Momo.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Another Trip
Leisure trip to Bangkok this time. 8 to 12 Dec.
TG aircraft has not arrived yet; on paper it is supposed to be a B773. Big bird, and hopefully comfortable too. And I just realised Garuda Indonesia has a new livery on its planes.
Air Seychelles has two seagulls (?) painted on each side of its tail. Permanent bird strikes? :)
Let's have some air turbulence!
TG aircraft has not arrived yet; on paper it is supposed to be a B773. Big bird, and hopefully comfortable too. And I just realised Garuda Indonesia has a new livery on its planes.
Air Seychelles has two seagulls (?) painted on each side of its tail. Permanent bird strikes? :)
Let's have some air turbulence!
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Example of an Imperialist Pighead
Given it two days but still could not let it go. Not because I am still angry - I'm not - or I had to vent - I don't. I just wanted to make a record of the day I successfully made good use of my size to jettison some white trash.
Stew Art Bow Ye (name changed to protect the innocent - me) was in the wrong plane seat. I know, since I had seen his boarding pass.
Ye was in the wrong plane seat. And nothing gets me goat more than an unwelcome passenger in a supposedly empty seat. And then it gets worse.
Ye was on his cell phone even after the crew told all passengers to turn off their cell phones and all transmitting equipment. Ye was a self-important, self-absorbed British boor who had no qualms speaking out loud about how people will make things happen if they deem the project important enough. He was sending text messages to no end. Even as the plane was finally taking off - after an hour-and-a-half of delay - he was checking his phone for text messages! Why? Was it so important if a message came in now? What difference would it have made, Ye? Were you simply going to reply to that message?
Ye was a dirty sod - that's the word - who had no qualms putting his lanky feet up against the panel at the plane's bulk head, high up! Never mind if infant bassinets were hung there if there were young'uns on board. Never mind if his moccasins were dirty and marking. Never mind if he had already stained the plastic frame of the 10-inch personal inflight entertainment personal that he had to rub off the stains with his thumbs. (Payback came rapidly as he ate peanuts off those crappy hands and washed them down with Tiger beer.)
While it took me a while to square how the airline actually left empty seats between each block of three seats but yet my block of three were fully occupied but the right hand block only had ONE passenger. Before I had that squared, I tolerated Ye. I shared the almost non-existent arm rest between us, never mind I had a full one on the aisle side.
Epiphany came not long after. His seat printed on the boarding pass is 31K. That meant Ye had not a chance of sitting in seat 31E. Knowing my trump card, I marched up to the galley where the attendants were and asked them if they could evict Ye from the seat not meant for him. I immediately knew they were painted into a corner by my request.
A senior male attendant immediately apologised for not being able to make him move and in a bid to pacify me asked if I could like a seat change. Ha! That rubbed me the wrong way. Why should I change my seat when I was in my rightful seat. I was not asking for a seat change. I was asking for a potential-murderer-in-practice to get out of my "elite uncaring face". Oh wait, it should be "elite concerned face".
So I turned the request on its head and asked to know if the flight manifest listed the seat as taken. If it were - see the use of tenses here - I would share my airspace and arm rest. If it was not, then I know my rights. And I walked back to my seat.
Man, I felt so goddamn righteously aggrieved, if there were this feeling. I did not give two (raised left middle finger) (raised right middle finger) expletive. Actually, knowledge is greatly empowering. And I was either too tired or too sure I was going to win this, I was hardly angry or perturbed. On my way back to my seat, I even joked to a friend seated a handful of rows behind me that I was taking back my flight information region (aka airspace). She asked why I would not change a seat and I replied matter-of-factly; because I did not have to.
I went back and I began with taking back more than half the arm rest. Thereafter, the female attendant whom I first spoke to came, bent over and said, "Mr Tan, that is not his seat." I thanked her.
Thereafter, I (I bet if Ye kept a blog or some social media thingy, he would have called me a Chinese Chauvinistic Pig, emphasis on pig, I believe) began the personal civil war that would have made America proud. Except I'm not American. But you get the drift.
Subtly but forcefully, I regained my airspace. He ceded and retreated, retracted and yielded but how much can you shrink into a cattle class seat when you are more than 6 feet tall? I began taking back my full arm rest and after dinner, I slept and leaned towards the middle seat. He slinked further inwards and I stretched further out. Before I knew it, the seat was empty.
Victory was mine! In the first place, Ye should have simply taken his own seat, or tried his luck taking the aisle seat on his side. Few people would take kindly to having some dope fill up the empty middle seat. I bet Ye's intention was to place his feet on the bulk head board. I think airlines should charge these people who intentionally do that cleaning charges. But that's for the airlines to decide. I just feel sorry for the babies who had to be near those boards.
Now, all these being said, if the flight were full, I would have played by the rules, shared and be nice to allarseholes on the flight who should have taken either the flight before or after.
Two things stand out in this episode:
1. Airlines should retain the right to make passengers return to their assigned seats.
2. Monitoring of use of cellphones and transmitting equipment should either be made obsolete (if deemed unnecessary) or stringently enforced. Why enforce a requirement with mere lip service?
Moral of the story: If you want to play punk, find someone your own size and IQ.
Stew Art Bow Ye (name changed to protect the innocent - me) was in the wrong plane seat. I know, since I had seen his boarding pass.
Ye was in the wrong plane seat. And nothing gets me goat more than an unwelcome passenger in a supposedly empty seat. And then it gets worse.
Ye was on his cell phone even after the crew told all passengers to turn off their cell phones and all transmitting equipment. Ye was a self-important, self-absorbed British boor who had no qualms speaking out loud about how people will make things happen if they deem the project important enough. He was sending text messages to no end. Even as the plane was finally taking off - after an hour-and-a-half of delay - he was checking his phone for text messages! Why? Was it so important if a message came in now? What difference would it have made, Ye? Were you simply going to reply to that message?
Ye was a dirty sod - that's the word - who had no qualms putting his lanky feet up against the panel at the plane's bulk head, high up! Never mind if infant bassinets were hung there if there were young'uns on board. Never mind if his moccasins were dirty and marking. Never mind if he had already stained the plastic frame of the 10-inch personal inflight entertainment personal that he had to rub off the stains with his thumbs. (Payback came rapidly as he ate peanuts off those crappy hands and washed them down with Tiger beer.)
While it took me a while to square how the airline actually left empty seats between each block of three seats but yet my block of three were fully occupied but the right hand block only had ONE passenger. Before I had that squared, I tolerated Ye. I shared the almost non-existent arm rest between us, never mind I had a full one on the aisle side.
Epiphany came not long after. His seat printed on the boarding pass is 31K. That meant Ye had not a chance of sitting in seat 31E. Knowing my trump card, I marched up to the galley where the attendants were and asked them if they could evict Ye from the seat not meant for him. I immediately knew they were painted into a corner by my request.
A senior male attendant immediately apologised for not being able to make him move and in a bid to pacify me asked if I could like a seat change. Ha! That rubbed me the wrong way. Why should I change my seat when I was in my rightful seat. I was not asking for a seat change. I was asking for a potential-murderer-in-practice to get out of my "elite uncaring face". Oh wait, it should be "elite concerned face".
So I turned the request on its head and asked to know if the flight manifest listed the seat as taken. If it were - see the use of tenses here - I would share my airspace and arm rest. If it was not, then I know my rights. And I walked back to my seat.
Man, I felt so goddamn righteously aggrieved, if there were this feeling. I did not give two (raised left middle finger) (raised right middle finger) expletive. Actually, knowledge is greatly empowering. And I was either too tired or too sure I was going to win this, I was hardly angry or perturbed. On my way back to my seat, I even joked to a friend seated a handful of rows behind me that I was taking back my flight information region (aka airspace). She asked why I would not change a seat and I replied matter-of-factly; because I did not have to.
I went back and I began with taking back more than half the arm rest. Thereafter, the female attendant whom I first spoke to came, bent over and said, "Mr Tan, that is not his seat." I thanked her.
Thereafter, I (I bet if Ye kept a blog or some social media thingy, he would have called me a Chinese Chauvinistic Pig, emphasis on pig, I believe) began the personal civil war that would have made America proud. Except I'm not American. But you get the drift.
Subtly but forcefully, I regained my airspace. He ceded and retreated, retracted and yielded but how much can you shrink into a cattle class seat when you are more than 6 feet tall? I began taking back my full arm rest and after dinner, I slept and leaned towards the middle seat. He slinked further inwards and I stretched further out. Before I knew it, the seat was empty.
Victory was mine! In the first place, Ye should have simply taken his own seat, or tried his luck taking the aisle seat on his side. Few people would take kindly to having some dope fill up the empty middle seat. I bet Ye's intention was to place his feet on the bulk head board. I think airlines should charge these people who intentionally do that cleaning charges. But that's for the airlines to decide. I just feel sorry for the babies who had to be near those boards.
Now, all these being said, if the flight were full, I would have played by the rules, shared and be nice to all
Two things stand out in this episode:
1. Airlines should retain the right to make passengers return to their assigned seats.
2. Monitoring of use of cellphones and transmitting equipment should either be made obsolete (if deemed unnecessary) or stringently enforced. Why enforce a requirement with mere lip service?
Moral of the story: If you want to play punk, find someone your own size and IQ.
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
In the malnourished lap of luxury
Ok, call me a bitch but I'm still getting these off my chest.
1. What use is a 60 square meter big room with a 21" old Sony TV, so old that the numbers on the remote have been thumbed off by the long list of occupants before me?
2. What use is having the South China Sea as your wet playground when you have not a single day where the water is clear enough for you to see two inches deep?
3. What use is having multiple buildings in a sprawling 180 hectare compound when the buildings are not properly linked to each other and the forbidding heat and humidity make all effort to travel from point to point nothing less than a sweaty one?
4. What use is a huge central block when your breakfast area is totally cut out from all the rooms? One had to first get to the lobby on Level 5, before descending to Level 3 FROM the lobby area to get to breakfast.
5. What use is having rooms on one side of the building to capitalise on and thereby sell the feature of ocean facing room when the rooms are located at a leg breaking distance from the lobby?
