Tag: Airport

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Travel By Car

Holidays are something that we all need and love; without them we would all go a little crazy! The way we travel is really down to personal preference: should we fly, ferry or drive? We all have different ideas on how to get to our destination, but what happens when we do arrive? Do we sit by a pool all day sipping cocktails or do we explore? This is where we step in and say “book a hire car, see more”! Not yet convinced? You will be after these 7 reasons:

1. No Waiting At The Airport For The Hotel Transfer. There are many a bad childhood memory to be told about landing in the foreign airport at 1.30am, tired and grumpy, waiting what seems like a decade for your suitcase – which always seems to be the last one out – and then standing outside with the rest of the happy campers waiting for your accommodation transfers. Once you have all been ushered on and you’re on route, it appears that not only was yours the last suitcase off, you’re also the last hotel drop!

2. You Can Choose Your Passengers. We’ve all been there; jumped on a bus thinking it will save on the holiday budget and got stuck with a person that proceeds to tell you their entire life story and why they are embarking on this journey alone, or that bloke with the worst personal hygiene ever who smelt; normally he has dreads, those pants that are neither full length or shorts, and a few beads around his neck.

3. Make Day Trips Your Own. Everyone has encountered those annoying holiday reps that speak in a voice high pitched enough for the local dogs to hear and they think we are all stupid tourists that need every single attraction pointed out and explained to us in so much details that we suddenly find jumping of the Eiffel Tower a better prospect than just climbing the steps.

4. Getting Lost And Then Finding Your Way Again. What’s a holiday without a little adventure? Take a car hire Barcelona for example; one minute you could be driving down a busy road and think ‘I’ll just take the next left to avoid the traffic’ and BOM you’re in the dodgiest city area you have ever seen, thinking you’re just about to get car jacked and then you turn another corner and you’re back in the land of camera snapping tourist. Now that’s a story for the grandkids!

5. You Can Find The Best Beaches. You can read a tour guide book to find out where the tourist beaches are, and if you spend a day on one of those you’re likely to get hit by a football from the family next to you and their over active kids, or be attacked by a cheap rubber lilo in the sea. Now book a car hire Gran Canaria an you are free to unearth those hidden coves, known by only the locals. But beware, you could come across a few nudist beaches as well!

6. Make A Little Money On Your Travels. Heading off for the day but have room for two more, why not offer that nice couple that are staying in the same hotel as you a lift? At a small cost of course. This way you can cover your fuel costs for the day without having to dip into your holiday money!

7. Test Drive That Car You Wanted Before You Buy. Granted that most times when you book a hire car you are not sure of the vehicle type until you arrive at your destination. However, some suppliers – if you are prepared to pay that little extra – will let you choose your car when you book. What better way to get to know the handling of a car than to drive it around for a week or two?

*All images are copyright of http://www.globalmediaserver.com.

March 23, 2012
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Flying With A Strange Man Is Annoying

A few weeks ago – much to the consternation of Italy – I went to Rome. Accompanying me on the epic trip was my girlfriend. While I have covered why Rome and I disagreed in great depth here, I did not speak about our flight home. A flight which split my girlfriend and I up. Though only for two and a half hours. For the duration, I sat next to a woman who seemed interested in children’s illustration. While my girlfriend sat next to a strange man. And an annoying man. That’s one person, not two. This is Claire Quinn’s story.

Google Images' Most Popular Annoying Passenger

1. Newspaper. Folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding. Rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling. All the time. I don’t even think he could read.

2. View. It would have been lovely to see the sunset over Europe, instead I saw the back of a man’s head. And a newspaper.

3. G&T. This was a kind of torture. I wanted a G&T, he had a G&T. I couldn’t have a G&T as someone had to drive us home when we got back to Heathrow. (When I say ‘us’ I don’t mean the annoying man, I mean the strange man. Jon.) But the annoying man didn’t seem to care about any of this, so he sat there drinking his G&T. Slowly. That is not the way to drink a G&T.

4. Lemon. Apart from being a lemon, he had a lemon. It was in his G&T, then it was in his mouth. And he was chewing it and chewing it and chewing it and chewing it. And then he rustled his newspaper.

5. Coat. The annoying man was wearing the thickest coat that I have ever seen. It was so thick he probably should have had a seat of it’s own. But it wasn’t so much the coat that annoyed me as the fact that he was wearing his coat. Who wears a coat on a plane? What did he have to hide? Thinking about in now though, I am glad I never found out.

6. Fidgeting. As if the rustling and the crumpling and the folding and unfolding and the chewing and the chewing wasn’t enough, he was also a fidgeter. His legs were jigging up and down as if he was on of those wind-up toys. Shame he wasn’t. I’d have put him in reverse and destroyed the mechanism.

