More Confessions of a Hostie (10 page)

BOOK: More Confessions of a Hostie
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I have been deliberate and final, yet the little man still tries to interrupt me. He is unsuccessful again.

‘As I said,
at this point
there will be no action against you. However, if you insist on prolonging this, I would be more than happy to bring the manager down and have her take the appropriate action. Would you like me to do that?'

He stutters and stammers, but still tries to obstinately voice his grievances.

I can see Damien walking down the aisle toward us. I make eye-contact with Damien and gesture to him that I have everything under control. Damien stops and watches from a distance.

I turn to the little man one last time. ‘Would you like me to get the manager?'

He mumbles something under his breath. I cannot make out what he is saying, neither do I care, but I want to get in the last word.

‘Sorry, but I can't hear you,' I say in a grave voice.

‘No,' he says.

‘So, I will presume that this is the end of the matter,' I say with authority before walking back to the galley.

I am in the galley for only a nanosecond when Damien enters. He is bursting with curiosity about what went on between me and Mr. 48C. When I tell him the whole story, Damien is delirious. He cannot stop laughing for some time. He stops laughing only to throw random insults at the little man, and then begins laughing again. Damien couldn't be more contented at the way I handled the situation.

'It takes a lot of effort to reward someone for bad behaviour, but only a little more effort to make their life totally miserable,' he says, almost wisely, before walking away from the galley, still beaming.

The rest of the flight goes superlatively well. Mr. 48C finally has something to eat and even thanks me for serving him the meal.

Mr. Blumfeld has also had a change of heart apparently. He keeps his wandering hands to himself. The rest of the passengers, including Helen of course, continue to have a great time. For many of the passengers, it is their first time to Honolulu. Some have asked me advice on what to see and what to do when they arrive. As I have been to Honolulu almost as many times as I have had hot breakfasts, I am more than qualified to act as an onboard travel advisor and more than happy to help them out.

It's surprising, and also a bit disappointing, that crew don't get asked more often than they do for advice about the destinations people fly to. Most of the layover ports we stay in are places where we have stayed in numerous times, particularly the experienced crew members. No one would know more or better than us about where to eat (and which place is good and cheap) what to do, where to shop (my specialty) and the best way to get around a city.

Much of the advice I hand out on this flight are for things Helen and I will be doing later in the day and tomorrow. As it is Helen's first (and probably not the last) trip to Honolulu we will use our two days wisely and not travel too far. Waikiki beach is stunning. We are going to Honolulu to soak up the sun, relax and enjoy the surroundings.

Over the years, I have done a lot of things around Honolulu and all over the island of Oahu. I have done the customary surfboard riding, or at least tried to, at Waikiki, have been snorkelling at Hanauma Bay, sailing in twilight races out of Hawaii Yacht Club, been on numerous sunset cruises and sails, seen monstrous surf on the North Shore, visited the Pearl Harbour memorials and have ridden a push bike half way around the island. Probably the most exhilarating experience I've had was flying in a glider out of Dillingham Airfield on the North Shore.

Oahu's North Shore is spectacular and to be gliding silently through it was not only spectacular, but a little scary. I have spent so much of my life on big and fully manned commercial aircrafts, but that is no comparison to the feeling of floating on the air currents in an engineless flying craft.

a traveller without observation is like a bird without wings

There are many aspects of this job that I find very difficult to deal with, but visiting different places and observing different cultures is not one of them. My love for travel is the main reason I became an international flight attendant in the first place.

At dinner parties, I am frequently asked about how well-travelled I am. Yes, I am, I tell them, compared to most people at least, but the reality is that there are more countries I have not been to than countries I have. Most of the layovers we have are in huge cities. Time and fatigue-related issues make it difficult to travel outside of the city.

Not impossible, but difficult surely. I have taken full advantage of the opportunities presented to me, but even so, it is a big world out there – and I have seen but a glimpse of it. However, I will surely claim that I more educated than most in world affairs and cultures. But that's probably how every international flight attendant is, a geographically wealth of knowledge – isn't that so? Not necessarily so.

