Thursday 20 June 2013

Beating Jet Lag...

It's been five days since I returned from the Far East and I've finally shifted back into the right time zone.

This was actually pretty nice as I'd get loads of sleep in the evenings and then wake up super early meaning that I was in productive mode from about 4.30am. But then at 3.00pm I'd inevitably crash, which did kind of get quite annoying after a while.





Jet lag gets us all and I've read various ways advising how best to beat it, from keeping yourself awake on the flight to changing your eating habits on the last day to the new time zone that you're about to travel into. I haven't really found any magic cure, but I do have a couple of tiny tips for coping with it - Particularly in order to stop you from flaking at work or falling asleep during your reunion dinner/film/walk with a partner (both of which I've done many times).

Going West...
I find that going from East to West is generally easier to deal with and pretty simple. When you first land, no matter what time of day, try and stay awake long enough so that you go to bed around the same time as the natives. Get in the sunshine if you can. You'll naturally wake up early, but if you're on holiday this'll mean longer days and if you're away for work it'll mean you get to get more done. Avoid power dozes in the next few days that follow and you should be fine before the end of the first week.

Going East...
West to East is a different matter... You'll struggle to fall asleep at night and then, particularly if you're working away, spend much of the night panicking that you've got to get up in a few hours. Or, if you're on holiday, you'll risk kicking yourself for sleeping through most of the sunshine or days' activities. For this I usually take sleeping tablets. It's a bad habit to get into, I know (despite the ones I take being non-habit forming), but especially for work, I've found that this works for me. More natural remedies include a few drops of Lavender Oil on your pillow or supplements that contain Melatonin.

And just in case you're thinking of suing me (I'm talking to you, America) please don't take this as proper medical advice. I'm just musing about what works for me, so make sure you seek the advice of your practitioner if you need to.

Much love.

There, they're and their...

With the usual disclamaimers from me about writing quickly (excuses, excuses), this made me laugh today so I thought I'd share it...


A load of rubbish...

So today should be the last day of the "bin men strike" - It started on the 14th June and ends today, 20th June. About time, I say. If you're thinking of coming to Brighton this weekend, don't. After a few hot days it's very smelly about town. The seagulls have gone bananas (I saw one with a rib in its mouth yesterday) and no doubt the rats and foxes are on the sidelines waiting to pounce. 





(That banana skin's also an accident waiting to happen if you ask me).

Brighton and Hove City Council have asked people to use recycling and refuse facilities where possible. This has obviously caused some controversy as to what our Council Tax is for, etc., but if, like someone I heard of last night, you're thinking of not paying your Council Tax or reducing it due to this inconvenience, don't. This is a war we'll never win. Shame a I liked the idea of having a Green Party, but unfortunately it seems as though they're a little out of their depth.

Oh, and watch out when parking...




Wednesday 19 June 2013

It's nice to be important, but it's important to be nice...

You aren't going to believe this, but after a Home Alone 2 style dash through the airport (I only found out that I had a seat roughly 30 minutes before take off) I've gone from sitting in one of the jump seats to 37H to 35J to 31J to, yep you guessed it, 20D. Sounds like a pretty low number, eh? Again, I promise you I have never slept with a pilot.

I've said already how nice it is behind the curtain, so here are just a few pictures of the airport, the food (I got fed this time) and my feet, mostly. 





 
Coming into land at London Heathrow now so will sign off until something else happens that I feel obliged to write about, but thanks for reading. 

 
Lots of love.

12 Days in China. Day 12: What we Brits do best...



I met our Factory Director for afternoon tea today at the Peninsula Hotel, Kowloon. It's a beautiful hotel, a bit pricey, but if you have some budget left it's worth having high tea just for the experience.

For two, this was $350 HKD -ish each (around £35) and it was nice to talk about work, life and relax for a bit. By the second level up of the cake tray I was already full so it took a couple of food comas to get through. Make sure you get there early... The queue was very long. It starts at 2pm – 6pm and apparently at weekends you can end up queueing for hours. Also, there's a dress code so no shorts or flip flops.




