The Caribbean!

What is it with me and travelling, seriously?! SERIOUSLY! 

After looking forward to my new job in the warm and sunny Caribbean, I was gutted when my Saturday flight had to be rescheduled to Tuesday, as the courier couldn’t deliver my visa on the allotted day (Friday) due to heavy snowfalls across the UK. Even in Portsmouth the snow was thick and covered the whole boat! 

 

My visa arrived on the Monday and the boat suggested I get to the airport that evening as my flight was incredibly early (I needed to be there at 5am). This was a good idea, as I have Murphy ’s Law when travelling and knowing my luck there would be another snowfall in the night that would prevent the taxi from getting me to the airport or something.

So I get to Heathrow the night before my 7am flight, to ensure I had enough time and reduce the chances of anything going wrong (which, in my case is anything and everything). I spent 68 pounds to stay in a “hotel” inside terminal 4 that was made up of tiny rooms- “cabins” in a long corridor. Well crikey I didn’t expect, for 70 pounds, to be staying in a room that Bilbo Baggins would have had to crouch in. If I ever joked before about the size of boat crew cabins being like Harry Potters “the cupboard under the stairs”, it was nothing compared to this. The bed is in a hole in the wall and the shower rains onto the toilet. 

 If you sit on the loo you can pretty much reach out and almost touch the bed:

Oh well I was happy to put up with it knowing I was literally inside terminal 4, so I could walk straight out and to the check in desk. I was actually proud of myself for being so organized for once. I even went and got my bag plastic wrapped that evening to avoid having to do it in the morning, and rewarded myself by taking a leisurely stroll around the airport later in the evening and getting a Ben & Jerry’s and a Chai Latte. 

I got up in time (4:30am) and was at the check in desk by 5am. I handed over my passport and the kind lady printed my boarding passes. 

And then it started...

“I see you don’t have a return ticket? Do you have an ongoing ticket to another destination?”

 “I don’t have a return ticket as I am working on a superyacht and I get onto the boat in St Maarten. The boat is then sailing to the Mediterranean and then back to Florida, so I only need a one way ticket.”

“Unfortunately you cannot fly to St Maarten without a return ticket or ongoing ticket. Immigration will not let you through as visitors can only stay for up to 90 days”. 

“But I’m not a visitor; I’m going to work on a boat?”

“Yes but the way it works is that your travel agent needs to issue you with a return ticket, even if it is not used and then they can refund it later. This is so that immigration lets you in to St Maarten and is standard practise in your case”.

“But I have a British passport and St Maarten is half French and half Dutch? It’s part of the EU and I have a British Passport, I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry ma’am that’s just the way it works with St Maarten. You need a return or ongoing ticket.”

“But they haven’t issued me with a return or other ticket and didn’t say anything about me needing one? What am I meant to do?” I croaked, dread now setting in.

The lady looked genuinely sorry for me and said she would find out what my options are and ran off to a supervisor. They both came back and he said that yes unfortunately there was no way they could let me get onto that flight without another ticket, so I would need to purchase one, to the cheapest/nearest destination and would just need to show this to immigration. 

“But I don’t have any money” I said in a small voice. I have been living off day to day pay the last 2 weeks and even had to borrow some from my dad to start me off in my new job. I had 90 pounds on me in cash. “How much is the ticket?” I asked. 

“Its 171 pounds” the supervisor stated with not a shred of sympathy.

“I don’t even think I have enough money to pay that?”

“Well then unfortunately you won’t be able to fly today and you’ll need to change the ticket- it is changeable- with the travel agent who booked it for you and they can sort it all out before tomorrow or give them a ring now and get them to purchase the additional ticket”.

“But they’re in Florida. Its 2am there, they won’t even be awake?”

“Well unfortunately those are your only options. And there is a second problem”

Are you fucking kidding me??

“Ya?"

“You are travelling on a seamans ticket is that correct? Can I please see your seaman’s book?”

A seaman’s ticket is for marine travellers (more expensive ticket) that allows the traveller to take up to TWO hold bags of 23kg EACH. Now most seafarers have what’s called a “seaman’s book” which is a document that pretty much proves that you are a seafarer. Well I (obviously) didn't have one.

“Um... I don’t actually have one....” I said, squirming a bit.