6. What use is having broadband and wireless connection when one has to pay an exorbitant price to use these in an already exorbitantly priced room?
7. What use is a bath tub without shower gel/bath foam?
8. What use is a mini bar fridge that is not cold enough to freeze ice?
9. What use is an elaborate partition to separate the room from the wardrobe other than to make me walk even more in the room and not provide any useful space for me to hang my clothes?
10. What use is laundry service at B$7.70 to wash each long sleeved shirt? Wouldn't that mean that most, if not all, people wouldn't send anything for laundering, thereby negating the raison d'etre of laundry service at the onset?
11. What use is bitching when one does not have any way of getting out of the quagmire because of work?
What use indeed?
1. What use is a 60 square meter big room with a 21" old Sony TV, so old that the numbers on the remote have been thumbed off by the long list of occupants before me?
2. What use is having the South China Sea as your wet playground when you have not a single day where the water is clear enough for you to see two inches deep?
3. What use is having multiple buildings in a sprawling 180 hectare compound when the buildings are not properly linked to each other and the forbidding heat and humidity make all effort to travel from point to point nothing less than a sweaty one?
4. What use is a huge central block when your breakfast area is totally cut out from all the rooms? One had to first get to the lobby on Level 5, before descending to Level 3 FROM the lobby area to get to breakfast.
5. What use is having rooms on one side of the building to capitalise on and thereby sell the feature of ocean facing room when the rooms are located at a leg breaking distance from the lobby?
6. What use is having broadband and wireless connection when one has to pay an exorbitant price to use these in an already exorbitantly priced room?
7. What use is a bath tub without shower gel/bath foam?
8. What use is a mini bar fridge that is not cold enough to freeze ice?
9. What use is an elaborate partition to separate the room from the wardrobe other than to make me walk even more in the room and not provide any useful space for me to hang my clothes?
10. What use is laundry service at B$7.70 to wash each long sleeved shirt? Wouldn't that mean that most, if not all, people wouldn't send anything for laundering, thereby negating the raison d'etre of laundry service at the onset?
11. What use is bitching when one does not have any way of getting out of the quagmire because of work?
What use indeed?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Smooth As Silk
Thai Airways lived up to its promise to its customers that it is "smooth as silk". Let me show you evidence of their great work.
TG Check-in at Changi Airport, Singapore
There is perhaps nothing more appalling than seeing a relief aid mission carting a billion trillion gazillion boxes of medicine and other relief items bound for Dhaka stuck in front of two open check-in counters (out of 7). Instead of deploying staff to clear the passenger check in and luggage check in, Thai chose to do the eye power exercise.
It gets worse. There is an Internet Check In counter, which had literally no queue because 99.99% of the TG customers cannot check in online in Singapore and there is a dedicated Royal Silk Class counter with no one in line, as the flight probably has at most 12 such passengers - the seating maximum on that A333 plane. This knocks two more counters out of commission.
That leaves over 200 check in passengers waiting to be cleared by 3 counter staff. And there are many other passengers trying their luck to get on this "full flight". These people should have been attended to at the ticketing counter, not the check in counter. Yet, the staff persisted, showing their traditional Thai patience - let me check, move off counter to talk with ticketing staff, get back, say something, repeat, and end with, "You need to go to the ticketing counter to check, Sir, and then come back here at 6.50 am to check if you are allowed on this flight.
There was an Indian family that was stuck at one counter for 30 minutes and counting! Then, one of the check in supervisors came out and said, I need you (the passengers) to move! Move to that counter, she told the passengers. As the passengers moved, the queues became evident. She's just moving one queue to another. People were miffed.
I need this counter to be cleared, she declared to the Dhaka staff. Yeah right, without assistance, there was no way a single staff was going to clear the lines fast enough. Can you clear these boxes? She asked the relief mission folks. No, these are for check in!
She got past me and I told her, "Open up the internet check in counter to deal with the queues! And for goodness sake, the Business class girl can take on individual customers!" This way, the Royal Silk (aka Business) class passengers will not have to wait for more than one passenger before s/he/it gets to check in.
The manager was also nowhere to be seen. Oh wait! She appears. The Indian woman seemed only too happy to play the conductor of this messy septet, not wishing to get her hands dirty at all.
All this while, I was standing in queue.
It was indeed smooth as silk. Nothing moved.
TG Baggage Handling at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok
The Service Level Agreement must have been "first bag on belt in 15 minutes" or so. Because that was all the passengers were getting, until a few Jurassic ages later.
Passengers stood rooted to the ground, their eyes darting in rapid movement, hoping to spot their luggage. No one fainted, so the darting of the eyes must have been smooth as silk too.
Damaged Luggage Repair
The hardcase I carried to Bangkok had a rubber tubing that sealed the two halves of the luggage as it shuts. The tubing is held in place in the luggage by its natural tension. However, when my luggage arrived, the rubber tubing was ripped out, not unlike an outie belly button. Damaged. The bag was also stained with a sticky red substance which I am not sure what it really was.
Made a luggage damage report and the agent acting for TG was called to repair the luggage in Bangkok, at my request.
The bag came back and the rubber tubing, which should have been changed, was sneakily super glued to the luggage. I bet my bottom dollar that when I take this bag on an extended flight to a place such as the US, the glue will freeze, crack and take the tubing along with it. Who do I claim against then? Or what if the glue stained my clothes or items in the baggage? What do I do?
The entire transaction was smooth as silk. Almost fly by night, if you ask me. Leave bag at Concierge, luggage guy picks up, leave TG claim report in exchange for repaired luggage at Concierge thereafter.
The entire recovery was smooth as silk. So was the "con" job.
I turn and changed face. TG inflight service
Can't help noticing that the TG stewardesses are young things with nary a line on their face.
But make a request and each and everyone I've seen so far can put the best Sichuan Mask Changing Master to shame.
"Ok, sir." She went.
She looked up and her face turned. That sinister stare, the underlying belligerence, the anger at being made to serve. It wasn't me who asked, but I could not help noticing, since I am typically quite alert during certain odd flights.
If I were to borrow the MasterCard advertisement tagline and amend it later, "Change face - seamless!"
All in all, TG provided a new interpretation of SAS to me. I was a first time customer on their international flight and would I fly them again?
Let me think about it.
TG Check-in at Changi Airport, Singapore
There is perhaps nothing more appalling than seeing a relief aid mission carting a billion trillion gazillion boxes of medicine and other relief items bound for Dhaka stuck in front of two open check-in counters (out of 7). Instead of deploying staff to clear the passenger check in and luggage check in, Thai chose to do the eye power exercise.
It gets worse. There is an Internet Check In counter, which had literally no queue because 99.99% of the TG customers cannot check in online in Singapore and there is a dedicated Royal Silk Class counter with no one in line, as the flight probably has at most 12 such passengers - the seating maximum on that A333 plane. This knocks two more counters out of commission.
That leaves over 200 check in passengers waiting to be cleared by 3 counter staff. And there are many other passengers trying their luck to get on this "full flight". These people should have been attended to at the ticketing counter, not the check in counter. Yet, the staff persisted, showing their traditional Thai patience - let me check, move off counter to talk with ticketing staff, get back, say something, repeat, and end with, "You need to go to the ticketing counter to check, Sir, and then come back here at 6.50 am to check if you are allowed on this flight.
There was an Indian family that was stuck at one counter for 30 minutes and counting! Then, one of the check in supervisors came out and said, I need you (the passengers) to move! Move to that counter, she told the passengers. As the passengers moved, the queues became evident. She's just moving one queue to another. People were miffed.
I need this counter to be cleared, she declared to the Dhaka staff. Yeah right, without assistance, there was no way a single staff was going to clear the lines fast enough. Can you clear these boxes? She asked the relief mission folks. No, these are for check in!
She got past me and I told her, "Open up the internet check in counter to deal with the queues! And for goodness sake, the Business class girl can take on individual customers!" This way, the Royal Silk (aka Business) class passengers will not have to wait for more than one passenger before s/he/it gets to check in.
The manager was also nowhere to be seen. Oh wait! She appears. The Indian woman seemed only too happy to play the conductor of this messy septet, not wishing to get her hands dirty at all.
All this while, I was standing in queue.
It was indeed smooth as silk. Nothing moved.
TG Baggage Handling at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok
The Service Level Agreement must have been "first bag on belt in 15 minutes" or so. Because that was all the passengers were getting, until a few Jurassic ages later.
Passengers stood rooted to the ground, their eyes darting in rapid movement, hoping to spot their luggage. No one fainted, so the darting of the eyes must have been smooth as silk too.
Damaged Luggage Repair
The hardcase I carried to Bangkok had a rubber tubing that sealed the two halves of the luggage as it shuts. The tubing is held in place in the luggage by its natural tension. However, when my luggage arrived, the rubber tubing was ripped out, not unlike an outie belly button. Damaged. The bag was also stained with a sticky red substance which I am not sure what it really was.
Made a luggage damage report and the agent acting for TG was called to repair the luggage in Bangkok, at my request.
The bag came back and the rubber tubing, which should have been changed, was sneakily super glued to the luggage. I bet my bottom dollar that when I take this bag on an extended flight to a place such as the US, the glue will freeze, crack and take the tubing along with it. Who do I claim against then? Or what if the glue stained my clothes or items in the baggage? What do I do?
The entire transaction was smooth as silk. Almost fly by night, if you ask me. Leave bag at Concierge, luggage guy picks up, leave TG claim report in exchange for repaired luggage at Concierge thereafter.
The entire recovery was smooth as silk. So was the "con" job.
I turn and changed face. TG inflight service
Can't help noticing that the TG stewardesses are young things with nary a line on their face.
But make a request and each and everyone I've seen so far can put the best Sichuan Mask Changing Master to shame.
"Ok, sir." She went.
She looked up and her face turned. That sinister stare, the underlying belligerence, the anger at being made to serve. It wasn't me who asked, but I could not help noticing, since I am typically quite alert during certain odd flights.
If I were to borrow the MasterCard advertisement tagline and amend it later, "Change face - seamless!"
All in all, TG provided a new interpretation of SAS to me. I was a first time customer on their international flight and would I fly them again?
