That’s the advice Gadling pal Chris Blattman recently linked to, in a hilarious story of forged boarding passes, overcrowded planes, and stranded passengers in Lagos, Nigeria.
The story goes like this, via the blog Siphoning off a Few Thoughts: “[A man] got on a flight in Lagos to find it completely full…plus one.One person was standing in the aisle with no seat.The flight attendants went through and checked that everyone had a boarding pass, which they did.(Apparently someone had a forged pass; welcome to Lagos.)The staff then made an announcement that everyone was going to de-plane and that they were going to check everyone’s boarding pass carefully.
“As soon as the first person stepped off the plane, the staff slammed and locked the airplane door, despite the person’s cries and banging on the door. Problem solved.”
In terms of the literature of business travel, Britain’s Peter Biddlecombe has always had the market sort of cornered.
In titles like Very Funny, Now Change Me Back Again, Travels with My Briefcase: Around the World on Expenses, A Nice Time Being Had By All and French Lessons in Africa, Biddlecombe maintains that the only true travelers in the world are business travelers. The reason? They don’t mess about with sightseeing, museums, guidebooks, Michelin restaurants, etc. Rather they arrive with a purpose: they hit the ground running, interacting with the local culture from the very beginning, and in the time spent in board rooms and convention centers the business traveler can see and interact with the very engines that drive a country.
So he says. You can certainly argue the other side. But picking Biddlecombe’s books off the shelf, I’m always surprised that his short tales are, well, entertaining — and they are about business travel! It helps that Biddlecombe is often doing business in deepest Africa, in a Bedouin village in Saudi Arabia or Yemen, or on the Kamchatka Peninsula in the Russian Far East.
Some of that flavor is found in this nice piece from Business Traveler about the fact that business travel is picking up in Baghdad, of all places. The intrepid correspondent gives you a step-by-step account of what it’s like to show up in a war zone to do business. The opening, detailing the corkscrew dive of the airplane into Baghdad International (to avoid surface-to-air missiles, presumably) definitely evoked Biddlecombe.
So, check out some of Biddlecombe’s books, if you’re looking for a different take on travel writing. And read about business travel in Iraq here.
Shin Soo-Jin, 39, and Hong Soo-In, 36, recently qualified to fly the B-737 airplane for Korean Air.
Said Shin of this achievement: “I’m glad that I’ve achieved my longtime dream. Just as we did, junior female pilot-hopefuls will have to undergo tough challenges. I believe in their capabilities.”
With Obama’s win has come a round of election related posts this week. There’s an Obama musical planned in Kenya, bling to be had with inaugeration hotel packages and Obama-themed safaris.
In other travel related avenues that had nothing to do with the election, here are five other reads that range from the serious to the silly.
Aaron pointed out how cruises are still considered travel bargains.
And, Annie wondered what’s up with the name Big Bone Lick.
But, of all the posts this week that should not be missed, it’s Abha’s Stand By Me. No matter what people’s politics, the video she highlights is one with a message that is worth holding dear. Take time to watch it. The music is wonderful.
Here at Gadling we’ll be highlighting some of our favorite sounds from the road and giving you a sample of each — maybe you’ll find the same inspiration that we did, but at the very least, hopefully you’ll think that they’re good songs. Got a favorite of your own? Leave it in the comments below and we’ll post it at the end of the series.
WEEK 4: Colder – One Night In Tokyo
Japan has a reputation of creating bewilderment and a sense of wonder for visitors from the Western world. For anyone who has ever gotten lost in the “fiction” of Japan created by movies like Lost in Translation or anime series like Gundam, there is a perception created of a place that looks strangely familiar yet somehow slightly askew, like your friend was hiding around the corner, waiting to jump out and scare the crap out of you. You’re left constantly on edge, ready to be surprised, shocked and amused by a constant barrage of stimuli.
It was with these thoughts in mind as I landed in Tokyo for my first trip to Japan earlier this year. My home base for the next 10 days was a high rise in the Shinjuku neighborhood – a bustling, neon-lit business district in central Tokyo. As I unpacked my things in my room, I flipped on my iPod to a song by Colder, a French electronic artist known for his moody, atmospheric compositions, fittingly selecting one of my favorite tracks called “One Night in Tokyo.”
As the track slowly kicked in, I took in my surroundings. Dusk was beginning to settle over this massive metropolis. Thousands of office towers lay before me – giant monoliths of concrete and glass glistening quietly, silhouetted against the quickly darkening sky. Each pulsated at the top with the intermittent blink of tiny red light, creating a vision of thousands of tiny insects flashing alone in the dark, performing a giant light show for an unknown audience that rushed by, oblivious. The scene was punctuated by the clackety-clack of endless subway cars as they rumbled into the gigantic Shinjuku rail station down below.
“One Night in Tokyo” was the perfect complement to my overwhelming sense of vertigo at the scene before me. The song builds slowly, adding layer upon layer of warm keyboard synths, dub echoes and handclaps, while lead singer Marc Tan sings in a detached, mysterious monotone. The sound effects fade in and out of the song chaotically, much like the intermittent trains that pierced the silence of my quiet hotel room.
As isolating as this all may sound, One Night in Tokyo was absolutely perfect for setting the right Tokyo mood. It captured what I found so intriguing about Tokyo at night – the air feels thick with excitement and potential. The dark alleyways, the searing neon, the bustle and the activity all created a sense of mystery and excitement. There was a constant sense that at any moment I would be thrust into my own movie plot, filled with strange characters and shady villans darting onto subway platforms and down sidestreets.
My next 10 days in Japan presented me with an experience I will never forget. The Japan of reality is surprisingly not like the one portrayed in my imagination – in fact it’s far weirder. But for those first few hours in Tokyo, as the day began to dim and One Night in Tokyo slowly dissipated from my speakers, my fantasy vision of Japan was alive and well.