“But then we can’t let you take this additional bag without paying for it. We have no evidence that you are actually a seafarer”

I was now well and truly panicking but trying hard to calm myself the fuck down. 

“I have my employment contract on me and letter from the boat” I said.

This seemed to be passable and they made copies of it. But the supervisor was still adamant that I had to purchase the additional ticket, so whilst he was photocopying my documents I dashed over the cash machine and inserted every card I owned and milked it dry. Added to the money I had on me, I had enough cash by 19 pounds. What an incredibly close call.

The supervisor came back and gave me my documents and said I had 5mins before the gate closed so I had to purchase that ticket asap. I ran to the ticket desk and flabbergasted and panting, tried to explain in garbled English that I urgently needed this flipping ticket in the next 30 seconds or I was going to miss my flight. I got it and bolted through security and dashed down to the departure gate which was a tube ride and a kilometre of walking away, sidestepping passengers and bags and trying not to knock over old ladies or mow over small children. I was charged with so much anxiety and adrenalin. There was no fucking way I was going to miss this flight after all THAT shit.

I got to the gate and pretty much collapsed at the desk, wheezing and clinging onto it for support, head resting on arm, with my other hand outstretched with my passport and boarding pass. 

“Have I missed it?” I asked, gasping for breath.

“No you’re alright dear, we haven’t actually started boarding yet, we’re a bit delayed today, sorry about that” she said. “Why don’t you just take a seat, you’re all good now” and waved her arm over towards about 30 other people that I hadn’t even noticed in my frenzied dash, also all waiting to board.

Well I said a prayer of thanks right there and then (not the first that day), stripped off my layers from my run and went to get a bottle of water and then collapsed in a heap on the floor to catch my breath and wait for the gate to open. Fucking hell, what a day. The next thing that was worrying me was what to say to immigration. Did I tell the truth about the boat and show my papers or do I show them that ongoing ticket that Air France forced me to buy and say that I am just passing thrugh St Maarten. I hate making up stories. 

Before leaving Amaryllis, we (the crew) spent most evenings watching one of our favourite programmes “Nothing to Declare” which is about immigration and customs at airports in the UK, Sydney and Australia. Mostly it’s people trying to smuggle in drugs and how they catch them out and then they get jailed. But it’s also about people trying to get into the country on the wrong visa or their story just doesn’t match up, and they interrogate them with questions like “Why are you a woman travelling on your own”, “Why did a third party pay for your ticket and who is this employer?”, “If you are only here for a short stay, why do you have so many bags with you?”, “Who are you staying with here and for how long?” And half the time its okay, but the other half of the time the person gets deported because their story doesn’t add up and seems dodgy. So that was now my next concern and was making me really anxious. Absolutely knackered from stress and all the bolting around the airport, I fell into a deep sleep. 

I woke to the tinkle of the food trolley (typical). I had been a little hungry when I had gone to sleep but had shrugged it off. I still wasn’t really fully awake when they put the food tray down in front of me, but I suddenly realized that I’d been up since 4:30am and it was now 12pm and I was starving. Trust the French to put on a good show: Smoked salmon, keftas de volaille (meatballs??) with jus de tomate (Harry that one’s just for you), 2 ciabatta and a small camembert, mini crackers and a chocolate éclair. AND a bottle of red wine. Not offered as an extra, but included in the tray as she pulls it out from the rack. The “optional extra” was juice. Unbelievable. They can be a bunch of total wankers, but the French really do know how to eat and drink well. 

So whilst I’m here I have to tell you that my US visa almost went pear shaped aswell. You have to pay $160 online with a credit card (thanks Dad for organizing) and then you get emailed a confirmation letter and receipt, both of which you have to take with you to the embassy. My appointment was at 9:30am last Monday and I needed the visa by Friday, so it was already cutting it fine for time as the visa usually takes 5 days to process. So you can’t screw up your interview as it could be days before you got another. And they are pretty funny about having all the right info. So I went to London on the Sunday and stayed with my cousin that night.