Let me think about it.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Three Bowls of Pigs Trotters
Yes, sawasdee ka!
I'll be in Bangkok from 12 to 15 Jun.
I'll mostly be wearing navy blue shirts.
No, I'll be a good boy and start nothing there. :)
Till then.
I'll be in Bangkok from 12 to 15 Jun.
I'll mostly be wearing navy blue shirts.
No, I'll be a good boy and start nothing there. :)
Till then.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Singapore Flyer Showdown
Two friends and I were waiting for our Singapore Flyer ride. We patiently gave way to a horde of progressively barbaric people on an organized trip. We did not mind letting them go up first; after all, the idea was for everyone to have a good time.
The last group of people from the organization, however, did not want to move forward for their ride despite the three of us giving them wide berth in the waiting area. We were hence asked to go ahead into the next arriving capsule.
And for some strange reason, the group behind us felt it was fine to just board the same capsule when they were beckoned on by the ushers. Common sense dictated that they wait for the next one.
Of course, they came on and made enough noise in a poorly noise-insulated cabin with bare floors, hard seats and single layer glass panels. And if the quality of their lives directly depended on the amount of noise they could make, then they are probably trying to live like gods. You get the point.
My friends and I were offered audio players which we hold to our ears if we wanted to know where to look and make sense of what we see. There is a reason why we needed to hold those players close to our ears; noise is not welcome in the capsule unless you are in search of a splitting headache after the 37 minute ride.
As the doors of the capsule closed, I already made my stand clear about the noise generated by the group: If I were in a different group, I would have waited for the next capsule. Isn't that why the group refused to go up earlier?
The noise abated for a while and soon the din reached ear splitting levels. The people were distributed across the capsule and as each group began to speak louder, the next group had to speak even louder to be heard. I was hearing absolutely nothing from the audio player despite it being turned to maximum volume and me nearly attempting a direct implantation of the device into my ear.
I have had enough.
So I placed the player down and said - loudly enough - "What's the point of the player? It's so noisy there is nothing I can listen! Whole bunch of *profession deleted* who cannot behave in public!"
Eerie, awkward silence ensued.
Great. I love it. I'm loving it indeed.
I will no longer suffer in silence. I shall no longer put up with nonsense. I love the new me.
As the ride went on, the group made some noise here and there but nothing at the levels as before. Logically, in a shared space, one has to be conscious of the people around them. We all give up something in a shared space. I lost an opportunity to speak with my friend from Hong Kong because of these intruders. We won't speak because we don't want to disturb the peace. But if we had a capsule to ourselves, we might just have the conversation.
Given the way most of the folks behaved after my outburst, it was pretty clear that they are aware they have gone overboard. A quick reflection - given their work, they are always asked to reflect on their actions - will tell them that they have invaded the personal space of outsiders in their midst.
As the ride went on, I turned around and spotted a older woman, probably coming 60s, gesturing to her colleagues in the capsule before ours (i.e. above us, as the flyer rotated on its centre). She was showing that she had to zip her mouth and then she raised her finger up her temple and showed screwing motions.
Ah, if that is not inviting another rebuke. So I told her, "Eh, you don't have to do that. What's wrong with being told off when you are overly noisy?"
She argued that she's calling the flyer management to ask if making noise is allowed in the capsule.
No, I didn't go ballistics. I just wondered if so many years in her job made her go nuts. What is it that is not in her culture that does not tell her that making that much noise and affecting other people is wrong?
I replied that some noise is fine but that amount of noise was plainly unacceptable. I reiterated that if they had wanted to make so much noise, they could have waited for the next capsule. (You do the math: There are 28 capsules and a ride is 37 minutes. In less than a couple of minutes, the group could give everyone instant deafness in a nutshell!)
She then said that she was on her first trip up the flyer and was very excited and her colleagues too. And now they have to ride in such silence and she felt very sorry for herself. She said that she feels sorry to be told off by a foreigner.
I told her it was my first trip too. And I am equally sorry that I had to tick them off this way because they simply went overboard.
And then the next stupider thing happened: One of her colleagues said, "You have the audio players and we don't have any. So how do we not make noise when you take all those players?"
Oh my god. If God made them think before they spoke, they would probably have looked just half as stupid. On our way in, we saw about 50 or so audio players at the entrance. We were asked if we wanted these players. Given that the group of folks were around 80 (max) and that most of the earlier 3 groups had not taken those players, these people up in the capsule would have had an opportunity to take a player if they had wanted.
Excitement or not, this was a lame attempt to salvage anything. If anything at all, I had more respect for those who were aware that they had gone overboard and generally kept quiet.
Old woman insisted that she will write to the management to ask if she can make noise. I told her to go ahead and write. You know, I have so little regard for her and her profession that I had in good mind to drop her minister an email and ask if her behaviour was becoming an employee of the state. But I won't do that; it is not in my interest to make her lose her job or my tax payer monies might be used to keep her alive thereafter.
I also reiterated that a reasonable noise level is acceptable and I won't complain about that. The ride went on later and the group did resume making some noise. However, they did watch themselves and policed the noise levels.
As a fellow Singaporean, I am appalled that we have fallen that far on social graces. Have we forgotten that we are not the centre of the universe? Have we disregarded that in our need for gratification, there are others who are seeking the same and our actions might have deprived others of it?
I may not have done a great job here myself but on hindsight, an outburst was still the best decision; I was certainly not in the mood for a protracted quarrel, which I was fairly certain the outcome of any request since among them was this quarrelsome old lady who is also impervious to reason.
What was the woman thinking when she made those gestures? Haven't we been guilty too of critising the Mainland Chinese for their uncouth, noise-making, and public peace disrupting behaviour but yet do the same in private?
Who are we to throw stones when we live in the same glasshouse? Who are we to tie the proverbial witches to the stakes for stoning and burning when many of us are witches too, except we are closeted?
How is loud noise in an enclosed space an acceptable behaviour when we, flyer visitors, are offered audio players that played only into our ears and not blasted through a public sound system? How is loud noise acceptable when most of members in that group will tell their charges to shut up (or words to that effect) if the noise levels get too high, and make that noise in an open room?
And how is it that old folks Ms Contrarian's age have forgotten basic manners, courtesy, consideration and etiquette? Was she not taught?
On my way out, I went to the ticketing counter and provided feedback on the ride can be made better through sound proofing, off-peak crowd management (especially relating to organizational outings) and capsule design. Oh, and I hope Ms Contrarian writes in and gets a reply to tell her that "for the comfort and pleasure of all riders in the capsule, people should keep their volume down."
To end, I'm going to borrow BHD's closing:
Life is short: Don't waste 37 minutes of it riding the Singapore Flyer.
The last group of people from the organization, however, did not want to move forward for their ride despite the three of us giving them wide berth in the waiting area. We were hence asked to go ahead into the next arriving capsule.
And for some strange reason, the group behind us felt it was fine to just board the same capsule when they were beckoned on by the ushers. Common sense dictated that they wait for the next one.
Of course, they came on and made enough noise in a poorly noise-insulated cabin with bare floors, hard seats and single layer glass panels. And if the quality of their lives directly depended on the amount of noise they could make, then they are probably trying to live like gods. You get the point.
My friends and I were offered audio players which we hold to our ears if we wanted to know where to look and make sense of what we see. There is a reason why we needed to hold those players close to our ears; noise is not welcome in the capsule unless you are in search of a splitting headache after the 37 minute ride.
As the doors of the capsule closed, I already made my stand clear about the noise generated by the group: If I were in a different group, I would have waited for the next capsule. Isn't that why the group refused to go up earlier?
The noise abated for a while and soon the din reached ear splitting levels. The people were distributed across the capsule and as each group began to speak louder, the next group had to speak even louder to be heard. I was hearing absolutely nothing from the audio player despite it being turned to maximum volume and me nearly attempting a direct implantation of the device into my ear.
I have had enough.
So I placed the player down and said - loudly enough - "What's the point of the player? It's so noisy there is nothing I can listen! Whole bunch of *profession deleted* who cannot behave in public!"
Eerie, awkward silence ensued.
Great. I love it. I'm loving it indeed.
I will no longer suffer in silence. I shall no longer put up with nonsense. I love the new me.
As the ride went on, the group made some noise here and there but nothing at the levels as before. Logically, in a shared space, one has to be conscious of the people around them. We all give up something in a shared space. I lost an opportunity to speak with my friend from Hong Kong because of these intruders. We won't speak because we don't want to disturb the peace. But if we had a capsule to ourselves, we might just have the conversation.
Given the way most of the folks behaved after my outburst, it was pretty clear that they are aware they have gone overboard. A quick reflection - given their work, they are always asked to reflect on their actions - will tell them that they have invaded the personal space of outsiders in their midst.
As the ride went on, I turned around and spotted a older woman, probably coming 60s, gesturing to her colleagues in the capsule before ours (i.e. above us, as the flyer rotated on its centre). She was showing that she had to zip her mouth and then she raised her finger up her temple and showed screwing motions.
Ah, if that is not inviting another rebuke. So I told her, "Eh, you don't have to do that. What's wrong with being told off when you are overly noisy?"
She argued that she's calling the flyer management to ask if making noise is allowed in the capsule.
No, I didn't go ballistics. I just wondered if so many years in her job made her go nuts. What is it that is not in her culture that does not tell her that making that much noise and affecting other people is wrong?
I replied that some noise is fine but that amount of noise was plainly unacceptable. I reiterated that if they had wanted to make so much noise, they could have waited for the next capsule. (You do the math: There are 28 capsules and a ride is 37 minutes. In less than a couple of minutes, the group could give everyone instant deafness in a nutshell!)
She then said that she was on her first trip up the flyer and was very excited and her colleagues too. And now they have to ride in such silence and she felt very sorry for herself. She said that she feels sorry to be told off by a foreigner.
I told her it was my first trip too. And I am equally sorry that I had to tick them off this way because they simply went overboard.
And then the next stupider thing happened: One of her colleagues said, "You have the audio players and we don't have any. So how do we not make noise when you take all those players?"