Some people travel the world and see nothing. Not just flight attendants, but many of the travelling public. It depends on the individual, and not every person is as excited about travel as I am. My friend Mary Gomez has been to a place like Singapore a dozen times, if not over a hundred times. However, she hasn't the time, energy or interest to explore Singapore; she is either jetlagged or drunk (usually both) when she is there. Once she even asked me if Singapore was in the northern or southern hemisphere. I would take a bet that a fair percentage of crew would not know the answer to her question. The answer: it is not far from the equator, but it is in the northern hemisphere.

For now I have to concentrate on giving Helen the trip of a lifetime. Hopefully I can impart some of my travel knowledge to Helen, but if I don't it is not the end of the world.

We only have an hour until the top-of-descent, which means we are not too far from wrapping everything up in the cabin. I go and visit Helen. She has been asleep for at least three hours. On one of my visits to the front of the plane, Ronn Moss was grabbing a snack from the galley. We had a great chat. He really is a laid-back person. I am not a big soap opera fan, but I know Helen is, and her favourite soapie is ‘The Bold And The Beautiful'. She will be so disappointed that she missed the opportunity to chat with him. I told Ronn about our possible plans that evening (for Helen's benefit, I promise) but he has a busy schedule. I think that had he not been busy he would have joined us, but I won't torment Helen with what could have been.

I used to watch the occasional soapie, but I am in so many different countries and each one airs varying episodes, so it all becomes too confusing too soon. I remember, years ago I saw a soapie in Rome (and dubbed in Italian) and it was at least four years behind what was going on in The States at the time. These days I stick to the History or Discovery Channels, the news and sitcoms. Most of my non-flying friends watch reality shows. However, I'm rarely home long enough to watch them. Even if I do watch a few episodes while I am away, they are usually out-of-sequence. I loved watching ‘The Bachelor' and ‘The Bachelorette'; I taped some episodes for me to watch when I came back from my trips, but even then I missed more episodes than I watched.

I actually enjoy reading newspapers in most of the countries I stay. I love to find out what types of stories make news in different countries, both domestically as well as overseas. It is fascinating at times to see how the rest of the world views things. Often a major story, or at least a story that you would think is major at the international level, is barely even mentioned in the national newspapers of some countries. Newspapers are not printed for tourists. I like that. What most tourists fail to see is that a foreign country is not designed to make them feel comfortable; it is designed to make its own people comfortable.

On my last trip to Indonesia the lead story in the local paper was of a man in a rural village who had gone to the nearby river to defecate. While he was immersed in the act, a crocodile pulled him into the water. Apart from the obvious humour in the story, placing one's butt in the water and being snatched by a big croc is a story you are not likely to read on the front page of
The Times
in London.

I try not to look at different cultures from the point of view of a tourist. I am by no means a local, but I visit most of these places often enough to at least try and have an understanding of local issues and perspectives.

Having said that, Honolulu is not your typical destination. Tourism and commercialism rule almost every aspect of Hawaiian life. In a city like Honolulu what the locals read is very similar to what the tourists would read – if the tourists had time to read, that is.

I can't see Helen and me having time to read. About the only thing we will read are cocktail menus, and even then the choice is easy – Mai Tais it will be.

We arrive at the hotel early in the morning. For Helen, even the bus ride from the airport to downtown is a breathtaking event. We pass alongside Pearl Harbour and some of the coastline before arriving in Honolulu proper.

‘Your Majesty' is definitely well-rested and filled with energy. She got some sleep on the aircraft; even if she hadn't, she would still be just as bouncy, jumping out of her skin with eagerness to look around Honolulu. I need some sleep though. Luckily for Helen, the standard four hours is all I will get. I have briefed Helen about what she can do for those four hours: Waikiki is very safe throughout the day, and I have given her a map and some tips on where she can go.

‘Sleep well,' she says and scampers out of the room.