Today has been a very rainy day and to put it into context, here are a few pictures. Fortunately our Factory Director loaned me his umbrella, but I was still soaked and my hair, in this humidity, was inconsolable.



I can't help but think that the universe is trying to prepare me for the British summertime...

Time to head to the airport and, being on standby, I've been a bit nervous all day that I won't get on the flight as it's very full. I've learned the hard way in life not to get stressed about things you can't control, so it's there in the back of my mind, but if the worst comes to the worst, I can always try again tomorrow.

12 Days in China. Day 11: Away from the bustle...



Today I wanted to get out of the city so I went to Lamma Island, which is a short ferry ride away and worked from there – a small Organic Cafe a short walk away from the port with a good wifi connection. It was like I was in a different country and very similar to any small, Asian island. There are no cars and you can walk around it in about an hour and a half. There are shops, restaurants and a couple of nice beaches. There are also big spiders so watch out if you're walking under any trees.





There's not much to say about this place other than if you want a break, I'd recommend it.

Last day tomorrow and just about ready to come home.


12 Days in China. Day 10: The window of death...




As a rule, I'd advise never looking in a window of a butchers in Hong Kong or mainland China. That shit will stay with you forever. This isn't one of the worst I've seen, but it ain't the best either. I'm not entirely sure what the stuff on the left is, but I've narrowed it down to goose neck or a snake of some sort. It looks a bit unhappy either way.



I feel I should say a little bit more about my hotel in Hong Kong, because it's generally pretty pricey to get hotels out here and this one is a bit of a gem.

Someone else at work books my travel and accommodation (and she always gets a little nervous, as do I, that she's stuck me in a dump – Like the time in San Francisco last year when there was a man shouting at the bin outside the lobby 24/7). However, she came up trumps this time – The Mini Hotel, Causeway Bay, HongKong, is now highly recommended. They upgraded me to a balcony room (I'm definitely on a roll with this upgrade thing at the moment) and it's been really nice being able to swing on the hammock chair and work from the balcony – Hot though, it's still pushing 30 degrees at night most days, but it's been raining on and off which helps with the humidity.


 

Causeway Bay is generally a great area to stay in. There's a lot of ex-pats there, so you don't get the usual stares (although I don't mind that so much as it's always amusing when people try to secretly take photos of you on the MTR/Underground – See below):



It's closeby to a 10+ floor shopping centre called Times Square, which also has Causeway Bay MTR under it so you can easily get around. It also is a short walk to Victoria Park and Happy Valley, which are both nice to go to if you just want to see some (very small) open space for a bit. The transport in Hong Kong is very cheap and puts the UK to shame. It's like they took all the good stuff about the UK and made it better. The subway system is so easy to navigate (as is the London Underground by the way, but theirs has LEDs of course)...


and a 20 minute journey in a taxi would cost you about £7 GBP, including toll fares. It costs more than that to get the mile from Hove to Brighton where I'm from. My 20 minute bus ride to Stanley set me back £0.89p. Again, that'd be pushing £4 - £5 in Brighton (despite us being the only council in the UK that has the Green Party).

Other things I've seen whilst I've been here (around working, I promise you I've still been doing plenty of that) and can recommend is Aqua Bar on Kowloon side. You get a Star Ferry (for 80p) to TST (Tsim Sha Tsui) and can watch the light show from there. Downstairs is a restaurant that does Northern Chinese cuisine and is absolutely beautiful. We had 8 hour-cooked chicken, which was promised to be the best chicken in the world and definitely was. Unless you want to sit in a restaurant for 8 hours, you'll need to order it in the morning before you go. The chef even comes out and lets you hit it with a wooden mallet, I'm still not entirely sure what that was about, but I took a big swing anyway.