Oh my god. If God made them think before they spoke, they would probably have looked just half as stupid. On our way in, we saw about 50 or so audio players at the entrance. We were asked if we wanted these players. Given that the group of folks were around 80 (max) and that most of the earlier 3 groups had not taken those players, these people up in the capsule would have had an opportunity to take a player if they had wanted.
Excitement or not, this was a lame attempt to salvage anything. If anything at all, I had more respect for those who were aware that they had gone overboard and generally kept quiet.
Old woman insisted that she will write to the management to ask if she can make noise. I told her to go ahead and write. You know, I have so little regard for her and her profession that I had in good mind to drop her minister an email and ask if her behaviour was becoming an employee of the state. But I won't do that; it is not in my interest to make her lose her job or my tax payer monies might be used to keep her alive thereafter.
I also reiterated that a reasonable noise level is acceptable and I won't complain about that. The ride went on later and the group did resume making some noise. However, they did watch themselves and policed the noise levels.
As a fellow Singaporean, I am appalled that we have fallen that far on social graces. Have we forgotten that we are not the centre of the universe? Have we disregarded that in our need for gratification, there are others who are seeking the same and our actions might have deprived others of it?
I may not have done a great job here myself but on hindsight, an outburst was still the best decision; I was certainly not in the mood for a protracted quarrel, which I was fairly certain the outcome of any request since among them was this quarrelsome old lady who is also impervious to reason.
What was the woman thinking when she made those gestures? Haven't we been guilty too of critising the Mainland Chinese for their uncouth, noise-making, and public peace disrupting behaviour but yet do the same in private?
Who are we to throw stones when we live in the same glasshouse? Who are we to tie the proverbial witches to the stakes for stoning and burning when many of us are witches too, except we are closeted?
How is loud noise in an enclosed space an acceptable behaviour when we, flyer visitors, are offered audio players that played only into our ears and not blasted through a public sound system? How is loud noise acceptable when most of members in that group will tell their charges to shut up (or words to that effect) if the noise levels get too high, and make that noise in an open room?
And how is it that old folks Ms Contrarian's age have forgotten basic manners, courtesy, consideration and etiquette? Was she not taught?
On my way out, I went to the ticketing counter and provided feedback on the ride can be made better through sound proofing, off-peak crowd management (especially relating to organizational outings) and capsule design. Oh, and I hope Ms Contrarian writes in and gets a reply to tell her that "for the comfort and pleasure of all riders in the capsule, people should keep their volume down."
To end, I'm going to borrow BHD's closing:
Life is short: Don't waste 37 minutes of it riding the Singapore Flyer.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tardy Updates
I know there are still many entries missing and I do intend to make up for them in time to come.
But today's quick update is this: Last week, I thought the US trip will never end. Today, I wish it will never end. Argh!
But today's quick update is this: Last week, I thought the US trip will never end. Today, I wish it will never end. Argh!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Chicago Contradictions 1 of 8
The clock on the huge direction panel in the Chicago O’Hare Airport reads 6:42. I am way too early for my 9:05 flight to Washington DC. Still, being stuck in the airport to wait a little of your life away sure beats sweating in the shuttle and cursing as the darned van you are in simply cannot move in the lattice structure called a gridlock, except in Brownian motion speeds. Being stuck like is would be considered a “happy problem”, as an ex-boss would call it. Contradictory? Yeah, but that has how my experience in Chicago has been.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
1. Enabled but not enabling
Chicago has a well thought out, rather comprehensive transport network. The city and its surrounding areas are served by the Metro, the Metra (I suspect it was named as a pun because it supplements the Metro to the more outlying areas), buses and taxis. Car hire, both chauffeured and self-drive, are available.
One thing in particular caught my eye about the Metro stations. Like with many major US cities, their main city airport(s) and train stations are Metro-enabled. The Metro or its equivalent in that city serves the airport and the Amtrak station. In this regard, one would expect the transport planners to cater to travellers who have large bags. But no! Many stations do not have either elevators or escalators. In fact, when I collected a train ticket from the Chicago Union Station, the nearest metro station, Quinsy/Wells, did not have any! I saw poor passengers lugging their bags and trying to get down from the platform to street level on the treacherously narrow steps.
Another key feature of the Chicago Transit Authority Metro system is the need for extensive transfers. The purple line, which I use, only loops in the downtown during peak hours. All other times, one has to transfer to a red line and then to any other line, depending on where they need to go. A direct journey is pretty unheard of. And for a tourist like me, constant map reading is necessary to figure out at which station I should be alighting.
Another joke is the advertising pamphlets that major shops along Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, give out tourists. Unfortunately, attractive as some of the bargains might be, the maps are bereft of any supplementary transport information such as metre stations to help tourists get there. In the Singapore way of asking, how to get business liddat?
I had already known that Chicago was going to be “Bus 11” intensive. Bootedharleydude told me as such. But little did I expect that Chicago would also be a city suitable for aspiring mountain climbers. After you walk up and down umpteenth flights of stairs, you’ll understand what I mean.
This city that worked hard to enable convenient transport options must now look to enabling effective transport means. And that would pave the way to their 2016 Olympic bid.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
I give up!
I finally succumbed to my spoilt, bureaucratic ways yesterday.
After lugging my bags and taking public transport faithfully from the start of the journey to the end of my Philadephia leg, my bags probably travelled on more pavements and tarred roads than they had on all their trips past added together.
I hear them whine as their rubber-bare wheels are tortured by the gravel and the uneven roads. I see them shed whatever they have left of their rubber protection as they attempt to navigate the relative potholes that I didn't pay enough attention to. The poor baggies are faithful travel companions. They moan and groan and attract a helluva lot of attention in the hotel lobbies when I arrive - you could hear the wheels roar at the top of their voices to announce my arrival. But they have never complained.
I feel my arms aching and my left shoulder is in pain whenever I take on the weight of my carry on bags. I didn't pack a lot. A usual official work trip during my past civil servant days would see me lug around the same amounts of stuff - at least - but with a difference. On official duty, you can book private transport to ferry you from point to point. On your way in to the country, you only need to drag your luggage as much as from inside the airport at the baggage claim area to outside the airport to the waiting transport, from outside to inside the hotel check in desk, and then to your room. Reverse the baggie movemenets on your way out of the countries. And in between hotel, skip anything involving the airport.
It is not that I miss my good ol' civil servant days but, at PHL, I decided that I cannot survive another round of dragging bags from baggage claim to the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) metro station and then change 4 trains to get to Davis, Evanston, and then drag the bags and walk a couple of blocks to get to the hotel. The hotel is only 15 miles from the hotel but the CTA tracks require me to go downtown first and then change trains to move north, taking about 22 or 27 miles in all. Crazy...
At that moment, I decided that paying USD50 for cab fare each way may not be that bad a proposition after all. But is there something more worthwhile?
As luck would have it, GO! Airport Express at ORD provided the answer. I managed to get a return booking for USD57. As I waited in line, I actually see local Chicago folks queueing for the same service, instead of taking the trains or the cabs, despite not having much to carry. I think I must be doing something right.
My transport arrived 15 minutes after I booked it. My American-Jordanian driver and I chatted when the traffic was not that heavy. My bags are comfotably seated in the boot of the vehicle and gently let off at the door of the hotel. The trip is 35 minutes (despite the traffic jam - Chicago is ramping up its infrastructure for its 2016 Olympics bid) - and 15 miles. Although the CTA would have cost USD2.25 each way, I face the prospect of a 90 to 118 minute trip (depending on how (un)lucky you are with the train schedules) and the need to make 3 transfers between lines.
Honestly, costly as it might have been, I have never found a more justifiable way of blowing away money than taking the transfer.
After lugging my bags and taking public transport faithfully from the start of the journey to the end of my Philadephia leg, my bags probably travelled on more pavements and tarred roads than they had on all their trips past added together.
I hear them whine as their rubber-bare wheels are tortured by the gravel and the uneven roads. I see them shed whatever they have left of their rubber protection as they attempt to navigate the relative potholes that I didn't pay enough attention to. The poor baggies are faithful travel companions. They moan and groan and attract a helluva lot of attention in the hotel lobbies when I arrive - you could hear the wheels roar at the top of their voices to announce my arrival. But they have never complained.
I feel my arms aching and my left shoulder is in pain whenever I take on the weight of my carry on bags. I didn't pack a lot. A usual official work trip during my past civil servant days would see me lug around the same amounts of stuff - at least - but with a difference. On official duty, you can book private transport to ferry you from point to point. On your way in to the country, you only need to drag your luggage as much as from inside the airport at the baggage claim area to outside the airport to the waiting transport, from outside to inside the hotel check in desk, and then to your room. Reverse the baggie movemenets on your way out of the countries. And in between hotel, skip anything involving the airport.
It is not that I miss my good ol' civil servant days but, at PHL, I decided that I cannot survive another round of dragging bags from baggage claim to the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) metro station and then change 4 trains to get to Davis, Evanston, and then drag the bags and walk a couple of blocks to get to the hotel. The hotel is only 15 miles from the hotel but the CTA tracks require me to go downtown first and then change trains to move north, taking about 22 or 27 miles in all. Crazy...
At that moment, I decided that paying USD50 for cab fare each way may not be that bad a proposition after all. But is there something more worthwhile?
As luck would have it, GO! Airport Express at ORD provided the answer. I managed to get a return booking for USD57. As I waited in line, I actually see local Chicago folks queueing for the same service, instead of taking the trains or the cabs, despite not having much to carry. I think I must be doing something right.
My transport arrived 15 minutes after I booked it. My American-Jordanian driver and I chatted when the traffic was not that heavy. My bags are comfotably seated in the boot of the vehicle and gently let off at the door of the hotel. The trip is 35 minutes (despite the traffic jam - Chicago is ramping up its infrastructure for its 2016 Olympics bid) - and 15 miles. Although the CTA would have cost USD2.25 each way, I face the prospect of a 90 to 118 minute trip (depending on how (un)lucky you are with the train schedules) and the need to make 3 transfers between lines.
Honestly, costly as it might have been, I have never found a more justifiable way of blowing away money than taking the transfer.
City Hopping - Snap shots
I.
