03 July 2008

Journey to the Centre of the (Well Paying English Teaching Job) World

I spent a good long while cursing myself for not bringing a notebook, and grunting frustratedly at the internet for not doing my bidding so that I could weblog away, then suddenly I realised that I had been given the scrapbook/notebook type thing by Pygmy that had been in my hand(bag) all along. So it's been filled up with notes, and then finally, finally converted into this mess.

I do have my shiny laptop, so I probably could have at least written with it, even if I might not have been able to immediately post online, but I enjoy actually phyically writing down my thoughts. Also, being extremely blonde, I didn't really think of it.

So here I am, in Seoul. It still hasn't really sunk in yet- I think partly because I left London in such a random and abrupt little whirlwind. Spires and I made a plan to come here, and when she dropped out I decided to persevere anyway, despite the fact that it was all her idea.

Quite frankly I need a pithier and less lame sounding response to the question of what I'm doing here. From now on when someone asks I'll just tell them it was "a whim".

Saying goodbye to everyone (friends, family, and my boyfriend especially) and leaving was so hard.

But at the same time leaving was so easy. I seemed to just sit still for 24 hours or so, and suddenly I was across the other side of the world, with an overwhelming sense of, "Huh. So."

Planes really aren't my preferred method of travel, I don't really have a problem with flying, it's just that when I travel I like to have the sense that I'm actually travelling. I adore long train journeys where I can stare at the world whizzing past outside the window, preferably whilst I'm practically falling out of my seat or bunk due to the high speed. I love long car journeys- in fact I hate stopping, I always want to keep going for ever. So I longed to be travelling like that, or to feel the wind whip through my hair as I rode across Eurasia with my trusty squire, Anne Dudek dressed as Sancho Panza! Hell, I would have been content with walking if my bags weren't so heavy.

Not only heavy, but apparently also 4kg overweight, even after I retired several books and my laptop charger to my handluggage, accessorised my outfit with a belt from the bag and grumpily handed over my pile of books to read and the later seasons of The West Wing to my mother. She paid the extortionate fee for me, which still didn't make me feel much better. It's such a ridiculous sum of money (arbitrarily raised by me destination), and I think I deserved a little more sympathy and understanding since I am leaving for a fricking year. Yes, the world does revolve around me, thank you.

I suppose an argument could be made that books and DVDs aren't essential to my survival, but anyone arguing that is an idiot and deserves to be shot.

Anyway, after some fuming, lunching and tearful goodbyes I set off for the long walk to the gate, and before I knew it I was on the plane. I really hate walking past the first and business class seats en route to my perch in the aeronautical equivalent of the noosebleed section. It's as if the walk is designed to turn you green with envy (not nausea, at this point in the journey at least) until you break down and agree to hand over all your money, your soul and first born for the opportunity to sit in a larger chair with a marginally nicer TV screen. I understand that my ire probably isn't enough to bring about the downfall of the entire capitalist system and the idea that those who are willing to pay more ought to get more and/or better, but I think it's especially foul to place it all on one plane. Why can't they just make scummy Easyjet stylee planes for us masses, and shunt the others elsewhere? Otherwise they are just showcasing the airlines abilities and efforts to make the aeroplane and the journey as comfortable and pleasant as possible, and their attempts to systematically deny most of the passengers exactly this comfort and pleasure. It's sick, and I'm sure could potentially backfire on them- and who really wants to be dealing with a revoluion at X thousand feet?

This trip was my first time flying with Emirates (although I had previously flown with their, fairly unimpressive, sister company Etihad). I have to say I wasn't really bowled over with joy, it was decent but not anything I feel inclined to wax poetical over. I will however readily admit that the service was great, the food wasn't horrible and there was an admittedly great selection of films, TV shows, music and more.


Naomi Penn said...

What is the Pygmy book? Is it what I gave you, or did the actual Pygmy give you something? And Emirates is pretty good methinks! :)

Miss Anne Throp'ist said...

The actual Pygmy gave me that notebook, were you not there? It's all scribbled in, and has pics of us stuck in!

How can you think I might be referring to you? Your name is Naomi, do try to remember what's going on.

Emirates was good, but not some the amazing transcendental experience that some had suggested. Bah.

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