And in true “social media” style, here's another picture of food:




The view of Hong Kong from Kowloon side is absolutely breathtaking and if you're there at night, it's worth watching the light show from TST which takes place at 8pm every night and is a very good indicator of where our global warming problems come from. No matter how often I see the night skyline though, it actually always catches my breath. This visit I also went up to Victoria Peak – Take the tram (if you're brave enough, it's pretty steep) and on a clear day, when they happen, you'll get the most amazing view of the whole of Honkers and surrounding islands. The air is also a little cleaner up there too so it's a nice break from the usual pollution of which there is plenty.






I've never been up there at night, but I imagine it's ridiculous. One for my list next time.


12 Days in China. Day 9: The Chinese Cockermouse...



Checked out of China today and as I walked towards the lift I noticed what can only be described as a very fast; very big; bigger than a cockroach, but smaller than a rat (therefore I've taken inspiration from HIMYM); COCKERMOUSE. It darted behind the bin before I had chance to catch a pic (and I certainly wasn't going behind there after it), but it definitely wasn't from this world. Let's hope it managed to catch the lift and will be gone into the wilderness forever.

So I've mentioned this a fair bit, but coming back to Hong Kong from some long days in China is like a breath of fresh air (not literally, it's smog-central). It was almost emotional coming up the escalator with “California Dreamin'” on my iPod. I was giddy.

The first thing I did was check back into my HK hotel and wash China clean off me. The second thing I did was visit Stanley Market (it was Dragon Boat day, but I missed the Dragon Boats) and eat a big burger. Bliss.


You get to Stanley Market from Causeway Bay (I'm staying at the Mini Hotel, it's very nice) by taking the bus from the back of Times Square on Hennesey Road – They run every 15 minutes and the bus usually takes about 20 minutes to get there, but it was a little bit busy (think Bank Holiday traffic) today. I got off at Stanley Plaza (after being very amused by the videos on the bus – see below)...


 and had a burger at Classifieds, a nice casual restaurant in the Plaza. There was a band playing that wasn't very in tune or in time, but the crowd seemed to like them. 

 
Stanley has a beach, a shopping centre and a market. It's good for just wandering around for a couple of hours. You can buy knick-knacks and “tat” (which is great for me because I have a shelf dedicated to the stuff at home) or knock-off handbags if you're into that sort of thing. Speaking of which, the market at the Shenzen/Hong Kong border is overflowing with knock off everything. Although I'm very in to brands because of my job I'm not a massive label hound to be honest, but I did have an amusing moment this morning in the Shenzen market where one of the sellers asked me, “Ray Bans?” and I replied, “I've already have some.” Her, “Hunters?” Me, “I already have some.” “Marc Jacobs?”, “Got it.” - She gave up in the end.

Anyway, back to Stanley... I bought a magnet for our fridge at home and our “ugly boiler” at work. This one in particular made me laugh a lot:


Toodles.

12 Days in China. Day 8: Hitting the wall (not that wall)...



In the last two days I've clocked up 34 hours of work and had about 6 hours' sleep. I'm knackered, but pleased to be going back to Hong Kong tomorrow afternoon. The light at the end of the tunnel is almost here. In Hong Kong I'll still be putting the hours in, but it's a nicer environment in which to do it and the food is much better.

I've become obsessed with food and can't stop thinking about it. I wake up hungry, but don't eat anything until lunchtime. At lunch we'll either go for a McDonald's (which probably isn't a real McDonald's – everything is fake here) or for Chinese food. Chinese food here means lots of fat and lard. I had cabbage last night, which was cooked in lard. I had pork that had a 3:1 fat to meat ratio. Rice is safe, but the water they wash it in isn't. They had a real problem over here a while back with fake baby milk formula. A lot of babies died and now it's even illegal to import baby milk from Hong Kong to China – You're limited to how much you can bring over, much like you are in the Western world with cigarettes or alcohol, but this is because the Chinese are desperate for baby milk formula that isn't harmful and (I believe) the Chinese government want to crack down on illegal sales of the good stuff. Pretty messed up, eh.