Philadelphia International Airport (PHL) looks amazingly fresh despite its age. The internal refurbishment work is really well done. The airport is bright and welcoming. I think Singaporeans should really learn from people around the world when they rethink comfort and modernisation. The Singapore Airport folks are doing the same by constantly refurbishing and upgrading its interior, while keeping the external walls and facade largely unscathed. However, while the Americans and the Europeans tear down the insides of buildings and give them new leases of life, Singaporeans tend to demolish the entire building and rebuild something new in its place. I am not saying that either way is superior but evaulate the merits of these cases. Resources are finite and if you don't have to destroy a building with architectural value, then why do it?
My only gripe is with security. Perhaps it is now time to come clean and admit to the people that liquid explosives are not exactly potent enough to bring down a plane. I mean, if we want to be purist about things, then why am I disallowed to bring water in but allowed to buy bottles of mineral water in the secure area?
II.
The UA flight to Chicago arrived 30 minutes late in Philadelphia today. After the passengers were deplaned, Chicago-bound passengers, including me, boarded. As we got on, we were repeatedly told to stow our cabin bags under the seat in front of us if they fit. The overhead compartments are for people with roller bags which take up too much space.
We were reminded that if we do not cooperate, leftover bags that cannot be fit in the overhead compartments will need to be checked in and the flight would be further delayed. Some passengers cursed UA, for it is its charging of check baggage that forced passengers to attempt to carry on everything. So there was a perpetual ding-dong about where the bags should go. I checked in two bags but I was lucky - Frequent Flyers with Silver (or Gold) membership need not pay.
I just feel that such "cost recovery" or "cost limiting/cutting" measures are limited in their effectiveness. But till someone with the power to change things has the foresight to know what's the problem and have the guts to change the policy, nothing positive can be expected from anyone.
III.
The United Airlines Flight arrived 30 minutes late today and took off at 1314 h instead of the scheduled 1238 h. Once in the air, the pilot went at maximum speed. The last time I was in a speeding aircraft travelling at such speeds that the cabin was filled entirely with the roar of the engine was on an Yichang - Chengdu flight in China. I guess it is only in domestic sectors that pilots can pull off such a stunt. There is probably the only air craft in the air at that moment on such a route at such a flight level. Any other traffic would probably only come in as the flight nears the destination airport.
It was pretty interesting to hear the pilot go, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot speaking. I've turned off the seat belt signs but I would urge you to keep them on as we are going as fast as we can to make up the lost time. We expect to arrive at 1.55 pm, meaning there is no delay on the flight. Connections will be fine." We finally made it to the gate at 1404h. To chop 30 minutes off a scheduled 2:17 flight means...
IV.
Chicago O'Hare Airport (ORD) is HUGE. Ginormous - a rather American portmanteau that is ugly to the core, at least in my opinion. Still, it could possibly describe ORD. It seems larger than PHL but it is also very much more run-down. I guess it cannot be helped. ORD and PHL are two of the world's busiest airports in terms of number of flight and passengers handled. But I believe users would want to see a refreshed ORD soon. After all, airport upgrading is the in-thing at this moment and such infrastructural work can help create jobs, direct governmental spending to more worthwhile causes and improve surroundings...
Philadelphia International Airport (PHL) looks amazingly fresh despite its age. The internal refurbishment work is really well done. The airport is bright and welcoming. I think Singaporeans should really learn from people around the world when they rethink comfort and modernisation. The Singapore Airport folks are doing the same by constantly refurbishing and upgrading its interior, while keeping the external walls and facade largely unscathed. However, while the Americans and the Europeans tear down the insides of buildings and give them new leases of life, Singaporeans tend to demolish the entire building and rebuild something new in its place. I am not saying that either way is superior but evaulate the merits of these cases. Resources are finite and if you don't have to destroy a building with architectural value, then why do it?
My only gripe is with security. Perhaps it is now time to come clean and admit to the people that liquid explosives are not exactly potent enough to bring down a plane. I mean, if we want to be purist about things, then why am I disallowed to bring water in but allowed to buy bottles of mineral water in the secure area?
II.
The UA flight to Chicago arrived 30 minutes late in Philadelphia today. After the passengers were deplaned, Chicago-bound passengers, including me, boarded. As we got on, we were repeatedly told to stow our cabin bags under the seat in front of us if they fit. The overhead compartments are for people with roller bags which take up too much space.
We were reminded that if we do not cooperate, leftover bags that cannot be fit in the overhead compartments will need to be checked in and the flight would be further delayed. Some passengers cursed UA, for it is its charging of check baggage that forced passengers to attempt to carry on everything. So there was a perpetual ding-dong about where the bags should go. I checked in two bags but I was lucky - Frequent Flyers with Silver (or Gold) membership need not pay.
I just feel that such "cost recovery" or "cost limiting/cutting" measures are limited in their effectiveness. But till someone with the power to change things has the foresight to know what's the problem and have the guts to change the policy, nothing positive can be expected from anyone.
III.
The United Airlines Flight arrived 30 minutes late today and took off at 1314 h instead of the scheduled 1238 h. Once in the air, the pilot went at maximum speed. The last time I was in a speeding aircraft travelling at such speeds that the cabin was filled entirely with the roar of the engine was on an Yichang - Chengdu flight in China. I guess it is only in domestic sectors that pilots can pull off such a stunt. There is probably the only air craft in the air at that moment on such a route at such a flight level. Any other traffic would probably only come in as the flight nears the destination airport.
It was pretty interesting to hear the pilot go, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot speaking. I've turned off the seat belt signs but I would urge you to keep them on as we are going as fast as we can to make up the lost time. We expect to arrive at 1.55 pm, meaning there is no delay on the flight. Connections will be fine." We finally made it to the gate at 1404h. To chop 30 minutes off a scheduled 2:17 flight means...
IV.
Chicago O'Hare Airport (ORD) is HUGE. Ginormous - a rather American portmanteau that is ugly to the core, at least in my opinion. Still, it could possibly describe ORD. It seems larger than PHL but it is also very much more run-down. I guess it cannot be helped. ORD and PHL are two of the world's busiest airports in terms of number of flight and passengers handled. But I believe users would want to see a refreshed ORD soon. After all, airport upgrading is the in-thing at this moment and such infrastructural work can help create jobs, direct governmental spending to more worthwhile causes and improve surroundings...
Monday, July 20, 2009
Memoirs of a Jetlagged-sha 4
Of course, by the time I got to part 3 of my memoirs, a blue-blooded American had to tell me to quit my "bitchin'". Ha ha ha... I knew this was going to happen and will I ever quit bitching? Only time will tell. One thing I know, I am now not as jetlagged as I was; I am amazed that I recovered this quickly. I bet the injured shoulder does contribute to that (more endorphines?) but I am now more concerned about my impending check out in about 40 minutes and my arduous journey to the next hotel. One can't stay at the Sheraton at almost USD 200 per night unless one had to; the next hotel is less than USD 100 per night. As reluctant as I am to reduce myself to the next place, I need to. USD 100 pays for many meals. Thus, this final part of the memoirs.
One cannot help but be very awed by the John F Kennedy Airport in New York. It is amazingly huge and there are many pieces of artwork adorning its walls. I am not artsy enough to know if they can be considered impressive but it goes give me a feeling that the place I am about to visit welcomes people from all lands and is tolerant of diversity. And before long, one enters the border control area where queues form rapidly and snake around the barriers.
I hate the wait. There is something about the US border control folks that I should... not bitch about this time. Amazingly, for all the grief that the guy manning the counter had given to all the visitors before me, checking them till heavens come, he cleared me in record time.
It was as though he had been expecting me and after a couple of questions - what is your purpose for visiting and how long will you be here - he fingerprinted me like a con, took my mugshot and cleared me. All with so much friendliness I thought I would faint. I was so happy that I promptly went to the wrong baggage claim carousel and begin wondering why there were so few Germans among the passengers waiting for their luggage. Before long, I realised my mistake and went to the correct belt. My bags arrived in less than 5 minutes. (Of course, when you wait for almost 45 minutes at border control...)
I grabbed my bags and was waved through the customs folks even though I declared I had meat products (pork jerky for my NJ friends). Compared to Newark, JFK was really a breeze to go through. Everything was bigger and brighter. People were friendlier and the atmosphere was more welcoming.
Yesterday, the US revealed a new, friendlier face to a traveller. And to this terribly tired and irate traveller who has another leg of rail travel to complete, it was very much appreciated.
One cannot help but be very awed by the John F Kennedy Airport in New York. It is amazingly huge and there are many pieces of artwork adorning its walls. I am not artsy enough to know if they can be considered impressive but it goes give me a feeling that the place I am about to visit welcomes people from all lands and is tolerant of diversity. And before long, one enters the border control area where queues form rapidly and snake around the barriers.
I hate the wait. There is something about the US border control folks that I should... not bitch about this time. Amazingly, for all the grief that the guy manning the counter had given to all the visitors before me, checking them till heavens come, he cleared me in record time.
It was as though he had been expecting me and after a couple of questions - what is your purpose for visiting and how long will you be here - he fingerprinted me like a con, took my mugshot and cleared me. All with so much friendliness I thought I would faint. I was so happy that I promptly went to the wrong baggage claim carousel and begin wondering why there were so few Germans among the passengers waiting for their luggage. Before long, I realised my mistake and went to the correct belt. My bags arrived in less than 5 minutes. (Of course, when you wait for almost 45 minutes at border control...)
I grabbed my bags and was waved through the customs folks even though I declared I had meat products (pork jerky for my NJ friends). Compared to Newark, JFK was really a breeze to go through. Everything was bigger and brighter. People were friendlier and the atmosphere was more welcoming.
Yesterday, the US revealed a new, friendlier face to a traveller. And to this terribly tired and irate traveller who has another leg of rail travel to complete, it was very much appreciated.
Memoirs of a Jetlagged-sha 3
Familiar sights greeted me the minute I stepped out of the LIRR into the Penn Station in New York City. Incredible. I was 26 hours into my odessey at that time.
