I have to discover every inch, crater and shady hole-in-the-wall pub that exists on the planet Earth. We all know, ignorance is bliss. To have never seen Big Ben or walked in the floods of Bangkok, played with a lion cub or fed carrots to a zebra wouldn’t make you more happy if you never knew it existed, right? Each incredible experience I encounter has a double effect – it fills a void inside myself I desperately wanted to fill all my life, yet it creates a new one, because it’s never going to be enough for me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m starting to replace finding love and having a family with exploring the world for the rest of my life; trying to cover every square foot (or meter, depending on where you’re reading this from) of land (and some sea.. I’m a bit wary of the open ocean) until I die.

I’ll do it until I’m tired of walking, running, crying, laughing, and worrying about not getting hit by that suspiciously launched ping pong ball. Since I’ve started traveling for a living, not only am I exploring the world but I’ve been exploring me. And I simply can’t get enough of either of those. It’s my drug; my addiction. I just want it more and more and fucking more and more – I want to overdose on exploration and lie in a hazy daze of culture shock and language barriers.

So about that passport… Passport, you are evil. You’ve opened my eyes to a life that’s completely derailed off track. I could have been content never tasting that authentic Pad Thai in Bangkok or hearing the cathedral bells of the Duomo de Milano if I’d never known it was possible. But it’s too late.. it’s too late now. I’ve taken a hit and I just can’t quit you, Passport. You’ve consumed my entire being and I don’t think I will ever be the same… thank you.

Yes, my addiction includes frivolously chowing down on fatty fast food in front of Buckingham Palace.