Eyjafjallajokull fallout: What did Iceland’s volcano’s explosion cost travelers?

by Willy Volk on

Beginning April 14, Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull volcano erupted, melting glaciers and spewing a huge ash cloud, which disrupted air travel throughout the EU and impacted business as far away as Kenya. As a result, air travelers were stranded for days, many in airports and most with little hope for comfort. After about a week, air travel began to return to normal, though many travelers flailed about looking for who would help reimburse their costs during their forced stays.

To help understand the eruption of Eyjafjallajökull, Gadling has teamed with Online Schools to develop an easy-to-understand infographic, which explains everything from how to pronounce the name of that silly volcano to an analysis of how much hotels tried to gouge stranded passengers. Keep reading for some amazing numbers — and for the only solution for clearing the next ash cloud from the skies.

EMBED THE IMAGE ABOVE ON YOUR SITE

[Source: Online Schools for Gadling.com]

Was there a silver lining to that volcanic ash cloud?

by Aaron Hotfelder on

Well, no. Millions of people– and not just air travelers– were affected by that giant cloud of volcanic ash that cancelled flights into and out of Europe last week, including flower salesmen in Kenya, potential organ transplant recipients in Germany, and injured U.S. troops in Iraq and Afghanistan.

But some are now declaring that there’s a silver lining to the Great Smoke Monster Uprising of 2010. Keith Sawyer, a psychology professor at Washington University in St. Louis, says that gridlock at the airport might actually be good for travelers because it will help them rediscover their inherent “creativity.” From the article:

Like it or not, stranded travelers around the globe are suddenly finding themselves with a lot of unscheduled time on their hands, and idle time is a key ingredient to becoming more creative in your personal and professional lives, says Sawyer.

As Russ Roberts points out, the only explanation for Sawyer’s odd hypothesis is that the man has never had his flight canceled or delayed.

Sawyer is not alone in trying to decipher a minuscule, probably illusory bright spot in a sea of horribleness. The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette thinks it will be a boon for the upcoming Pittsburgh Marathon. (Woo-hoo!) Elsewhere, investment bankers may stand to profit. (Double woo-hoo!) And FedEx also sees a possible silver lining in the mess.

While I admire the optimism, can’t we all just agree that the interruption of air travel into and out of Europe for almost a week was a completely awful thing? No silver lining. No “but on the other hand…” Thousands of people lost loads of money, many others were inconvenienced beyond belief, still others didn’t receive the medicines (or organs!) they needed. It is a little like pointing out that 9/11 was terrible but at least it “brought the country together.” No, it was terrible, period. So was last week.

For a more thoughtful consideration of the implications of the recent air travel disruption, check out Eric Weiner’s piece over at World Hum “Seven Lessons from the Great Volcano Shutdown of 2010.”

Galley Gossip: Will the volcanic eruption trigger a baby boom?

by Heather Poole on

During 9/11 I was stuck in Zurich, Switzerland for over a week. Sure there are much worse places to be, but I spent ninety percent of that time sitting around the airport waiting to get back to the United States. Every single day I checked out the hotel, dragged my bags a few blocks in the dark to the train station, and waited at the airport just like thousands of other stranded passengers. I was number 800-and-something on the standby list and all the flights departing to the US – two of them a day – were full. Some passengers became impatient and decided to rent a car and drive to airports in neighboring countries in the hope of getting out sooner. A few days later they were back. The rest of us just sat around waiting for our names to be called. It didn’t take long for strangers from all over the world to become friends.

Now with a volcanic ash cloud over Iceland shutting down European air space, thousands of passengers are stranded at airports around the world. With so many passengers spending time together, I can’t help but wonder if any love connections have formed over the last few days. What can I say, I’m romantic like that. Put a group of people together, throw in a natural disaster, and relationships are bound to form. And with all that time just hanging around airport hotels with nothing to do but, well, ya know, babies are bound to be born nine months later. Don’t ya think?

Remember the 2003 New York City blackout? I wanted to know if it resulted in a rise in births. So I did a little research and found out that the baby boom theory after a disruptive event is an urban legend. Isolated events like blackouts, and I’m going to assume erupting volcanos, do not cause babies to be born. It’s a misconception that people use their downtime to, well, ya know, get busy. Apparently that is the last thing on their mind. Don’t know why. I guess they’re just a little too busy waiting to board a flight that isn’t going to leave for days than to get jiggy with it. So what does cause a baby boom? According to Judith Nolte of “American Baby” magazine in an article written in 2003, the only thing that will create a baby boom is a surging number of women who are fertile. Like we didn’t know that.

I don’t care what the scientists and baby experts say, I predict there will be quite a few babies born as a direct result of Eyafjallajokul erupting. So what do you say we help name all those little volcano babies? After I sent out a tweet asking for a few suggestions, the names came pouring in. Valen, one of the more interesting ones, came from Infobitsystems. It’s a variant of Valentinus; the name of more than fifty saints and three Roman emperors. Now that’s a powerful name! NavyAirCrewman came up with Pele for a girl (Hawaiian volcano goddess) and Hephaistos for a boy (Greek god of fire). Now it’s up to you to decide.