I had to drag my luggage and navigate through the madding crowds to get to the booking counters. Alas, they were very crowded. I could book a ticket on one of those self-service machines but... is Philadelphia Station the same as the Philadelphia 30th Street Station? You see, there are many things in the US that do not make sense. Multiple naming of the same thing is one of them.
I could either queue up for a ticket and risk missing 665 Keystone at 1.17 pm and instead take 667 Keystone an hour later, or I could take a chance. So I decided to take a chance. I booked the ticket and went to buy lunch. And why does it cost USD20 more to book the tickets on the spot,one wonders.
Lunch... the familiar shops and the familiar produce in the familiar sizes. How I love coming to the US. So I picked up a cranberry muffin for lunch. I always loved berries and between a blueberry scone and a cranberry muffin both going for the same price, let's say I prefer the moister cake. It was a huge sized muffin, which I just finished eathing the second half as I was writing the last blog entry.
Once I scored lunch, the train was in station. It was hell all the way. I had to lug my 2 bags down a flight of stairs, and while it was fortunate that there is an elevator (or lift, as the British calls it) to bring me down to trackside. However, the safety bumps on the already narrow platforms made dragging the luggage an awful chore. But the worst is yet to be.
How Ameicans can name trolley lines by direction (East/West) when there is even no reference direction to begin with puzzles me. Imagine arriving at Philly Station and then have absolutely no inkling that the trolley (aka subway) is actually not part of the larger train station. Pity the poor traveller who don't know that. And worse, after you get into the paid area, you ask yourself - 36th Street East or West? And when you try to ask someone... Hello, anyone?
And horrors of the worst kind happened in 36th Street Station. The station does not even have a lift from platform to road level. My left shoulder is most likely sprained, if lightly, and I'm in some pain. Of course, I had to get out of the wrong exit and make an additional road crossing.
On a brighter note, I found the meeting place and I'm looking forward to the meeting later.
Time for bed part 2.
I had to drag my luggage and navigate through the madding crowds to get to the booking counters. Alas, they were very crowded. I could book a ticket on one of those self-service machines but... is Philadelphia Station the same as the Philadelphia 30th Street Station? You see, there are many things in the US that do not make sense. Multiple naming of the same thing is one of them.
I could either queue up for a ticket and risk missing 665 Keystone at 1.17 pm and instead take 667 Keystone an hour later, or I could take a chance. So I decided to take a chance. I booked the ticket and went to buy lunch. And why does it cost USD20 more to book the tickets on the spot,one wonders.
Lunch... the familiar shops and the familiar produce in the familiar sizes. How I love coming to the US. So I picked up a cranberry muffin for lunch. I always loved berries and between a blueberry scone and a cranberry muffin both going for the same price, let's say I prefer the moister cake. It was a huge sized muffin, which I just finished eathing the second half as I was writing the last blog entry.
Once I scored lunch, the train was in station. It was hell all the way. I had to lug my 2 bags down a flight of stairs, and while it was fortunate that there is an elevator (or lift, as the British calls it) to bring me down to trackside. However, the safety bumps on the already narrow platforms made dragging the luggage an awful chore. But the worst is yet to be.
How Ameicans can name trolley lines by direction (East/West) when there is even no reference direction to begin with puzzles me. Imagine arriving at Philly Station and then have absolutely no inkling that the trolley (aka subway) is actually not part of the larger train station. Pity the poor traveller who don't know that. And worse, after you get into the paid area, you ask yourself - 36th Street East or West? And when you try to ask someone... Hello, anyone?
And horrors of the worst kind happened in 36th Street Station. The station does not even have a lift from platform to road level. My left shoulder is most likely sprained, if lightly, and I'm in some pain. Of course, I had to get out of the wrong exit and make an additional road crossing.
On a brighter note, I found the meeting place and I'm looking forward to the meeting later.
Time for bed part 2.
Memoirs of a Jetlagged-sha 2
Clearing the Frankfurt Airport security once more was as bad as I imagined. Actually, a little more harrowing than I had expected.
You see, Mr USA grabbed his oversized bags and headed out towards the baggage claim area, giving me hope that he might be gone in Frankfurt after all. But NO! As I queued to re-check in, I saw him turn back and attempt to join the over bloated queue. It was then that I decided to go and get a seat change.
The Frankfurt Gate Hold Room was too small for the passengers of a B744. There were simply insufficient seats and too little personal space. There were meandering corridors which passengers had to navigate through to get to the seats and there was even a mobile deli-magazine-souvenir store inside the room. But there were not enough seats, no privacy, no computers offering free email, no water dispensers offering the parched travellers any free water.
Ok, I should blame Singapore Changi Airport for this. But then if we think about it, Singapore Airlines carry its Europe-bound passengers to the Lufthansa Hub in Frankfurt, where they starburst to their final destinations (pun NOT intended) on LH flights (mostly). Both airlines are Star Alliance members. So, why should there be a difference in the comfort levels for the passengers?
I should also reiterate the low ceilings of FRA, giving most of us a feeling of being boxed in. The perceived pressure is quite incredible.
This time, I was seated in an aisle seat with the adjoining seat empty (phew!) and across the same row of seats was a German granny. In fact, we had two empty seats between us and we were both happy. On my right was a family of 6 - a rather young couple and their 4 kids. If you didn't know, you might guess that the father was an elder brother to the son. But they were very independent and very well behaved. Dad was incredible. He ran the entire process of getting the kids fed, filling out their immigration cards, checking on them and so on with Hitler-like efficiency but with so much care and love. Mum seemed to have a relatively easier time.
The food on this FRA-JFK flight was pretty lopsided. The breads were dropdead gorgeous. Could be the age, could be the palatte, could be... But I've fallen in love in German breads all over again. It's light, yet it packs a pretty weighty load. The lightly crisp crusts and the buttery centres with the silky smooth German butter and strawberry jam. I could eat a dozen buns in the blink of an eye!
Breakfast was either mushroom crepe (oh no, I'm only doing crepes at Out of the Pan at Swissotel Stamford) or pork vermicelli. I had the latter and found there were more bean sprouts than there were vermicelli. Go figure.
The light meal was either Thai Curry Beef or Chicken in paprika sauce. As I don't eat beef, I went for the chicken. Wasn't too bad but thank god for the ice-cream dessert. That Walls Nugger - another German product - blew me away. Looks like it's time to visit Germany for food soon.
I could see the German family enjoyed their food and all. And as fate would have it, we left the plane "together", picked up our luggage "apart", "met" at the toilet and ended up on the same Airtrain. Father and eldest son were unsure if they were on the correct train. I shared my brochure with them and they were finally assured they were. As they reached Federal Circle to pick up the rental car, we wished one another good luck and went our separate ways.
In a while, I reached Jamaica Station and off I went to the LIRR to NYC.
You see, Mr USA grabbed his oversized bags and headed out towards the baggage claim area, giving me hope that he might be gone in Frankfurt after all. But NO! As I queued to re-check in, I saw him turn back and attempt to join the over bloated queue. It was then that I decided to go and get a seat change.
The Frankfurt Gate Hold Room was too small for the passengers of a B744. There were simply insufficient seats and too little personal space. There were meandering corridors which passengers had to navigate through to get to the seats and there was even a mobile deli-magazine-souvenir store inside the room. But there were not enough seats, no privacy, no computers offering free email, no water dispensers offering the parched travellers any free water.
Ok, I should blame Singapore Changi Airport for this. But then if we think about it, Singapore Airlines carry its Europe-bound passengers to the Lufthansa Hub in Frankfurt, where they starburst to their final destinations (pun NOT intended) on LH flights (mostly). Both airlines are Star Alliance members. So, why should there be a difference in the comfort levels for the passengers?
I should also reiterate the low ceilings of FRA, giving most of us a feeling of being boxed in. The perceived pressure is quite incredible.
This time, I was seated in an aisle seat with the adjoining seat empty (phew!) and across the same row of seats was a German granny. In fact, we had two empty seats between us and we were both happy. On my right was a family of 6 - a rather young couple and their 4 kids. If you didn't know, you might guess that the father was an elder brother to the son. But they were very independent and very well behaved. Dad was incredible. He ran the entire process of getting the kids fed, filling out their immigration cards, checking on them and so on with Hitler-like efficiency but with so much care and love. Mum seemed to have a relatively easier time.
The food on this FRA-JFK flight was pretty lopsided. The breads were dropdead gorgeous. Could be the age, could be the palatte, could be... But I've fallen in love in German breads all over again. It's light, yet it packs a pretty weighty load. The lightly crisp crusts and the buttery centres with the silky smooth German butter and strawberry jam. I could eat a dozen buns in the blink of an eye!
Breakfast was either mushroom crepe (oh no, I'm only doing crepes at Out of the Pan at Swissotel Stamford) or pork vermicelli. I had the latter and found there were more bean sprouts than there were vermicelli. Go figure.
The light meal was either Thai Curry Beef or Chicken in paprika sauce. As I don't eat beef, I went for the chicken. Wasn't too bad but thank god for the ice-cream dessert. That Walls Nugger - another German product - blew me away. Looks like it's time to visit Germany for food soon.
I could see the German family enjoyed their food and all. And as fate would have it, we left the plane "together", picked up our luggage "apart", "met" at the toilet and ended up on the same Airtrain. Father and eldest son were unsure if they were on the correct train. I shared my brochure with them and they were finally assured they were. As they reached Federal Circle to pick up the rental car, we wished one another good luck and went our separate ways.
In a while, I reached Jamaica Station and off I went to the LIRR to NYC.
Memoirs of a Jetlagged-sha 1
There is no two ways about it. Jetlagged or not, the first and foremost desire is to bitch. So here goes.
The flight started off really badly. The heavy flight traffic caused the plane to take off nearly an hour late and worse, I was seated beside some idiotic American man in his 50s. Burly and stocky, he insisted on taking over "my" right seat rest despite having two seats to himself in the middle of the centre block of the 747 flight. I could either stick out to my left and be knocked down by people walking down the aisle or food trolleys, or we can compromise and he moves a little to his right and I move to my left to the extent of not putting myself in mortal harm's way. But no, he can't. So we engaged in a tact elbow and shoulder battle throughout the entire flight from Singapore to Frankfurt. Trust me, we even stuck elbows into each other's midsections. And for jerks like him, he brings out the worst of me. I turned in my sleep and let off some air in his direction. He was completely non-receptive of any "kind" he gets. I was nice enough to not do anything beyond the sovereign airspace of the handle but he never knew to respect that. When he plonked himself onto that seat, he closed the overhead compartment! When I opened it, I realised he had two huge bags and on the huger of the two, he hung a PPS tag, suggesting that he is a First Class frequent flyer. But he certainly had no First Class EQ.