For dinner most of this week and last I've had Chinese food, which despite the above sounding like it's horrendous, is the safest bet really. The worst I've experienced is when the restaurants attempt to make Western food: Spaghetti Bolognaise swimming in grease or a club sandwich with florescent pink ham that would probably glow in the dark (I ended up with two slices of toast that time after taking out the tomatoes because of the chemicals they spray them with, the eggs because of the carcinogenics they inject to make the yolks yellow and the aforementioned nuclear ham).

Each time I've come back here over the last few years, the food has gotten marginally better though. There's even a new restaurant/bar called “JR's” which has not-too-bad food. It also had pictures of London dotted around (which was nice) and a Christmas tree in the corner (which was even nicer).




Anyway, off the the market in Shenzen tomorrow morning before heading back to Honkers for the National Holiday.

Almost there...

12 Days in China. Day 6: The morning after...



Wow. Hungover is not the word. I think I'm dying and I'm NEVER DRINKING AGAIN. OK, we've all said that before, but I'm pretty close now. Hangovers just seem to kick me in the face that little bit harder the older I get.

Last night (Saturday - remember the Firewall) I went out with my team member and our Factory Director. Our supplier is fantastic. He's Canadian/Chinese so has that western mentality (meaning he gets what we want with no communication problems and I know he treats his worker very fairly) but speaks Cantonese, Mandarin and understands the Chinese culture (meaning we don't get ripped off by other suppliers, which is commonplace over here when doing business).

Some people frown upon Chinese manufacturing, but that's just the way the world works – If a consumer wants nice things that work commercially, the Far East has it covered and has successfully won the business of the modern world. We simply couldn't keep up on mass-volume. Perhaps this'll change in the future, and I'd love to see some manufacturing coming back to the UK, but for the moment it doesn't yet seem to be viable.

Anyway, this is far too deep for my hangover. Let's talk about prostitution instead (you heard me)...


Last night we went out in Hong Kong and ended up in the Wan Chai district. This place has lots of bars and clubs and, I quickly learned, has a high popularity in those bars for men seeking the company of ladies. After about 10 seconds of walking into the bar I clocked that pretty much every man in there (Western) was with a girl (Asian). God knows what they thought of us three... A blonde, Western looking girl; a very white skinny man; and a short Chinese-looking fellow with perfect English.

Each to their own I guess, I'm not one to judge, but it does make me a little sad on both sides to see this. I've been to Thailand, Bali and other areas in Asia and Indonesia where this is commonplace and although it doesn't shock me anymore, it does make me wonder how these girls got into this situation and how or why the men justify taking advantage of it (or if they didn't, where would the girls be perhaps). I've seen it happen the other way round (with well-off Western women and young Thai males) and arguably the customer is often the one being taken for the ride (no pun intended) – The “salespeople” are certainly by no means stupid, but either way it's one of those accepted things because there seems to not be any way out of the circle, but it still makes me feel awkward about being in its presence.

I did drink a lot of gin though and did end up on my balcony room putting the world to rights with my co-worker until 5am. Not sure I'll be going for Manager of the Year award any time soon, but I think it's important to let people rant and rant we did.


Off to a meeting now, assuming I can see straight and make it to the train station. A hungover meeting is my speciality, but like I say I'm not sure I can keep it up for too much longer. I'm generally pretty healthy so I'm blaming the jet lag.

12 Days in China. Day 4: The Great Firewall of China...



Today I'm over in mainland China. I've been here quite a few times, it's where our manufacturing is magically performed, and I think this is my fourth time over in Hong Kong - Usually I'll go over to the factory 2-3 times during a trip, but I always come back to Hong Kong at the weekends. It's not that China isn't nice, I'm a big fan of all cultures and can stay in nice places and right dives, but the hours are brutal. The factory is open from 8am – 6pm with hour breaks for lunch at 12pm and dinner at 6pm, but I then head back to whichever hotel I'm staying at, which usually has a karaoke floor and a “massage” floor (this one is no exception), and work well into the early hours – It's currently 2am and I'm still going strong. I need to be up in 5 hours. The most depressing thing is when our UK office logs off and I'm still working. But, that's just the nature of travelling with the time zone this way round – If I go to the US, it's much better as I catch up when I wake up early and then they all bugger off by around midday so I'm left to do as I please as long as I'm caught up by the time they wake up again.