After a nice dinner and some wine, I said goodnight and quickly read over my documents. Well, Murphy’s Law, I came across a line from the e-mail print out that stated “.....besides your letter of appointment and receipt, please also bring the confirmation page of the online application”. Online application?? What online application?! Panic setting in, I got out my laptop and clicked on the link- 10 pages of questions and details including parents birth dates, previous dates I went to the states and those visa numbers (all with my dad back home in the safe) etc. So now its midnight and I’m on the phone to SA trying to get all the info put in. Then I see that you have to have a photo- a digital visa photo and upload it to the page. I had to get my cousin to take one the next morning and the laptop wouldn’t read my memory card and it was more swearing and hair pulling as I’d missed the train by now. 

Finally it was done and I caught the next train, with all my extra clothes (summer stuff I’d collected from my cousin who had just returned from SA.I had to give him back ALL the winter things I had just brought from home as I now didn’t need them for a year). I got to London at 9:20am, galloped down the street to my friend Kathy’s office, literally chucked my bags on the floor and then ran down the road to the embassy. I got there at 9:30am huffing and puffing, and seeing a huge queue of 50 people, made my way to the officer in charge and said I was about to miss my appointment. 

“Everyone in this queue has a 9:30am appointment, you’re all good”.

Holy mackerel, the stress of not being organized is just getting way too much for me (hence why I made such an effort with my flight from Heathrow, but even that went pear shaped). It was snowing in London and it was freezing standing there in the cold outside. But all good things come, and after a 2hr wait I was granted a 10 year multiple entry B1/B2 visa- woohoo!

So I finally arrive in the warm and sunny Caribbean! I go through immigration and just say I’m here to get onto a boat and give them my boat papers and they let me through. They didn't even ask for any ongoing ticket and when I went to the ticket desk they said sorry it’s not refundable, so Air France basically screwed me by forcing me to buy a 200 pound ticket that I didn’t even need to use. Then to add insult to injury, I sit waiting patiently for my baggage until everyone has gone and the conveyor belt comes to a slow halt. The bunch of dicks has now also lost my luggage- well actually they’d left it in France. Wankers. Because of the whole last minute buying of the additional flight, my bags were rushed through but they obviously didn't make it to the plane. 

So I arrived in St Maarten a bit pissed off, but was met by my chief stewardess who is so lovely and as soon as I walked out into the 28 degree sun outside, I didn’t really care as much. There are so many superyachts here and the kiffest looking bars and restaurants lining the streets- all kinda ramshackled and Caribbean looking, with palm tree leaves and painted colourfully, with chalk boards boasting different happy hour specials. There are one or two upmarket, modern wine bars but they’re few and far between. The crew all seem really friendly and the girls are loads of fun and all very outgoing. We went out for dinner on my first night to a little Asian place on the main road and sat outside. There was a warm breeze and the sound of drums and Caribbean music wafted down the street. 

Then last night the boys took me to an area called Grand Casa on the french side of the island where we went to the most amazing bar/restaurant. It was literally on the sand and there was a band playing salsa music and a woman singing and dancing. There are lots of tables outside on the sand, going right down to the water and you can see all the catamarans in the ocean in the background.  

There was a little Caribbean girl who must have been only 5, who was there with her parents and she just couldn't get enough of the dancing, so I kheld her hands and danced with her and then later on she just wanted me to pick her up the whole time. She was so cute.

 

It was all exactly what I had pictured. I cannot wait to get out and explore this island. There is apparently so much to see and do and luckily I have 3 months to do it in! The diving is apparently amazing here and the boat has a connection, so I can go and do my PADI open water and I start beginning of Feb. There is a pajama party at a place called Sandbar tonight and then tomorrow I am going with the boys to Pinel Island which is in the marine reserve of St Martin. The beach is apparently beautiful and is considered to be one of the best snorkelling locations (pic below of compliments of Google):

We get a free gym membership to the resort gym which is about 100m away. It has a full gym, tennis courts, a pool and classes including spinning, pilates and salsa (so keen). Boss arrives on 1 Feb and then we work 5 days on 1 day off. But we get a 2hr break each day so you can go to the gym still or go to the resort and just lie by the pool in the sun or go to the beach. So it’s a pretty great deal!  Absolutely loving life right now although I do miss the kiwi boy a bit :)

New Year's Resolutions and a New Job!

A new year...