When I arrived in Frankfurt, I was pissed enough to complain to the airline representatives on the ground. They swapped me to another seat. And as I walk forward to the lavatory, I see the poor guy assigned the seat I last vacated, leaning out perilously because this f*ck*ng b*st*rd won't share.
... to be continued.
The flight started off really badly. The heavy flight traffic caused the plane to take off nearly an hour late and worse, I was seated beside some idiotic American man in his 50s. Burly and stocky, he insisted on taking over "my" right seat rest despite having two seats to himself in the middle of the centre block of the 747 flight. I could either stick out to my left and be knocked down by people walking down the aisle or food trolleys, or we can compromise and he moves a little to his right and I move to my left to the extent of not putting myself in mortal harm's way. But no, he can't. So we engaged in a tact elbow and shoulder battle throughout the entire flight from Singapore to Frankfurt. Trust me, we even stuck elbows into each other's midsections. And for jerks like him, he brings out the worst of me. I turned in my sleep and let off some air in his direction. He was completely non-receptive of any "kind" he gets. I was nice enough to not do anything beyond the sovereign airspace of the handle but he never knew to respect that. When he plonked himself onto that seat, he closed the overhead compartment! When I opened it, I realised he had two huge bags and on the huger of the two, he hung a PPS tag, suggesting that he is a First Class frequent flyer. But he certainly had no First Class EQ.
When I arrived in Frankfurt, I was pissed enough to complain to the airline representatives on the ground. They swapped me to another seat. And as I walk forward to the lavatory, I see the poor guy assigned the seat I last vacated, leaning out perilously because this f*ck*ng b*st*rd won't share.
... to be continued.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
On tenterhooks
The brain is almost unreliable these days with words I hardly use. The latent memory store does not maintain its integrity enough. I had to check a dictionary, I turn to online ones these days, to check if my tenterhoooks was spelled correctly. D*mn, I was really that tentative about it. But that shouldn't come as a big surprise to me. My entire being last week and this has been on tenterhooks for more things than one.
(Very soon, I should write an academic essay here and then direct all my students to come over here to take a look at one correct academic writing piece so that they know what is a hook, what is a thesis statement, what is a topic sentence, what are admissible evidence, what are cinchers etc... But that is a day in some future.)
The first salvo was my 4 month old Nokia phone not holding charge. I had to send it down last Tuesday to the Nokia service centre and kick up a fuss there because the counter staff tried to shirk out of their product warranty. He claimed that battery life - even if the user manual stated that it lasts up to 300 hours on standby - can be as short as 48 to 72 hours because of all sorts of factors. Yeah, right. When I got the phone new, the battery held charge up to 240 hours (10 days). Now, it drains itself flat, on standby mode, in 48 hours. What could have happened? All sorts of what factors? What about a spoilt battery? I stood my ground and my phone was finally taken in for repair.
The service centre called to inform me on Friday last. The phone is ready for collection. Fine. Looks good to me. Then my computer crashed. It shut itself down and would not reboot.
Housemate said the hard disk crashed. I was devastated. (I can spell devastated because being Murphy's favourite nephew, this word is more frequently used than tenterhooks. Honestly, there is no need to be on tenterhooks usually; one does not often have impending trips.) I hope that it is not. If it is, all my hard work and trip information would be gone. I need to start writing emails to the people I wish to meet to check the timing all over again.
To make things worse, the scheduled back up hard disk went AWOL and had not been backing up my stuff since May. The laptop was finally sent in to HP that same day at 7 pm and even at HP, I had to raise my voice (just a little) at them. It was the third time in a row that I was told my set was not under warranty. However, the fact that my set was under extended warranty (note to all HP laptop buyers: First critical crash-and-burn will occur within 6 months of the first year warranty's expiry; second within 6 months of the extended warranty's (usually for an additional next 24 months) expiry) was established about 4 months ago when it was discovered that HP did not register the set for extended cover. The supporting receipts were faxed to HP, who acknowledged receipt of the extended warranty. Yet, this time, my set was still... Fortunately, the receipts were in the car. Housemate genius conveniently left the documents in the car foreseeing that another showdown would be inevitable given the reliability of HP products. So warranty was finally settled.
But HP has not gotten back to me to tell me if their initial diagnosis of a motherboard failure was correct. The laptop isn't with me yet. I'm working on my older laptop with an external monitor. The LCD screen died 1 month after its 36 month warranty. I probably need to blame certain bloggers who are always in pink for shocking my poor monitor out of consciousness. I jest, but the only reason why I stuck to HP is for their after sales service.
Mini hiccups and the Wii... Oh, after my intial encounter with Super Mario Galaxy and my decision to lay off it entirely, I went back and played the game for a few more times and cleared a few more worlds. But I digress. Amidst these awful occurrences, I had a great save from a friend-cum-mentor. She made me prepare a list of critical info to send to her for a quick browse and from her, I managed to get a document - perhaps the most important one of all - back. It probably saved me another 2 weeks of research to put that same list back together. Yes, it ain't easy reading pages and pages of CV and description to decide if you can work with that someone on your postgrad studies.
I now wait with bated breath, my luggage and all not packed yet, for any news of my laptop. Defnitely on tenterhooks, you bet.
(Very soon, I should write an academic essay here and then direct all my students to come over here to take a look at one correct academic writing piece so that they know what is a hook, what is a thesis statement, what is a topic sentence, what are admissible evidence, what are cinchers etc... But that is a day in some future.)
The first salvo was my 4 month old Nokia phone not holding charge. I had to send it down last Tuesday to the Nokia service centre and kick up a fuss there because the counter staff tried to shirk out of their product warranty. He claimed that battery life - even if the user manual stated that it lasts up to 300 hours on standby - can be as short as 48 to 72 hours because of all sorts of factors. Yeah, right. When I got the phone new, the battery held charge up to 240 hours (10 days). Now, it drains itself flat, on standby mode, in 48 hours. What could have happened? All sorts of what factors? What about a spoilt battery? I stood my ground and my phone was finally taken in for repair.
The service centre called to inform me on Friday last. The phone is ready for collection. Fine. Looks good to me. Then my computer crashed. It shut itself down and would not reboot.
Housemate said the hard disk crashed. I was devastated. (I can spell devastated because being Murphy's favourite nephew, this word is more frequently used than tenterhooks. Honestly, there is no need to be on tenterhooks usually; one does not often have impending trips.) I hope that it is not. If it is, all my hard work and trip information would be gone. I need to start writing emails to the people I wish to meet to check the timing all over again.
To make things worse, the scheduled back up hard disk went AWOL and had not been backing up my stuff since May. The laptop was finally sent in to HP that same day at 7 pm and even at HP, I had to raise my voice (just a little) at them. It was the third time in a row that I was told my set was not under warranty. However, the fact that my set was under extended warranty (note to all HP laptop buyers: First critical crash-and-burn will occur within 6 months of the first year warranty's expiry; second within 6 months of the extended warranty's (usually for an additional next 24 months) expiry) was established about 4 months ago when it was discovered that HP did not register the set for extended cover. The supporting receipts were faxed to HP, who acknowledged receipt of the extended warranty. Yet, this time, my set was still... Fortunately, the receipts were in the car. Housemate genius conveniently left the documents in the car foreseeing that another showdown would be inevitable given the reliability of HP products. So warranty was finally settled.
But HP has not gotten back to me to tell me if their initial diagnosis of a motherboard failure was correct. The laptop isn't with me yet. I'm working on my older laptop with an external monitor. The LCD screen died 1 month after its 36 month warranty. I probably need to blame certain bloggers who are always in pink for shocking my poor monitor out of consciousness. I jest, but the only reason why I stuck to HP is for their after sales service.
Mini hiccups and the Wii... Oh, after my intial encounter with Super Mario Galaxy and my decision to lay off it entirely, I went back and played the game for a few more times and cleared a few more worlds. But I digress. Amidst these awful occurrences, I had a great save from a friend-cum-mentor. She made me prepare a list of critical info to send to her for a quick browse and from her, I managed to get a document - perhaps the most important one of all - back. It probably saved me another 2 weeks of research to put that same list back together. Yes, it ain't easy reading pages and pages of CV and description to decide if you can work with that someone on your postgrad studies.
I now wait with bated breath, my luggage and all not packed yet, for any news of my laptop. Defnitely on tenterhooks, you bet.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Just the last bits...
I'm almost ready to go on my trip. Just have a few things to do.
1. Get a US SIM card so I don't have to incur IDD charges when making US phone calls. I know what shop to buy from but they are so far from my hotel. Perhaps I should try my luck in the airport and see if I can score something.
2. My accommodation in New York City is not done yet. This should be done after I make a phone call. Heck, the USD is climbing higher and higher recently. All my savings from the lower rates earlier when I booked my flights and other hotel rooms are not even enough to match the increase in the rates.
3. I need to find out where else to shop in NYC. Can't be doing Century 21 all the time. I want to find something new. Perhaps also go to the Guggenheim and take a picture of its exterior. Does anyone know if the renovations are complete?
4. I've got only a day in DC. I'm meeting an old friend there. And I need to know what plans my NJ friends have, so I know to book my Amtrak tickets for the correct train timing.
Time seems to fly at the wrong time and crawl at the incorrect time.
1. Get a US SIM card so I don't have to incur IDD charges when making US phone calls. I know what shop to buy from but they are so far from my hotel. Perhaps I should try my luck in the airport and see if I can score something.
2. My accommodation in New York City is not done yet. This should be done after I make a phone call. Heck, the USD is climbing higher and higher recently. All my savings from the lower rates earlier when I booked my flights and other hotel rooms are not even enough to match the increase in the rates.