7. Earplugs. The most annoying thing – yes, all the above were relatively minor – is that he wouldn’t have realised just how annoying he was because he was wearing earplugs. So he didn’t hear any of the crumpling and rustling and folding and unfolding and chewing and jigging. None of it. He just enjoyed the silence. Or maybe he knew how annoying and loud he was which is why he wore earplugs? So he didn’t have to listen to it. That just makes him even more annoying.

November 20, 2010
7 Reasons That Postcards Should Be More Honest

Postcards. They’re not honest enough. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Blackpool. This is what a holiday in Blackpool actually looks like. I’ve been there. Many times. Other postcards may not show this, but forewarned is forearmed.

2. Bondi Beach. Sending a postcard from Australia, where it’s nice and warm and sunny you’re having a good time is ostentatious and likely to cause the recipient a pang of envy. Negate the envy by showing the reality. That you’re being eaten by a shark. Or a crocodile. Or a spider.

3. Welwyn Garden City. If the postcard isn’t honest, the recipient might get a false impression of a destination and may choose to visit it themselves. This would be a mistake.

4. Slough! You don’t want to get people’s hopes up about what they can expect as a present. Unless you show the iconic local product on your postcard, they might expect all sorts of exotica: A sombrero; a stuffed donkey; a bottle of wine in a wicker basket; an owl. You need to let them know that they aren’t getting any of these things.

5. The Natural History Museum. Or, you can subvert an entire genre of postcards and send this. That should make the recipient nervous until your return.

6. Yorkshire. You don’t want the recipient to feel as if they’re missing out on lots of sunshine, warmth and an exotic climate. Let them know what the weather’s really like where you are.

7. Candour. Ever wondered why the sender always returns from holiday before the postcard? Well wonder no more. It’s because they don’t care enough about you.

November 17, 2010
7 Reasons That James Blunt Must Be Stopped

You may agree with Dave Cameron; you may follow Nick Thing; you may be a supporter of Mad Elliband; you may be a devotee of that Scottish man with a name like a fish. It doesn’t matter, because there’s one cause that everyone must unite behind: Stopping James Blunt. And be in no doubt whatsoever, James Blunt must be stopped. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Ubiquity. He’s bloody everywhere. On everything. I can’t turn on my television or my radio at the moment without James Blunt being on it. I can’t visit websites – though I’m aware I’m now partially responsible for this – or open newspapers (yes, newspapers, those paper things from the past that existed before this screen in front of you with these words on. He’s in them too) without seeing or hearing him. James Blunt has – in the last fortnight – achieved total, absolute, all-permeating multi-platform media omnipresence. He’s in a magazine somewhere near me right now. And near you. In fact he’s in all of the magazines. Everywhere. All over the place. Being James Blunt.

2. He’s Becoming Weirder. Remember when Tom Cruise seemed normal? No? Well some of us have long memories and he did once. Before he split up with Penelope Cruz; before he started jumping up and down on Oprah’s sofa; before he began espousing odd birthing techniques, Tom Cruise didn’t seem all that weird. But he does now. And the same thing is happening to James Blunt. He used to look and seem relatively at one with the world, but the more I see him, and the more I see him respond to external stimuli (interviews, conversation etc) by grinning inanely and then grinning inanely some more, the more he reminds me of Tom Cruise. Which is the slippery slope to weirdness.

3. His Hair. Have you seen his hair? I’m about to skirt the accepted boundaries of heterosexuality right here and right now, but I don’t care; because James Blunt’s hair used to be lovely. Absolutely fucking lovely. A dark, lustrous, bounteous, luxuriant barnet; a follicular paragon; a mane to rival the legendary tresses of both Samson and Aniston, but have you seen it recently? When he appeared on Have I Got News For You (and Never Mind The Buzzcocks and Daybreak and The One Show and BBC Breakfast and T4 and Something For The Weekend and London Tonight and The Graham Norton Show) it looked like he’d painted a brillo pad orange and stuck it down to his head. I don’t know how this is happening to his hair or why it’s happening; but what if it’s catching? What if it happens to my hair?! Or yours?

Seriously. What has happened here and is it contagious?

4. The Bath. And then last night it all became even stranger. Because, when I was listening to a politics programme on BBC Radio 5Live in the bath (on a rare occasion that it wasn’t full of champagne and dancing girls), they announced that they were about to interview James Blunt. Oh God, I thought. I’m trapped. I’ve just put on my facial mud (for MEN) and now I’m going to be stuck in the bath for twenty minutes listening to James Blunt…again. And I was. And I couldn’t even put my head under the water to cover my ears or to drown myself because of the mud. So I had to listen. And listen I did. I listened to James Blunt recount the time that he disobeyed orders from his commanders in Kosovo and didn’t attack the Russians, thus averting a massive East-West conflict. That’s right, James Blunt saved us from World War III. And while, at the bottom of my heart, I knew that not having a third world war was probably a good and desirable thing, I couldn’t help thinking that if we’d had a third world war, James Blunt would never have been allowed to leave the army and we’d never have had to listen to his music, and he wouldn’t be bloody everywhere; all over the place; even in my bath.