"A time to stop and reflect on the year that has gone by- to remember both our triumphs and our missteps;  our promises made and broken; the times we opened ourselves up to great adventures or closed ourselves down for fear of getting hurt. Because that’s what new years is about- getting another chance. A chance to forgive, to do better, to do more, to give more, to love more;  and stop worrying about what if and start embracing what will be.”

This excerpt from the movie “New Year’s Eve” couldn’t more perfectly put into words how I feel at this very moment. I’m not sure how 2012 was for you, but for me it was a year with a lot of ups and downs, achievements and disappointments. I got a fantastic job, I started weight (gym) training and reached some goals I didn’t think were possible, got my heart broken, made a sudden spontaneous life changing decision to go on an adventure to work on yachts and I packed up my life and entered the unfamiliar. It was scary, but the fact that I did it is an achievement on its own. My adventure has brought its own ups and downs- new friends, exciting new places, the stress of finding a job in an unfamiliar industry, meeting an amazing guy, being uprooted from all of that and moving far away, financial worries, rejection and disappointment.

When we take risks in life we open ourselves up to being vulnerable- to getting hurt or things going the opposite way to what we thought they would. With risk there is often no middle ground, its either going to go very well or really badly. But if you don’t risk it, you’ll never know will you? You might not experience the really bad, but you aren’t giving yourself the opportunity to experience the really good either- something that may seem scary but could be something incredible that changes your life. 

We only have one life (one fairly short life actually) and we should be living it up to the fullest. We need to be brave and overcome our fears- take that leap/ chance/ risk. Only then are we giving ourselves the chance to experience true happiness. We should be ticking things off our bucket list every DAY not waiting till we are old and doing these before we die or it’s too late. So my new year’s resolution is to make a bucket list today and start ticking things off my list. And I really think that you should do the same. Even just writing it will inspire you; as you start writing what you want to see, do, experience and accomplish- all those things you dream about doing “one day”.

I don’t really believe in New Year’s resolutions, I think it’s pretty silly, as goals can be made at any time of year. But a new year brings hope, and, as we look back on the previous year, a clean slate. So it’s a good place to start. The trick with goals is to be specific. If they are too vague then they are not measurable, so you are setting yourself up for failure. Don’t say “lose weight”, rather say “lose 4cm” and don’t say “get fitter”, say “run a half marathon in 6 months time” or “be able to do 50 push-ups by November”. They need to be measurable- and realistic in order for you to stay motivated and succeed. “Give up chocolate” is not going to be realistic, but “one small chocolate twice a week” is. You can call them New Year’s resolutions or goals or whatever you want; but mine are going to be the start of my lifetime bucket list. Many people don’t like to share theirs as they are private, but I’m open and honest and always wear my heart on my sleeve- as you know- so I’ll share some of mine with you.

2013’s Bucket list and resolutions 

1. Start learning a new language
2. Get an amazing job on a busy charter boat with an exciting itinerary
3. See2 new countries this year
4. Try to be more guarded and only really trust people when you have truly got to know them
5. Talk less, listen more
6. Commit to exercising 5 times a week, no matter what
7. Save money! (yes I do have measurable goals for this one...)

There we go!

Well there is no point in all talk and no action. So then you need to go and make it happen. 

Well... since writing that list I bought a Spanish language package and have started learning Spanish. If you happen to walk passed my cabin in the evenings, you will hear me enthusiastically (maybe slightly too enthusiastically) whipping out Spanish phrases, trying determinedly to get my accent to match that of the Spanish tutor on the audio set. 

I also started to make a plan with finding my dream job- and last week updated my CV, sent it to all the agents and just started applying to everything that sounded exciting. My dream job was always to work on a yacht that followed summer- so summer in the Mediterranean and winter in the Caribbean on a charter boat. Private boats just have the owner on at certain times of the year and you just get a standard salary. With boats that are chartered, the owner is on at times, but it is also hired (chartered) out. You then have guests on board and get tips per charter. In a charter season you can make quite a wad of cash in tips, but you do work your butt off. I was applying for loads of jobs and hadn’t really had much feedback, but I just had this positive feeling that something exciting was on its way!

Then yesterday, out of the blue, I get a call from an American captain on a boat in St Maarten in the Caribbean (yes the captain phoned direct!) asking if I would be interested in a stewardess position. He said their itinerary is to spend the next few months in the Caribbean where they will have the owner onboard and then in April cross over to the Med where they already have charters booked for Croatia and Turkey! I couldn’t believe it. That was my dream job right there! 