3. I need to find out where else to shop in NYC. Can't be doing Century 21 all the time. I want to find something new. Perhaps also go to the Guggenheim and take a picture of its exterior. Does anyone know if the renovations are complete?
4. I've got only a day in DC. I'm meeting an old friend there. And I need to know what plans my NJ friends have, so I know to book my Amtrak tickets for the correct train timing.
Time seems to fly at the wrong time and crawl at the incorrect time.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Murphy Strikes
Strike 1
University of Maryland wrote back and said my area is not a good fit with them. There goes a safety school.
Strike 2
Amtrak takes more than 4 hours to move from Chicago Union Station to Ann Arbor. I can't possibly do a day trip and return in decent shape. I will probably reach the hotel 1 am the next morning after the DAY trip and wake up in time the next morning.
Strike 3
To make it to Chicago O'Hare International Airport by 7 am to check in, I need to hop on the 4.57 am Metro at Davis, Evanston. The trip takes about 2 hours and the reason is that the journey taken by the Metro lines go down south and the back northeast. A direct journey east would have probably taken a third the time.
Strike 4
A big shot of a particular university, after seeing my background, says my GRE Verbal scores are slightly low but "I (referring to if he were me) would definitely apply to our program." I think this is a uber long shot since the university accepts only 2 PhD students a year. But then, this big shot is really big.
Pieceofpork, message me. This university is for you.
Strike 5
To go to visit this particular university, I'll have to spend 10 hours on an Amtrak train, give up 2 nights of hotel, rebook another night of hotel, and give up one part of an airticket.
Strike 6
Not yet. But another Airbus (Yemen) bites the sea. And I'm booked on two Airbus planes for my US domestic flights. Is that irony or what?
Stike 7
You people are sadists or WHAT? Don't tell me... Of course you are enjoying this. What better way to have fun than at another's expense.
Heck, I'm going to enjoy this US trip and I can't give a bloody damn about whatever happens. At this rate things are going, and with the bird flu raging, I wonder if tomorrow will ever come. Maybe I should extend yet another day in NYC...
University of Maryland wrote back and said my area is not a good fit with them. There goes a safety school.
Strike 2
Amtrak takes more than 4 hours to move from Chicago Union Station to Ann Arbor. I can't possibly do a day trip and return in decent shape. I will probably reach the hotel 1 am the next morning after the DAY trip and wake up in time the next morning.
Strike 3
To make it to Chicago O'Hare International Airport by 7 am to check in, I need to hop on the 4.57 am Metro at Davis, Evanston. The trip takes about 2 hours and the reason is that the journey taken by the Metro lines go down south and the back northeast. A direct journey east would have probably taken a third the time.
Strike 4
A big shot of a particular university, after seeing my background, says my GRE Verbal scores are slightly low but "I (referring to if he were me) would definitely apply to our program." I think this is a uber long shot since the university accepts only 2 PhD students a year. But then, this big shot is really big.
Pieceofpork, message me. This university is for you.
Strike 5
To go to visit this particular university, I'll have to spend 10 hours on an Amtrak train, give up 2 nights of hotel, rebook another night of hotel, and give up one part of an airticket.
Strike 6
Not yet. But another Airbus (Yemen) bites the sea. And I'm booked on two Airbus planes for my US domestic flights. Is that irony or what?
Stike 7
You people are sadists or WHAT? Don't tell me... Of course you are enjoying this. What better way to have fun than at another's expense.
Heck, I'm going to enjoy this US trip and I can't give a bloody damn about whatever happens. At this rate things are going, and with the bird flu raging, I wonder if tomorrow will ever come. Maybe I should extend yet another day in NYC...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Quasi big balls
Tackled the tree top walk today with a PE teacher friend. Here are some facts and true occurrences.
1. We walked a total of 7.6 km, mainly on forest trek, for a 250 m tree top suspension bridge walk. We've decided that a huge amount of persuasion will be required to get us to go there again. For example, a new car park built along the road at about the 2.5 km mark of the trail could be a start.
2. There is a free public carpark for trail visitors so you can park your cars at the start point and then walk your way in. And perhaps have a couple of water coolers and a small toilet/changing room at the car park. The water source and changing room will be well appreciated.
3. Signages at some of the points could be clearer and more pronunced. We had to make a few guesses along the way. And good for me, my sense of direction, even in the forest, served me well.
4. National Parks should consider a one-way hourly bus ride out from the start of the trails to the car park. Folks with jelly legs after traversing the roof top walk would really appreciate the gesture.
5. There is a steep tarmac-ed part of the trail which precedes the tree top walk. Wow, that was a prelude to jello your legs before your fear of heights do you in on the one-man wide suspension bridge.
Personally:
6, I got abrasions on my palms twisting dry my little towel, which was frequently soaked wet with my sweat. If I don't wring it dry, I can't get it to clean any more sweat off me.
7. My inner thighs are abraded. Man, they hurt when I walk and I had to work around the pain by walking somewhat bow-legged. Thereby, the title of this post.
Perhaps there was too much anticipation and too much expectation from the two of us at the onset of the trip. In the end, we had some sun (fortunately much less than feared) and too much walking. The walk wasn't all that fun, cos there were many up and down slopes and the need to retrace our steps back to the starting point dragged out the experience. The lack of anything really fresh on the way out added to the boredom of the walk.
Durian, rambutan, and jackfruit trees were fruiting like crazy. There were monkeys, squirrels, birds, butterflies, moths, salamanders, and whatever else saw us but we may not have seen them. There were surprisingly few, or no, mosquitoes and bugs.
For people undaunted still, my advice would be as follows:
1. Bring a towel for wiping sweat, especially if you perspire a lot.
2. Dry fit or no go. My dry fit shirt was fine but my cotton bermudas were so laden with sweat midway into the journey, I couldn't wait to get out of them.
3. Bring clothes to change out after the trip. Toilet and changing room or not, you'll appreciate this.
4. Forget the camera or any bags. If you can, travel light.
5. You'll reach the Ranger Station twice (and man, would I love a posting there! One of the guys there had an autographed Timberland boot. Hot!) and each time, use the facilities. Drink some water the first time around and drink up as much as you need before you make your way out. You tend to lose more water out than in, especially if you visit in the morning. The sun simply gets hotter and you sweat more.
6. Don't eat or drink on your walk. The monkeys we saw were observing us for food. I think they are still rather reliant on human offerings (it's illegal to feed them), especially during meal times.
7. Keep an eye for freshly dropped durians. You might just get a free fruit.
Have fun!
1. We walked a total of 7.6 km, mainly on forest trek, for a 250 m tree top suspension bridge walk. We've decided that a huge amount of persuasion will be required to get us to go there again. For example, a new car park built along the road at about the 2.5 km mark of the trail could be a start.
2. There is a free public carpark for trail visitors so you can park your cars at the start point and then walk your way in. And perhaps have a couple of water coolers and a small toilet/changing room at the car park. The water source and changing room will be well appreciated.
3. Signages at some of the points could be clearer and more pronunced. We had to make a few guesses along the way. And good for me, my sense of direction, even in the forest, served me well.
4. National Parks should consider a one-way hourly bus ride out from the start of the trails to the car park. Folks with jelly legs after traversing the roof top walk would really appreciate the gesture.
5. There is a steep tarmac-ed part of the trail which precedes the tree top walk. Wow, that was a prelude to jello your legs before your fear of heights do you in on the one-man wide suspension bridge.
Personally:
6, I got abrasions on my palms twisting dry my little towel, which was frequently soaked wet with my sweat. If I don't wring it dry, I can't get it to clean any more sweat off me.
7. My inner thighs are abraded. Man, they hurt when I walk and I had to work around the pain by walking somewhat bow-legged. Thereby, the title of this post.
Perhaps there was too much anticipation and too much expectation from the two of us at the onset of the trip. In the end, we had some sun (fortunately much less than feared) and too much walking. The walk wasn't all that fun, cos there were many up and down slopes and the need to retrace our steps back to the starting point dragged out the experience. The lack of anything really fresh on the way out added to the boredom of the walk.
Durian, rambutan, and jackfruit trees were fruiting like crazy. There were monkeys, squirrels, birds, butterflies, moths, salamanders, and whatever else saw us but we may not have seen them. There were surprisingly few, or no, mosquitoes and bugs.
For people undaunted still, my advice would be as follows:
1. Bring a towel for wiping sweat, especially if you perspire a lot.
2. Dry fit or no go. My dry fit shirt was fine but my cotton bermudas were so laden with sweat midway into the journey, I couldn't wait to get out of them.
3. Bring clothes to change out after the trip. Toilet and changing room or not, you'll appreciate this.
4. Forget the camera or any bags. If you can, travel light.
5. You'll reach the Ranger Station twice (and man, would I love a posting there! One of the guys there had an autographed Timberland boot. Hot!) and each time, use the facilities. Drink some water the first time around and drink up as much as you need before you make your way out. You tend to lose more water out than in, especially if you visit in the morning. The sun simply gets hotter and you sweat more.
6. Don't eat or drink on your walk. The monkeys we saw were observing us for food. I think they are still rather reliant on human offerings (it's illegal to feed them), especially during meal times.
7. Keep an eye for freshly dropped durians. You might just get a free fruit.
Have fun!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Run and hide!
I can't believe it. I am looking forward to tackling the MacRitchie tree top walk tomorrow.
Watch out, you green trees! This lard lump from Pasir Ris is coming over to trample on you.
Of course, I'm choosing the wimp option. I'm going to take the short cut to the tree top walk. I'll park at Venus Drive and then do the 7 km round trip. Doing a round trip beginning MacRitchie car park will require more than 10 km of walking.
I am not so sure I'm going to make my foot masseurs work that hard on Friday.
Tree top walk, here I come!
Watch out, you green trees! This lard lump from Pasir Ris is coming over to trample on you.
Of course, I'm choosing the wimp option. I'm going to take the short cut to the tree top walk. I'll park at Venus Drive and then do the 7 km round trip. Doing a round trip beginning MacRitchie car park will require more than 10 km of walking.
I am not so sure I'm going to make my foot masseurs work that hard on Friday.
Tree top walk, here I come!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)