Four hours later Helen walks into the room. My sleeping pill-induced nap is coming to its predictable conclusion. I'm still groggy while Helen tells me all about the fantastic time she has spent walking up and down Waikiki beach. She walked all the way to Diamond Head, and on the way back had a coffee at the Royal Hawaiian, right on the beach; one of my favourite coffee-drinking destinations in the world. One of the little chores I had her do was to book a sunset Mai Tai cruise for us – she did do this. Kate and Damien from the crew have also expressed a desire to come, so I leave a message for them (straight to voicemail in case they are still asleep) to inform them of our plans for the night.

There are so many things we could be doing as tourists, but we have decided to do something Helen gets very little time to do for herself back home – shop. Helen's new nickname might be ‘Your Majesty', but I am the queen of all things retail.

I know a shortcut from the hotel to the shops, but we don't take it. It is a beautiful day, so we walk along the beach and foreshore pathways until we need to cross the road to Ala Moana Shopping Centre. Friends that can travel together and can shop together are the best of friends.

I may be the queen of shopping, but Helen is a strong contender for the title too. When she first came away with me, she was something of a novice, but I have transformed my protégé into a well-drilled, finely-tuned shopping machine. I am sure Helen's husband would be mortified by this.

As desperate as we are to hit the shops, there is one stop I am obliged to make before anything else. Coffee beckons me, and I must have it.

The perfect shopping day beings with a double shot latte. When time is an issue (as it is today) the coffee can be to go, but it can't be skipped.

Then it is shop, shop, shop, shop. At the end of the day I have another coffee, but this time one needs to sit down with the cup of brew and a handful of shopping bags, and savour the moment. Also the fact that you have too many bags to carry (as we usually do) dictates that we have to sit down as we cannot carry another thing, not even a cup of coffee.

We catch a tram – or trolley as the locals call them – back to the hotel. ‘So much shopping, so little time,' my protégé observes as we enter our hotel room.

the word ‘paradise' is often overused, but rarely overrated

We quickly change into some of our newly purchased summer clothes and race downstairs to meet Damien and Kate. Damien has been on many Waikiki sunset cruises, but this is Kate's first. She is almost as excited as Helen. We walk from the hotel toward the beach, then along the beach to Dukes bar and restaurant located right on the beach. The last time that both Damien and I were in Honolulu, we had a few a drinks at Dukes, I fondly remember, or at least I think I can remember.

Our sunset cruise starts and finishes on the beach directly in front of Dukes. We won't be doing the cruise on a boat or ship, but on a fairly large catamaran with sails; so apart from motoring to and from the shore, most of the offshore excursion will be sailing.

Waikiki is famous for its surf – not the size of the surf, but the small, easy-to-ride waves. That is why at any given time Waikiki Bay is a sea of Malibu surfboards. The weather is incredible and the wind is a very light offshore breeze as usual. However the surf is a little larger than I have seen before. It is by no means huge, but I am excited and a tad scared about how the catamaran is going to get out past the breakers.

It is a surreal experience as the boat motors away from the shoreline and heads toward the break zone. Helen, Damien, Kate and I hold a Mai Tai in one hand, and we hold onto anything we can with the other as waves crash across the bow and people surf around us.

‘Whoa baby – this is living!' Helen screams out. She must surely be getting sore cheeks by now from smiling so much.

This is certainly the best cruise I've ever been on. We see humpback whales, dolphins, and turtles moving around us, a few only inches away from our catamaran. The sunset is breathtakingly beautiful – some people may think that all sunsets are alike, but they are wrong, and the ocean is like a sparkling pool, its waves breaking into crystal perfection. Surfing down the waters on our catamaran is a stirring experience.

I think Helen has one too many Mai Tais, and she is already beginning to slur her words. She should be ready to crash, but she is not. For a selfless, working mother of two and someone who rarely does anything out of the ordinary, this is her time to live it up. I remember seeing the party-girl side of Helen when we were teenagers, but I thought that part of her was well and truly dead and buried. I thought wrong.

BOOK: More Confessions of a Hostie
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