Pretty tired this end, so I'll just give you the highlights of my day:

This is the view in China...



This is the view in Hong Kong...


This is the food in China...



This is the food in Hong Kong...


Below is a bit of both – China on the left, Hong Kong on the right.



This is the bridge border crossing. Whenever I cross this to go back it's almost emotional. Again, this isn't because I have anything against China particularly, but it's long hours with little sleep, the food isn't the best, it's hot, smoky, dusty and bustly and it's rare that you'll see the outside of your hotel room or the office as it's not particularly safe for a girl to walk by herself (unlike Hong Kong where it's extremely safe and crime is very low). After a few days of being holed up, working constantly when you're not trying to get some food down you or sleeping, it's a relief to get back to a city that feels a little more like home.

My limit is four consecutive days. Today is day 3 of this first shift and I go back to Hong Kong tomorrow (Saturday). We leave at 7am. I come back on Monday morning (after breakfast) and stay until Wednesday morning because it's a National Holiday in China on Wednesday – Thank goodness for Dragon Boat Festivals. :)

Unfortunately I'm having to write this in bulk and plan to post in one go once I'm back as the “Great Firewall of China” prevents me from getting on to a lot of websites. Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, BBC News and Google are either all banned or part-censored (particularly the news). As a frequent visitor, but with fairly short trips, you don't get a true feel for the difference in a Communist environment to our own, but these little things you notice and also, when talking to people who live or work here, you realise some people's lack of knowledge of world news. It's no North Korea and everyone seems very happy (one of our team actually saying how a Communist government is needed because there are so many people), but it's strange to think of anything being censored coming from a part of the world where we have so much access to everything. Anyway, let's not put the world to rights at 2.15am – I've still plenty of work to do.

See you on the other side.

12 days in China. Day 0.5: What's behind the curtain...



I must be about just over an hour into my 11 hour flight to Hong Kong and already enough has happened to make me think that by the time we cross over the Middle East... OK, poor choice of region, by the time we cross over... Ok, I just can't avoid it. Now you've got me on a tangent I didn't mean to go over. By the time we're five hours in? There, thats it. It wouldn't surprise me if the Captain and his First Officers have performed a burlesque routine through the cabin and Justin Timberlake has decided to juggle a packet of mixed nuts, a life jacket and a bowling ball.

Just for the record, Justin Timberlake is not on this flight.

And also, I'm yet to see a bowling ball, but I have seen some mixed nuts and a life jacket.

We were delayed. That's normal really. I've flown enough this year (I'll backtrack and get to all that one day) to know that being delayed is an OK thing to happen. Things go wrong. Bits fall off. As long as they stick them back on again before we fly, I don't particularly mind a bit of a delay. Plus, they usually always manage to make the time up so no doubt we'll land at exactly the time we're supposed to land and nobody will be any the wiser. This does sometimes make me wonder why, if they are able to put their foot down, they don't do this every time but I do not know of such things and do not claim to. If there's one thing that winds me up (and there's a few, obviously) it's people who think they know better than everyone else and love to shout their opinion about the place. Actually, that does sound a bit like me but at least nobody seems to notice when I'm doing it. Or I'm that obnoxious that I don't notice. Anyway...

Funny shit just seems to find me.

Like the homeless man that me and my friend, Tim, managed to get a picture with (including his emu) after we watched the cricket for free. And the ball, whilst the players were having tea (tea?!) that almost twatted me in the stomach and cracked a good chunk of my ribs but missed me by a few millimetres. OK, centimetres. OK, it was the seat next to me, but if we'd just taken our seats that tiny bit sooner I'd be a goner. Or at least a few ribs down.