I spoke to him and the chief stewardess and they said they wanted someone fun and outgoing and they saw my CV and thought I would be a good fit. After we chatted, they said they loved my enthusiasm and weren’t worried about my experience as you can teach that; but the most important thing for them is to have someone with the right attitude who will be a good fit in the team.  And then they offered me the position. I just needed to resign and get my B1/B2 visa which they would send me documentation for. So I went straight upstairs, nervous as all hell and told my captain that id been offered my dream job and I was leaving. He was incredibly understanding and my chief stewardess was really supportive. So I called the boat back and said I could start in 10 days time and they offered me the position. And I was hired! Just like that! Within an hour. I couldn’t believe it. My life had just done a 180 degree turn. 

Today I received my contract and booked my appointment for Monday at the US embassy in London for my visa. It all seems so surreal still. At the appointment I will find out how many days it will take to get my visa. The boat will then book (and pay) for my flight and I will fly out the day I get my visa. So I’m looking at the end of next week! I cannot wait to get out of this hole (cold, rainy Portsmouth in England where there is absolutely fuck all to do) and be in the sunshine, partying on the beach and meeting loads of other yachties! 

Happiness!!

So you see..... if you put your mind to things and make goals, you CAN make it happen :) In the words of Nike “Just do it!”.

See y’all on the other side! 

Vigo and Portsmouth!

Howzit!

So my last blog ended with us leaving Gib and my last day was spent franticly buying up most of the high st (including 8 monkeys for my nephews/nieces/godchildren). A superyacht called Flying Fox pulled up next to us the last 3 days. Due to the weather up towards (and including) the ominous Bay of Biscay, we were being cautious about when to leave Gib. But when Flying Fox left before us, I tried to drop a few hints to our captain that we should follow suit and just take a bit of a beating if necessary, or we would be stuck in Gib for the rest of my life. So the next day we were informed that we would creep up the coast to Vigo, in Northern Spain, just before the Bay of Biscay and then as soon as there was a gap in the weather we’d take it. 

Vigo- another industrial shit hole town. We felt the cold the minute we arrived. An 8 degree drop from Gib. There wasn’t all that much to do there except shop, so I purposefully stayed away to avoid the temptation. Flying Fox was there again and I decided to make friends and went out for dinner with them twice. Some of the menu items had us in giggles: 

We finally arrived in Portsmouth last Saturday- English speaking, first world civilization- thank fuck, I was about to do my head in. After 2.5 weeks in shitty Gibraltar and then 3 days in Vigo, I couldn’t wait to get a train to London the second I arrived. Holy cow Portsmouth is cold though- 2 degrees. When we left Antibes it was between 12 and 16 in the day, so it’s a huge drop in temp and clever fish here came to Europe in Winter without a coat (fail). So Saturday morning after we anchored, I wrapped in the warmest clothes I had, put on my new long suede boots and pretty much ran to the train station fantasizing about the joys of London and seeing my hot kiwi boy (whose name is Harry by the way), who was going to be in London for the weekend and whom I haven’t seen in about 3 weeks. 

The train ride to London is about 2hrs so not so bad. The kiwi was at rugby with the boys, so I went to visit one of my best friend’s brothers- Ian and hung out with him all afternoon. Later that night I went through to the kiwi and his crew who were staying like 45mins away (I forgot how far away everything is in London). We had a bit of a party and then Sunday morning I went to go see my cousin and we went ice skating! For someone who hasn’t ice skated in a few years I did pretty well! I asked my chief stew if I could stay another day to spend some more time with my kiwi boy and I was super stoked when she said yes! I went back to meet the crew and we headed off to a kiff little pub in Wandsworth called The Ship, which is awesome! God Harry is hot, flip. Makes me tingly every time I look at him.  And turns out he can also be really sweet. His friends are just hilarious and I spent the entire night laughing. Decided that kiwi’s are pretty awesome. 

So after a rather sad goodbye from my side, I headed back to Portsmouth and started planning a trip back to Antibes.  Which is now booked and paid- radness! I pretty much land in Heathrow the get on another plane and go straight to Antibes for the weekend- jet setter of note! Can’t wait! Equinox here I come (if I’m allowed back in this time)! 