5. The Song. And sure enough, as I lay there unable to escape from James Blunt: Saviour of the World, they played the song. The same song that I’ve heard everywhere, every time that James Blunt has appeared over the last fortnight: You’re Beautiful. The one James Blunt song that I know, apparently the one James Blunt song that everyone knows. There are others, sure, but can you name them? No, and I can’t either. I, a musical man with an enviable collection of music; a man for whom music has been a passion for his entire life. A man who owns all four Electrelane studio albums, and has most of the Os Mutantes albums on original vinyl. I can’t name more than one James Blunt song and neither can anyone else except his fans, and even they can’t do it with any certainty. And having heard it sodding everywhere for the past fortnight (even the Sesame Street version) it came as a blessed relief later on, to turn the television, the computer and the radio off knowing that I would escape from it. And then my wife started humming the bloody thing (having presumably absorbed it through some sort of osmosis) and, while I couldn’t help but agree with her sentiments, it was still the same damned song…again. But off key.

6. Then There’s His Name. James Blunt’s name is James Blunt. That’s right: James Blunt. And you might think to a humourist, that it would offer all manner of potential, but it doesn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. Because it rhymes with the one word in the English language that you can never, ever use without losing the sympathy of your reader. If he were called James Bluck, James Block, James Blank, James Blick, James Blit, James Bliss, James Blits, or James Brance I might conceivably be able to make fun of him in rhyme. But I can’t. Because his name is Blunt. And do know what’s really annoying about it? It isn’t even his real name. He changed it. His original name is Blount: Pronounced Blunt.

7. And This Is The Worst Part. He seems like a nice guy. A man who, despite being everywhere with his one song irritating the hell out of you, me and all those other people standing about and clogging the pavements, actually seems to have substance. A man who has a mind of his own and is no mere vacuous, avaricious, chancer like many contemporary popular musicians. A man who has served his country in combat and has come out of the experience intact and has forged a successful post-army life for himself; sadly in contrast to many ex-servicemen who often don’t get the support that they deserve and that we owe them. A man who goes back and performs concerts for the troops and is a vociferous advocate of, and fundraiser for, Médecins Sans Frontières. And that makes criticism of him hard. And it probably makes me look like a bit of a count. But please, for the love of god, James. Stop. Enough. We all know we’re beautiful and we need a break now.

November 15, 2010
7 Reasons To Holiday At The Airport

1. Anticipation. Getting on a plane is quite exciting. (Unless you’re going on a business trip to the middle of Russia. But let’s assume you are not). Let’s assume you are supposedly going somewhere nice. Kingston, Jamaica for example. That really is quite exciting. The thought of spending time on a beach and hanging around with people who say, ‘No problum marn’ a lot, is very exciting. Holiday-ing at an airport means you can experience this anticipation every minute of everyday.

2. Duty-Free. The airport is full of it. You can stock up on so many gifts. And let’s face it, no one can have too many AAA sized batteries or an adaptor for the electrical system in Outer Mongolia.

3. Joy. There probably aren’t many more wonderful places than the arrivals gate at an airport. Unless it’s in an airport in the middle of Russia and you are on a business trip. But you’re not are you? You are on holiday in Heathrow Terminal 5. Here you witness thousands upon thousands of people being reunited with family and friends. It’s a beautiful sight. One that makes you feel up warm and fuzzy inside. Incidentally, it is also a hotspot for the exchange of boomerangs, sombreros and ushankas.

4. Cheap Thrills. Apparently it’s actually illegal to holiday in an airport. Which makes it all the more fun to try and do it. The thrill of hiding in a cupboard in Sunglasses Hut hoping that no one will find you has no equal. I imagine it’s like having sex in a lift. But I wouldn’t know. I have always worried about what the other people in the lift would think. Especially the girl’s boyfriend.

5. Get A Job. Obviously you’d struggle to get a job in McDonald’s as you left your P45 at home, but, as Tom Hanks showed in The Terminal, there is always a bit of building work that needs doing. It’s cash-in-hand and you get to meet Catherine Zeta-Jones. Bonus.

6. Get On TV. People are always filming at airports. If they aren’t filming Paris Hilton then they will be filming a real man’s man in the form of Jeremy Spake. All you need to do is wander onto the wrong plane and suddenly he’s all over you. He could make you a star. Or make you go home. He’s like marmite.

7. Comedy. The queue for check-in is a remarkable place. On average people have to queue up for ten minutes. And in those ten minutes they check they have their passport about 40 times. Then they check their watch 50 times before looking anxiously at the departures board. Then they make sure the padlock on their suitcase is locked about 72 times. Then they get to the check-in desk and realise their passport expired three weeks ago. Oh, the look on their sorry little faces is a picture. Enjoy it.

December 10, 2009