That was in about 20 minutes on a very nondescript Saturday. I dread to think what else is about to happen on this flight.

So, apart from the awkward moment when one of the pilots comes over to my seat to say hello (the reason why is very boring and I won't be divulging, but I assure you that I haven't slept with a pilot) it all started off very normal...

There I was. In seat 34B. A respectable seat number (and bra size, fnar fnar) when one of the cabin crew came over and delighted me with the news that I had been upgraded. Now you can imagine my glee at this. I immediately posted a picture to Facebook, I was that pleased. This also makes me nervous because knowing my friends they'll have clocked on to the fact that I'm offline for the next 12 hours, but I hope they're still that little bit nice that they won't do anything too bad.

Today is my 23rd flight of the year and I've been on 'em all... The lovely British Airways, Virgin Atlantic, Monarch, more EasyJets that I wish to mention, Vuelling (who I didn't know existed but who are wholly responsible for my fear of propeller planes), FlyBe, Ryanair... I have to say that my favourite airline is BA because the staff are so lovely (and I'm probably being biased and I still promise you, I haven't slept with a pilot). Virgin Atlantic staff are also lovely and the others too by the way, but after the turbulence on the way to Vegas back in January (where I definitely started eyeing up 'Spotify man' next to me for his thighs just in case we crashed over Greenland) I just can't look a Virgin flight in the eye again. Until work book me on another one, of course.

ANYWAY, I was really pleased about the upgrade.

(A rather arrogant menu title...)

After months of being kicked in the back, elbowed in the face, having a video camera (that can only be described as something the 80s gave back) land on my head, screaming children, screaming adults (that's you, Mr Spotify), screaming cabin crew (bloody turbulence) I think I deserve this upgrade. I've earned this upgrade. Ok, I've pretty much blagged this upgrade, but I'm going to enjoy it.  

Except for one thing... I hate being served by anyone.

I'm too polite. Something kicks in, which is either me as a shy-ish 9 year old girl who had her front teeth knocked out the day before the local village carnival princess competition and came runner up to bloody Stephanie Samson (damn you, Stephanie Samson*) or it's my Britishness, which means that I'm unable to accept any form of help from anyone without thanking them to the point of being shoved into a padded cell and muttering in a corner “thank you so much, thank you so much” over and over.

*names may have been changed to avoid a law suit – I've no idea if “Stephanie Samson” went on to become Miss World.

For instance, I had to give up my food (not for good) because they weren't expecting me to be in First Class, but I figure there's enough nutrition in the Bloody Marys I've been necking that it'll be just fine. Juuuuuust. Fiiiiiiiiiiine. I am pretty hungry though. I have a member of my team travelling with me this time (ooooh, another human) and he's in Economy class. He also has been grazing all bloody day because I've done a very good job of warning him about the Chinese cuisine so I've a good mind to go back there and demand his dinner off him. I'm kidding, I promise. But did I say to the lovely First Class attendant, “actually, I am rather hungry so if you are able to bring me a little bit of food on this flight that lasts half a day, in which I would usually eat around 2-3 meals, that'd be great”... Did I? No. I just smiled and said “of course, that's fine”. And what will be will be. Perhaps I'll end up joining Justin Timberlake and I don't even know how to be a burlesque dancer. Bit weird for me. These Bloody Marys have quite the kick to them.

So, what is behind the curtain? Well. For starters, the seats with the pull out foot thing that magically makes a bed are AWESOME. Seriously. A very simple idea, but a brilliant one. The pillows are more comfortable. You get little cubby holes in which to keep stuff. I got a wash bag with all sorts of nice smelly things in (including the socks – Not for long, I hear you) and an eye-mask which I can't see the point of whatsoever because the only time I've even attempted to wear one I ended up spending 4 hours fearful of my eyelash extensions rather than sleeping. The cabin crew are just as nice, but you get pretty much anything you ask for. Rum, gin, champagne, champagne cocktails, cocktails... You'll notice I'm unable to comment on the food, but the others have had a four course masterpiece around me. The films are the same, but the headphones are much better. The seat turns into a bed and as someone who is constantly tired and on the brink of a power doze, that's all I'm interested in really.




