Monday December 22nd, 2014

The exercise:

Write about: holiday travel.

Always such a pain, it seems. Every year it feels like at least one person I know gets utterly screwed by this busiest time of the year for travel.

This year? Becky and Natalie. Their plane didn't come in last night due to fog. So the airline, brilliantly, sent another plane this morning to collect the passengers scheduled to leave early this morning... except it was smaller than the original, fully booked aircraft. Next available flight for those who couldn't board this one (which included Becky and Natalie, naturally)? December 24th.

So Becky decided to drive.

They got all the way from Dawson Creek to Merritt today, which leaves them about three more hours on the road before they get here tomorrow. At which point I imagine she will sleep for the rest of the day while Natalie runs around in circles with Max.

Because, you know, kids.

Mine:

The roads are packed,
Airports overflowing -
How is anyone supposed
To get where they're going?

Is this supposed to be a bus,
Or a giant can of sardines?
Elbows in my ribs help me
Forget what this season means.

I think next year
I'll get comfy, chant an om
(Or five hundred), and simply
Refuse to leave my home.

Wednesday September 29th, 2010

The exercise:

Today we get to write about: the travel agent.

I ended up having to be my own travel agent yesterday when I booked our honeymoon flights. For some reason it actually ended up being cheaper to buy the tickets there and back separately, rather than as a round-trip. Whatever.

So yeah, we're going to Jamaica at the end of January/start of February for two weeks. I shall write more about this another time.

Mine:

"Please have a seat, Agent Travel," the man in the black suit and sunglasses says, pointing to the chair on the opposite side of the patio table.

"Honestly Tom," I reply as I take my seat and pick up the menu in one motion, "we should be on a first name basis by now! Call me Time."

"But we've only just met."

"Er... right, of course. My mistake." I knew I should have grabbed a paper to check the date before I arrived. "You were saying?"

"We have a new assignment for you." Always we. Never the government. Never the president. Just plain old we. "A research scientist by the name of Jason Boyle is on the run with some very sensitive documents. We need them back."

Oh, crap. The Boyle Case. They'll be talking about this one for years to come.

"I see," I say, perusing the dessert selection to stall for time. "As it turns out, I'm quite familiar with Mr. Boyle." If only he knew. "Unfortunately, he is also aware of me - he'd see me coming a mile away. I'm just not the man for this job. I think that Agent Matthews, however, would be a most excellent fit."

Honestly, I do feel quite bad about sending Matthews to a certain death. But hey, better him than me, right?

Sunday March 7th, 2010

The exercise:

Your assignment today: tell me a travel story (preferably a real one).

Mine:

Yesterday's big purchase has got me reminiscing about the first and only other "car" I ever purchased. Hmm? Oh yes, those quotation marks are quite intentional.

When I decided to go backpacking in New Zealand toward the end of 2003 I thought it would be best to get around in a car (no quotation marks there, I'm sure you've noticed). This was a bad idea for several reasons and the way I went about it only made it worse.

You see, I knew absolutely nothing about cars. And I didn't have a whole lot of money to spend on one. Pile on top of that the desire to get a car before I left Auckland and hit the countryside and I might as well have tattooed Sucker across my forehead.

So there I was, the day after I arrived from Vancouver (I believe it was about a 14 hour flight from LA but it's been a while and I can't be bothered to double check), going car shopping. Sadly, I was unable to find a car. I did, however, find a very nice lemon.

It was cheap. It was old. It was small. I only needed something for six months so I thought it was perfect.

When it stopped being able to go faster than 60 km/h I began to suspect I had chosen poorly.

When the engine began overheating so badly I had to pull over every fifteen minutes I thought maybe I should have shopped around a little more.

When the reverse stopped working I had to admit defeat (I still kept driving it for another month or so).

It was quite the experience though. I met a lot of very nice locals along the side of the road who stopped to see if I needed help. I could do a lot more sightseeing since I was forced to travel so slowly. It really did transform the first two months of my trip into something I could have never predicted.

But... been there, done that. I'm hoping this one will go much more smoothly :)

Also: in searching the blog to make sure I hadn't told this story before I came across this other car-related New Zealand post. Man, I need to get back there one day. I'm absolutely positive Kat would love it there.