My roommate finally arrived back from her holiday on Monday. I was a lil nervous of meeting her incase she didn't like me or would get fed up with my snoring and beat me over the head with a pillow in the middle of the night. But she is pretty kiff! She is small like a gnome; pretty and has the most contagious laugh and we get on like toast and jam. We decided to head out for some shopping after work this week and I managed to get some rad Christmas presents, but as usual (I can’t help myself) I fell in love with a gorgeous cream dress and some black ankle boots. 

There was also a pair of patent, dusty pink Kurt Geiger shoes, but I managed to summon the will power to say no to them. 

So I’ve covered my eat/love and now back to the “pray I don’t get fat” bit.

Well...

With 2 week’s till the wedding I stepped up my exercise routine a few weeks ago and then tried to start this weird super strict diet for the last 2 weeks where If I want to eat carbs I have to run off and do 40 squats beforehand (something about it opens up your muscle fibers so whatever you eat is absorbed into your muscles as opposed to being stored for energy- fat).  And I have been trying to have a shake as a meal replacement once a day for either dinner or lunch. I could do that, but then 3 hours later I’d be found raiding the snack cupboard, munching chips and eating biscuits like a squirrel that had just come out of winter hibernation and discovered his secret nut pile.  So after sitting down and having a stern chat with myself, we agreed that I have no will power and can’t live without food, so I’d just try to exercise more and eat tiny portions of as much healthy food as possible (no starch, but can snack on the occasional biscuit or small choccie) and if I don’t have the body that I did when I was 23 then sod it, I don’t actually care anymore (Bridget Jones moment). Food is the second most pleasurable thing in the world to sex and I refuse to go through life missing out on the joy of eating. Life is too short. 

I have also successfully managed to stop drinking wine (my favourite thing) and treat myself just once every 2 weeks to a glass- which I think has actually had the biggest impact on my weight. My first month in Antibes was just a booze fest and I went through a few bottles a night. And this coming few weeks in Cape Town with Tam’s wedding festivities and Christmas, is going to be a huge piss up, so I’m glad I’ve had a detox.

Well me and the girls finally managed to see Twilight the other night and it was even better than I had worked it up to be! We had a lovely dinner beforehand (I was stoked to see there was "Cape Town" pizza on the menu), then each got a tub of Ben & Jerrys which we scoffed down. 

Me and Lara Para

Alice, El and La

We sat in the cinema, wide eyed, shrieking when Taylor Lautner took his top off in one of the first scenes- omg he is ripped. You don’t know what to do with your hands cos you just want to reach out and touch those muscles- aah! 

Die hard fans....

 We put up the Christmas tree in our crew mess on Friday and ate mince pies and played Christmas music. Lara and were so excited, like little kids, bouncing around with Christmas decorations and singing (very out of tune) in everyone’s ear.

Decorations!

Alice and La

Me and El

Our finished tree!

The gingerbread man on my cabin door

All the girls (crap photo quality thanks to Olly...)

I spent the whole of yesterday shopping for Christmas presents and think I managed to ace most of it, including some Percy Pigs for Harry. The shopping in Portsmouth really isn’t that bad- there’s a big shopping centre with a Topshop, Miss Selfridge, Primark, Next, H&M etc and then Gunwharf Quays (the marina where our boat’s berthed) has all the outlet shops for Ralph Lauren, Hugo Boss, Ted Baker, GAP etc. Restraining myself was incredibly hard and took a huge amount of will power. I had to tear myself away from GAP and a silver sequined skirt that fitted like a glove(I actually hid it behind a pile of clothes incase I wanted to come back for it later this week). We literally have the marina outside our front door. The boat is pretty much parked inside the wharf- I walk out the boat and can fall into Ted Baker (or fall out Tiger Tiger/The Slug and Lettuce and into the boat...). 

View of the marina as I step off the passarail. Tiger Tiger on the right...

View of boat from the shops

On watch today so spent the day polishing silver (thrilling). Cape Town soon- cannot wait! Beach, sun, driving a car, sushi and wine at Wakame, wedding, Christmas, Tiger Tiger and seeing all my favourite people (yes that’s you). Lots of loves, see you soon!