Flying long distance on the cheap

Economy, long-haul, pleasant, quiet; All adjectives that are expected in a sentence riddled with sarcasm when describing any long distance flight trapped in inexpensive class.

My experience with Japan Airlines was as expected, complete with crying babies, weak bladdered individuals and my curse of being unable to sleep on public transport. Fortunately, the duration of the flight had enough entertainment to keep me occupied.

Flying economy alone is like a lottery but as I stepped onto the plane I felt my numbers were about to come in. As I narrowed in on my allotted space for the next ten hours, there sat two wide eyed smiling faces pinned on me, I mirrored their gesture and beamed back at them. Stowing my bag in the overhead, a confused, lost elderly man became caught in my peripheral. He had just been informed that his seat was on the other side of the plane and was now attempting to make his way round. The pensioner was not alone and was leaving behind his wife, who was seated directly in front of me. Thinking back on it now, the separation may well have been planned, but after glancing at his ticket, then to his designated seat and finally casting my eye along my row I tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Excuse me, would you like to swap seats to be closer to your wife?’ I said loudly and within earshot of his partner, how could he refuse? Graciously the man accepted and we then spent the next few moments awkwardly manoeuvring around the cramped cabin to get to where each of us were going. Walking away from the interaction I felt a deep satisfaction and that I was about to be rewarded. My prize was a seat in the centre of a kindergarten, all members seemingly pumped full of sugar as they bounced from wall to wall. The Japanese man now sitting next to me was a ‘Cola’ addict who refused to acknowledge my existence and took it upon himself to pompously wave his empty glass around as a signal for a refill. Camel he was not and constant toilet breaks were his speciality. I hit the whiskey.

Meanwhile nearly a day in front of me, Alicia had just completed her own hellish journey across the Pacific Ocean. Flying with China Southern, her trip had a long wait in Guangzhou, China. Looking for a ‘pick me up’ it led her into the solitary airport cafe. There she ordered a standard coffee only to be told it would cost $17! Thinking that there must be a mistake in the currency conversion or the server must have misread a decimal place, a recheck was requested. Coming back with the same figure, the employee attempted to justify their company’s pricing by stating the coffee was “special” as it was only produced in China. The punch line was delivered with such dead pan sincerity that all Alicia could do was laugh and walk away.

Coffee-less and lacking in sleep she made her way to the plane in the hope of some ailment. Sadly all her cabin experience involved was a whining Korean man seated directly behind who persisted in making my girlfriend’s entire twelve hour journey as uncomfortable as possible. Being unable to handle a chair at anything more than a 90 degree angle, he kicked, shook and moaned despairingly to display his distaste. Attempting an intervention a Chinese flight attendant tried to calm the situation and requested Alicia put her seat to it’s upright position. Caffeine and sleep deprived, she indicated vigorously to the slumbering cabin that no one else had a problem and this was her paid seat. The attendant left satisfied she had done all she could and so the barrage of thumps, shakes and whines continued.

© John Brownlie 2012

Do you have any interesting economy travel stories?

Last day, final betrayal

As far as final impressions go, Korea’s had left a bitter taste in my mouth.

For myself and my girlfriend the past several months had been filled with the morning song from construction workers arbitrarily banging their hammers and shouting directions at large heavy goods vehicles apparently incapable of moving from A to B into the lot next to us.

For my last day it was no different, the routine wake up before six with the sound of construction and the daily shouts from the workers. Battling to attempt sleep, with the commotion outside and my mind beginning to process and organise my thoughts had me at a stalemate.

Laying down I was interrupted by a sound unique to the norm. Originating from my front door had the whole house shake with each strike. I ignored the merciless early morning beating of my residence as the windows shook and groaned with the pounding upon the door. After a while the vibrations and noise ceased and I was left with the ever continuing swan song of building. I took the brief respite as an omen to move from bedroom to kitchen and start the day. I set the kettle to boil and grabbed the only working mobile to send a text to my landlord detailing my departure and the door code for the apartment. With the water now escaping to a shrill I poured it over the last of the coffee and scanned the empty apartment. I ran some hot water for a shower and stripped down as my coffee began to cool.