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Photo courtesy of OMI

European flights grounded due to Icelandic volcano

by Sean McLachlan on

The massive eruption of a volcano in Iceland may be turning into a local tourist attraction, but it’s seriously hurting the travel industry. Ash from the volcano is heading for the skies over the UK and Scandinavia and has caused most flights in the UK to be grounded.

The thick, gritty ash can damage engines, causing them to jam, so all airports in Scotland are closed, as are numerous airports in England, including Heathrow. Ireland’s airports are also reporting widespread delays and cancellations.

Other airports in Northern Europe are also closing or experiencing heavy cancellations, including in Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Finland.

Twice in the 1980s airplanes flying through clouds of volcanic ash had their engines seize up. Both times the pilots were able to steer away from the clouds and restart the engines, but needless to say aviation officials don’t want to risk another incident.

Since the volcano is still churning out so much ash that it can be seen from space, as this NASA image shows, it is unclear how long the delays will last. If you are flying to, from, or around Europe over the next few days, call your airline for the latest updates. We’ll keep you posted here at Gadling too.

Trade Mocked

by Andrew Evans on

You were a cheerleader, you dated a cheerleader, or you hated the cheerleaders. As I recall, that’s how high school worked.

Thanks to travel PR, that same primeval paradigm lives on long after graduation. That miniskirts-shouting-slogans thing still works, whether you’re a used car salesman, Miley Cyrus on VH1 or the tourist board of a small Balkan nation. When it comes to selling your destination in today’s busy world of busy people, a country’s name just isn’t enough–just like school spirit, you need colors, a pep band, a mascot, a brand and most important–a cheer.

It’s tragic but true: tourist boards don’t trust their country’s name to inspire appropriate thoughts in your brain. Toponyms are too open-ended and too untrustworthy–also, way too obvious. For example, what’s the first thing that pops into your head when I say . . . Monte Carlo? How about Australia? The Bahamas? Kuwait? The Gambia?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not enough. Tourist boards want you to choose their destination over all others, then allocate all of your vacation days to them and then come spend your money on very specific things–like miniature golf by the sea or hot air balloon rides across the prairie. In short, they want your school spirit so much they’re churning out cheers to fill up all the Swiss cheese holes in your mental map of the world.

Like a good cheer, a good destination slogan is simple and so memorable it sticks in your head like two-sided tape. Sex sells, but then so does love: “Virginia is for Lovers”, Hungary offers visitors “A Love for Life”, Albania promises “A New Mediterranean Love”, while the highlighted “I feel Slovenia” spells out sweetly “I Feel Love”. Meanwhile, Bosnia & Herzegovina call themselves “the Heart Shaped Land” and Denmark’s logo is a red heart with a white cross. Colombia and Dubai have red hearts in their logo. Everybody else uses sunshine.
There is a direct correlation between sunshine deprivation and travelers with disposable income–sunny places sell, which is why Maldives is “the Sunny Side of Life”, Sicily says “Everything else is in the shade”, Ethiopia quizzically boasts “13 Months of Sunshine”, Portugal is “Europe’s West Coast”, and Spain used to be “Everything Under the Sun”. Spain was also the first country ever to have a logo-the splashy red sun painted by Joan Miró in 1983. Some destination logos work–like the black and red “I LOVE NY” design of Milton Glaser that’s been around ever since the 70s. Others fail to grasp the spirit of a place (cough, Italia). Reducing one’s country to a crazy font and some cheesy clip art often detracts from that country’s best assets. Like nature.

When chasing the crunchy yuppie granola suburbanite dollar on vacation, you’ve gotta roll out Nature and promise them the kind of purity that lacks from their daily life. British Virgin Islands claims “Nature’s Little Secrets” while Belize counterclaims with “Mother Nature’s Best Kept Secret”. Switzerland urges us to “Get Natural”, Poland is “The Natural Choice”, Iceland is “Pure, Natural, Unspoiled”, Ecuador is Life in a Pure State, “Pure Michigan” is just as pure, Costa Rica is “No Artificial Ingredients”, and like a clothing tag that makes you feel good, New Zealand is simply “100% Pure”. New Zealand also wants us to believe that they’re the “youngest country on earth” but that’s pushing it. The youngest country on earth is actually Kosovo (Born February 2008)–so young they’re still working on their slogan.

And there’s a tough one–how do you sell a country that’s just poking its head out from under the covers of war and bloodshed? Kosovo’s big bad next-door neighbor Serbia asks us frankly to “Take a New Look at Your Old Neighbor”; “It’s Beautiful–It’s Pakistan” steers clear of the conflict, Colombia owns up to its knack for kidnapping by insisting, “The Only Risk is Wanting to Stay”, and Vietnam nudges our memories away from the past and towards “The Hidden Charm” of today.

Our nostalgia for simpler, better, pre-tourist times invokes our most romantic notions about travel: Croatia is “The Mediterranean as it Once Was”, Tahiti consists of “Islands the Way they Used to Be”, and Bangladesh employs a kind of reverse psychology to insist we “Come to Bangladesh, Before the Tourists.” Such slogans of unaffectedness mirror the push for national validation by tourism, where actual authenticity is second to perceived authenticity, hence Malaysia is “Truly Asia”, Zambia is “The Real Africa”, and the Rocky Mountain States make up “The Real America”. Greece is “The True Experience” and Morocco is “Travel For Real”. Everybody wants to be legit.