The blankets are also supposed to be nicer, but I had to give my one away... Which leads to my “G&T Man” story.

I like G&T, don't get me wrong. Some might say it was my no. 1 choice of tipple. But my memory of getting plastered on Tanqueray with my friend from California, in San Jose last year and ending up doing “Jello” shots in a bar and then heading for the hot tub to eat pretty much all of the mini-bar (mostly Pringles and Rice Krispie cakes laced with naughty stuff that another friend from San Diego had given me without us realising at the time) has now been trumped by Mr G&T.

For starters. Apparently, before I got into First Class he'd already been moved four times. I'm not sure of the detail, but I know this because when the in-flight screens failed to work meaning that the cabin crew had to revert to the old-school way of doing the safety announcement, he took great pleasure in telling all of our cabin how “this airline has gone downhill”. I personally don't think it has.

The next thing to happen was me realising that I couldn't get out of my little cubby hole seated area without stepping over his foot rest thing (as the seats face each other until you put the impersonal screen thing up), which I attempted to do but ended up kicking his big toe meaning that he then stood up when I was on my way back and I immediately slipped into British-mode and apologised profusely for about 20 minutes.

Then, they had to reset the entire flight's screens because the majority of them still weren't working. Given that there hasn't been a riot yet, I presume that these have now been fixed down back.

Mr G&T was pretty angry by this time. Not only have I kicked him in the big toe, but he's also had to move four times, and the cabin crew have had to give a manual demonstration of his safety procedure, and his screen has stopped working, and then...

He knocks his G&T over himself. Badly. It goes everywhere and his blanket becomes part of the clean up operation.

I'm not quite sure what to do in such a situation. Fortunately, the wizards who designed the First Class cabin also had the foresight to put little privacy screens up so I raised my screen and hid for a little bit. Mr G&T obviously blamed the “has-been airline” for this and does the other typically British thing of complaining and being unreasonable whilst saying the words, “I hate complaining and being unreasonable.”

Now. Because I'm technically an imposter, the cabin crew member has a brain wave and our eyes meet at almost the same time. Mine are saying, “oh noooo, I've just worked out how to move the seat backwards and forwards” and hers are saying, “up you get, sister.” So, she nods, I nod. I give up my seat. 

Fortunately, the rest of the cabin is pretty empty (who knew?) so she tells me I can have my pick of the crop. Obviously this is far too awkward for me, so I just take the nearest one to me, which means I'm now on an aisle as opposed to a window and every time the guy behind the screen next to me needs serving, miss cabin lady has to lean across me to give him his food (which I promptly drool over). Oh how quickly my mindset has changed. Two hours ago I was crammed into in 34B, ignoring the sleeping Chinese man to my left and hoping the crazy Australian on my right wasn't out to kill me for taking the middle seat when he was so desperate for a no-show and extra room (you're welcome, mate). And now, here I am. In First Class questioning the interior design decisions.

Other stuff so far?
  • It's really rather weird taking off facing backwards, although I'm now facing forwards in my new seat so I like that this'll become some sort of sweeping survey for me.
  • It's also really weird being so close to the front for take off as you feel loads more than you notice when at the back.
  • Money cannot buy manners. Frequently I've thought to myself, “it's nice to be important, but it's important to be nice.”
  • You're trusted with real knives, forks, plates and glass. Who ever heard of a terrorist taking out a payday loan, eh?
  • Typing the word “terrorist” on a flight, no matter how irrelevant to anything, still gives you the heeby jeebies.
  • My new neighbour is a Professor and very regularly gets told “it's OK – we'll have a glass of port for you as soon as possible.”
So, that's about it for now. I don't know what else is going to happen, I never do, but I'll try and write some of it down and see if it becomes amusing for you.

With love.