Without warning the apartment began to shake once more to the pummelling of a small Korean’s fist again at my door. I ignored it thinking they’ll return from whence they came. But as I heard the door code being successfully entered I had to scramble to find some clothes. The fist belonged to my tiny Korean landlord as she sauntered in barely missing me in my birthday suit.

Apparently my text message explaining my itinerary had not been clear enough as she covered her eyes against sin. She soon left apologising, but vowing to return soon. With the possibility of a short term sentence for indecent exposure I showered and clothed in record time.

On her reappearance the landlord wanted nothing more than to go over the utility meters with me. We then said our goodbyes and she was gone. In 20 minutes, with my coffee drunk I had closed the door on my apartment for the last time and was carrying my backpack brimming with my life for the next nine months. A short fifteen minute hike to the subway, two stops then a change to the airport train was all that was required. The journey to the airport was uneventful, exhausting and sweat-filled with the maximum luggage allowance strapped tightly to my back.

Triumphantly though, I arrived at Incheon International Airport with the difficult part behind me I just had to make it to check-in. Grabbing the nearest trolley I removed the 20kg tumour from my back and wheeled it to the desk. Fifty passengers stood between me and unburdening my beast of a bag for the next thirteen hours. I took advantage of the wait and the free Wi-Fi to check e-mails. One immediately caught my eye ‘URGENT’ from my old boss. ‘John, your landlord says she has to pay 400,000w for the wallpaper and she wants you to pay for half’.

The wallpaper in question was covering the majority of the house that had become infested with black furry poisonous mould. The same mould that had my girlfriend sick with violent coughing, endless sleepless nights, headaches not to mention spending over a month’s salary on x-rays, blood tests and all sorts of medication. The same wallpaper that we had to rip down layer by layer finding several unsuccessful attempts at burying the loathsome repulsive dark fungus. The lack of circulation, warmth and humidity all had inadvertently bred a master race of evil spores. After finding these unpleasant treasures all over the house we informed our landlord who failed to understand the severity of the situation and advised us to take care of it ourselves. So we did, with a couple of pairs of rubber gloves, several litres of bleach, nail varnish and duct tape.

The war was fought and won during the Spring of 2011 with Alicia and myself being victorious. It took an incredible amount of time, money and patience but we had succeeded. And now a forgotten undecorated war veteran was being taken advantage of.

The only mobile I had was used to call the landlord who had sided with the enemy. As my voice uninhibitedly exploded down the phone at her audacious behaviour I became aware that the conversation was clearly not private. With an ever increasing amount of eyes the performer in me excelled on the attention and I was now the fist to the traitor’s home, rocking her world. I challenged the deceiver to justify what she had quoted to my manager, her explanation was inadequate for what she was expecting of me. I finished the call feeling redundant, going back to face her would be overwhelming satisfying but for £120 and the cost of a new plane ticket logically it wouldn’t be worth it but that sure as hell would be a story to tell.

I related the battle of mould and the lackadaisical attitude of the Judas to my manager, he empathised and after some back and forth between the two of them he was able to reduce the fee. By that time the check in was over and I had just finished with security and with just under an hour I was ready to wash my hands of the whole affair. I accepted the counter offer thanked my manager and turned off my phone.

© John Brownlie 2012

The waiting game with North Korea

The cool air blasting on to us from the ceiling air duct was a welcome relief from the exterior suffocating heat of Seoul’s concrete centre. The banker positioned opposite us was somewhat flustered by his lack of useful banking English and had been bumbling his way through the transaction. The glitter from his exotic tie occasionally sparkling in the light as his fingers furiously danced on the computer keyboard. The waltz of the digits came to a sudden end and a piece of paper was shoved under our noses, ‘OK’ said the anxious man before taking a bow and indicating that this interaction was terminated. ‘OK? When will the money arrive?’ we asked. ’48 hours’ came the abrupt reply.