Countries without the certified organic label try merely to stupefy us: Israel “Wonders”, Germany is “Simply Inspiring”, Chile is “Always Surprising”, Estonia is “Positively Surprising”, “Amazing Thailand” amazes, and Dominica claims to “Defy the Everyday”. To that same surprising end, Latin America loves trademarking their exclamation points (see ¡Viva Cuba!, Brazil’s one-word essay “Sensational!” and El Salvador’s “Impressive!”)

Where punctuated enthusiasm falls short, countries might confront the traveler with a challenge or a dare. Jamaica projects the burden of proof on its tourists by claiming “Once You Go You Know”, Peru asks that we “Live the Legend”, Canada insists we “Keep Exploring”, South Africa answers your every question with a smiley “It’s Possible”. Meanwhile, Greenland sets an impossibly high bar with “The Greatest Experience”.

Working the totality of a country’s experience into a good slogan is a challenge that often leads to open-ended grandstanding: “It’s Got to be Austria” might be the answer to any question (and sounds better when spoken with an Austrian accent). Next-door Slovakia is the “Little Big Country”, insisting that size is second to experience. Philippines offers “More than the Usual” and small, self-deprecating Andorra confesses, “There’s Just So Much More” (I think what they meant to say is, “come back please”). Really big numbers carries the thought even further: Papua New Guinea is made up of “A Million Different Journeys”; Ireland brightens with “100,000 Welcomes”.

When all else fails, aim for easy alliteration, as in “Enjoy England“, “Incredible India“, “Mystical Myanmar”, and the “Breathtaking Beauty” of Montenegro. (For more on the correlation between simplistic phrases and high mental retention, See Black Eyed Peas-Lyrics).

The point of all this is that today, the internet is our atlas and Google is our guidebook. It’s how we travel, how we think about travel and how we plan our travel. Punch in a country like Tunisia and you’re greeted with a dreamy curly-cue phrase like “Jewel of the Mediterranean”–Type in next-door neighbor Algeria and you get a glaring State Department warning saying “Keep Away.” In a scramble for those top ten search results, destinations compete with a sea of digital ideas that pre-define their tourist appeal. It’s why we’ll never find that page proclaiming Iran “The Land of Civilized and Friendly People” but why a simple “Dubai” turns up Dubai Tourism in first place, along with their moniker “Nowhere Like Dubai” (which should win some kind of truth in advertising prize.)

That aggressive, American-style marketing has taken over the billion-dollar travel industry is obvious. Nobody’s crying over the fact that we sell destinations like breakfast cereal–that countries need a bigger and brighter box with a promised prize inside in order to lull unassuming tourist shoppers into stopping, pulling it off the shelf, reading the back and eventually sticking it in their cart. I guess the sad part is how the whole gregarious exercise limits travel and the very meaning of travel. By boiling down a country into some bland reduction sauce of a slogan, we cancel out the diversity of experience and place, trade wanderlust for jingoism, and turn our hopeful worldview into a kind of commercial ADHD in which we suddenly crave the Jersey Shore like a kid craves a Happy Meal.

Nobody’s ever asked me to join their tourist board focus group, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own opinions and tastes. For instance, my daily reality is a stereo cityscape of car alarms and jackhammers. Any country that simply placed the word “Quiet” or “Peaceful” in lower-case Times New Roman, 24-point font white type in the upper right hand corner of a double-truncated landscape spread–well, I’d be there in a heartbeat. Better yet–how about a one-minute TV commercial of total silence. (“Oh, wow honey, look!–that’s where I wanna go.”)

This is probably why I’ve never been in a focus group. For all the focus on authenticity and reality, I find most tourism slogans lacking in both. For the most part, they are limiting and unoriginal, easily dropped into any of the above categories. Even worse, today’s slogans challenge actual truths gained through travel experience. One day spent in any place offers a lifetime of material for long-lasting personal travel slogans. My own favorites include Russia (“Still Cold”), Turkey (“Not Really Europe At All”), England (“Drizzles Often”), Orlando (“Cheesy as Hell”), and Ireland (“Freakin’ Expensive”).

As a writer, I must argue against the cheerleaders and in favor of words–the more words we attach to a destination the better the sell. I think it’s safe to assume that Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia has done more for Argentina tourism than any of their own slogans. Similarly, Jack London gives props to Alaska, Mark Twain mystifies us with the Mississippi, and Rudyard Kipling keeps sending people to India. All four authors wrote about love, nature, and sunshine. They wrote long books filled with enthusiasm and punctuated with exclamation marks. They made us fall in love and yearn for places we never saw or knew.

No matter how many millions get spent on tourist slogans, today’s trademarked PR phraseology has generally failed to hit the mark. Perhaps they’ll make us rethink a place–reconsider a country we’d somehow looked over, but can a two or three word slogan ever touch us in that tender way, make us save up all our money, pack our bags and run away?

I don’t think so.