The money had gone to a tour agency based in Europe that specialised in tours both into and out of North Korea. It boasted years of experience in getting people like us to them. ‘Them’ being one of the most secretive and problematic countries of the modern world and ‘us’ being two teachers – an American and a Brit – living and working in Seoul, the capital of the avowed enemy country of ‘them’.

Notification actually came the same day. We were told that the money had been received and our places had been reserved for a May 2012 tour. That was the easy part. The trick now was for this tour agency based in Europe to convince the North Koreans to grant us a visa. That would take time.

In fact, as much as a month prior to the tour start date.

And so began the long and laborious waiting game to enter North Korea. Our contribution to this game was not only money but also time and patience. In August 2011 we had all three, but as the days began to get increasingly shorter so did our patience.

Aside from work to keep us occupied, we began pulling videos and documentaries off the Internet, reading accounts from people who had travelled there and keeping a close eye on the news in trepidation that our neighbours in the north would do something to jeopardise our chances of acquiring a visa.

The leaves had begun to change colour and we still had not received word. So we contacted the local agency where we had begun the whole process and were starkly told: ‘When we know, you’ll know.’

With that cold and indefinite response, we left them to it.

On December 19th Kim Jong Il died. Alicia and I watched as North Korea put on a show of intense sorrow for the loss of their ‘Dear leader’. Every citizen had to look despairingly grief-stricken both for the local and foreign media. Uncontrollable wailing, hammering of the ground, fake tears, were all pictures seen by a mostly disbelieving international audience.

Apprehensive of how the change of power in the north might affect our travel plans, we waited to hear from the agency. One day, two, three, and then a week. Nothing. We emailed and they responded in their usual curt manner: ‘When we know, you’ll know.’

There was now snow on the ground; a far cry from that sweltering summer day in the bank and we were still none the wiser. With every passing moment, flights were getting more and more expensive but with our hands tied and our patience thinned all we could do was let the agency know of our displeasure. Then, almost out of the blue, the response was somewhat more informative than previously ‘We told you, it can be as late as a month before. We will be sending more information shortly.’

And so they did.

We were informed as to how we were to present our fictitious background to the North Koreans. First, we were not allowed to disclose that we had been living and working in South Korea. Second, we were to lie stating that we came from Australia. Additionally, to indulge the country’s patriarchal views and much to my amusement, we were to state that we were married. I was to be designated as the breadwinner with Alicia dubbed as ‘the housewife’.

Us lying to the North Korean government was not the biggest shock nor was it that one look at our passport would reveal us telling king-size porkies. What the Europe-based agency also required was for Alicia’s family to become involved in the visa process by having their details passed on to North Korea and then having a diplomat contact them to verify our story.

This bombshell was announced just six weeks prior to the trip. Whilst we would not be entirely against us two fabricating the truth to gain entry, requesting a family member to falsify a testimony was totally out of the question.

That for us, coupled with the escalating price of flights was provocation enough for us to cancel.

Sadly, North Korea will have to wait.

© John Brownlie 2012

Going round the world in the 21st century

So we’ve now got our e-tickets and seeing them on the computer screen and having a hard copy printed out somewhat loses the magic and allure of my envision of a ‘Round the World’ ticket.

Much like Charlie Bucket and Grandpa Joe jumping around the shack with the golden ticket in hand I half expected a similar feeling before this whole process began.  But the ordeal of having to give the travel specialist a detailed itinerary of where we will be, when we will be leaving, what we will be eating, where we’ll be sitting, takes away from the adventure of what I wanted it to be like.

What I craved for was our own golden tickets giving us exclusivity to the pre-determined countries, at any time on any flight. But I guess going gold costs more than we have.

We have two more possible destinations that we are waiting on; China and North Korea. If the latter grants  us a visa we will spend six days in May visiting the most secluded country on Earth.

6-8 weeks travelling from west coast to east.

That will effect how much time we have to spend in the USA, but it should be between six to eight weeks beginning in the middle or end of May. We plan to arc across the country beginning in San Diego, CA and ending in Alicia’s Boston, MA.

With the dates now finalised for our trip, we leave July 19th 2012, from New York to Cancun, Mexico.

We will spend 17 days in North/Central America, in Mexico and Guatemala. From there we fly to Quito, Ecuador.

47 days will be spent in South America, spread across Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Brazil.

47 days will be spent in South America, spread across Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Brazil.

Then we fly onto Paris at the end of September and travel to the north of  England.

18 days spent, now in early October we are onto Marrakesh, Morocco, we then work our way east across the south of Europe our destination, Istanbul, Turkey. Hitting Spain, Andorra, France (again), Italy, and Greece along the way. Before heading back to northern Africa;  Cairo, Egypt.  This third leg is spread across 50 days.

68 days in Europe and N.Africa

By the end of November we move into the final parts of our journey; Mumbai, India. There we plan to spend almost two months travelling the country. After over 240 days travelling we make our final flight to Taipei, Taiwan to catch the Chinese New Year and hopefully find a teaching job.

We will be posting more detailed information of what we are planning to do on each leg of the trip in each respective country over the course of the next few months.

If any similar trips have been made or you would like to share your experiences about the countries then please leave a comment.

Thanks for reading.

© John Brownlie 2012

World here we come

Red = Overland / Green = Flights

So last week Alicia and I booked our ‘Round the World’ tickets. We used Airtreks as they were the most reasonably priced.

I use the phrase ‘Round the World’ lightly, as we are in fact only going as far as Taiwan where we plan to teach English for a year.

So we start in San Diego, USA and work our way cross country, stopping at the Grand Canyon, Texas, New Orleans, Florida, D.C. and New York. Before heading to Alicia’s Beantown.

Then the journey begins; we fly to Cancun, Mexico, to see some Mayan temples and sites. Then heading south to Guatemala City via Flores, Tikal and Antigua.

Hopping on a plane to Ecuador, where we hope to get some extreme sports action. South again, through Peru catching the sunrise at Machu Picchu and doing some sand boarding near the Nazca lines. Climbing up Lake Titicaca and veering east to La Paz, Bolivia straight onto Rio de Janerio and Sao Paulo, Brazil.

Changing continents to Europe, landing in Paris and then overland to the U.K. heading north to my home town, Baildon outside of Bradford. Back to London, fly to Marrakech, ferry to Spain. Eastwards via Madrid, Barcelona, Andorra, Monaco, Rome, Milan, Athens, Istanbul, then south to Cairo before heading to India.

We plan to travel for seven months, from May 2012 – February 2013.

We’ll be visiting 17 different countries* across four continents and over 50 cities.

The tickets cost £2082 ($3294), not including the flight for India to Taiwan, around  £370 ($590)**

We’ve budgeted about £12,500 ($20,000) spending money.

* This may change as we are currently waiting on a visa for North Korea, if successful we will be there for six days via Beijing.

** We were unable to book tickets more than a year in advance.

© John Brownlie 2012

The Octopus and I

Something I have always wanted to do since I watched Oldboy eight years ago was eat a live octopus.

Today I finally decided to do it and went to Noryangjin, Seoul. Once there I bought two octopuses – by accident, as I only wanted one – and went to a nearby restaurant, where a much needed beer was readied to wash the cephalopod down.

This is a video of me eating Octopus no.2.

The Frog and I

My first real introduction to Cambodian cuisine was about half an hour from the Vietnamese border.

Our coach had made an ‘unscheduled’ stop at a small deserted cafe. My stomach led me into the eating area. Attempting the mantra ‘do as the locals do…’ I decided to go with whatever the native in front order; rice vegetables and a little meat. I motioned to the food and the server’s response was to imitate a frog. I hesitantly nodded and was handed a plate of stir-fry frog’s legs… It was delicious and although there was little meat that moment changed the way I thought about doing things.

 

© John Brownlie 2012