A Journey

For someone who used to 'commute' for 6 months of the year to my other life in New Zealand I find it strange to have to accept that I now find the idea of flying to Edinburgh and staying in a hotel for a couple of nights to go to a wedding quite stressful. Have I got everything I need in my kilt bag? I know I've got my kilt but..... It's not the flying and I'd be okay if it was Glasgow Airport. Edinburgh Airport was always a nightmare even in the long ago days when I attended many meetings at The Scottish Office in Edinburgh. Even my son who is used to international travel on a scale I never even dreamt of can't stand Edinburgh Airport. Ho hum. Time will tell. I'll be on my way to Stornoway Airport in 40 minutes.

My hotel is in the centre of Edinburgh very near the wedding hotel. I'll be going in on the high-speed tram from the airport to the centre of Edinburgh. 

A kilt is very heavy when you are carrying it.  Highland dress is hot and heavy when you're wearing it. Here's hoping for a cool day tomorrow....and a dry one.

I'm back on Friday and my New Zealand Family arrive on Saturday. 

It's going to be a busy and enjoyable few weeks ahead.

Hopefully at least I'll have something interesting to blog about.

I Do It All The Time

In fact I've done it for 40 years. The journey between Stornoway and Glasgow used to be quite a pleasant affair. Air travel was back 'in those days'. Now it's a trial beset by security checks and long periods hanging around because of the time needed to ensure that one is at the departure gate in good time having negotiated all the obstacles to ensure secure travel.

When I first came to Stornoway in the '70s it was a case of turning up at the airport with your ticket some time before the plane's door had been closed (and for some people after it had been closed), having a chat to the British Airways staff and enjoying the trip with it's appropriate refreshments on the hour-long journey. On one occasion I was even driven out onto the taxiway in a police car as the plane (a Loganair Twin Otter) delayed its take-off.

Stornoway airport was little more than a few portacabins in those heady days. I've tried to find some photographs on the internet of the airport in the '70s but so far without success. I wonder if I ever took any. Since I wrote that I have found this on the internet but I cannot find the copyright holder so if I'm infringing a copyright please let me know and I'll either acknowledge it or remove the photo. The picture is older than the '70s but the building is the same as it was when I came to the Island. The buildings behind the terminal building were Meteorological Office buildings. Stornoway Airport was also home to an RAF station.

The planes used were Vickers Viscounts and they were really good to fly in. 

On one occasion the Captain (I can even remember his name) decided that it was such a beautiful summer day he would show us Fingal's Cave and took the plane right down to give us all a good look. He did issue the safety warning though for "those on the starboard side - that is the right hand side - not to all rush over to the port side to have a look or we'd tip the plane over." I suspect that was 'unacceptable' behaviour 35 years ago but I hate to think what the consequences would be these days. Anyway we all enjoyed it.

I can recall when 'security' was first introduced and bags were searched for the first time. Usually for those who were regular travellers well known to the staff the security went something like "Good morning Mr Edwards. Off to Glasgow again? On you go." The idea of peering into one's briefcase just didn't enter into it. We knew many of the pilots and the cabin staff too.

Ah those were the days my friend. We thought they'd never end. But they did. Oh how they did. 

Now Stornoway has a superb airport with security greater than I've encountered anywhere else in the world (including LA!) and the flying experience is just something to be endured.

I found this on the internet too but I'm assuming my brother will allow me to use it!

Auckland

I’m writing this in Auckland’s Domestic Terminal with a couple of hours to wait for my flight to Napier.  The flight from Hong Kong was completely uneventful: just how a long-haul flight should be!  So what is there to tell you?  Unsurprisingly the answer is ‘nothing’.  The odd thing is that when I was sitting on the plane waiting to disembark I thought of all sorts of things to say.

When I got to Immigration I realised what makes entering NZ so special compared with any other country I’ve been to - including the UK!.  It’s the friendly welcome.

Having come through the Biosecurity checks quickly and painlessly I was out in the sun walking between International and Domestic: a walk I have done at least twice a year since 2005. It is a walk which, for some inexplicable reason, I feel is the proper start of my journey home and not just a journey between countries.

Things are different in New Zealand.  Domestic flights are still like they were between Glasgow and Lewis in the Good Old Days ie about 25 years ago when security as we know it today was unnecessary, where the same staff greeted you at the airport year in and year out and therefore knew you.

Mind you there are still moments like that at Stornoway.  A few years ago when I was travelling weekly between Stornoway and Glasgow for several months I walked towards the check-in desk and as I approached it the person behind the desk already had my boarding pass prepared and gave it to me with a ‘I’ve given you your favourite seat again, Mr Edwards’.

A couple of years ago as I boarded the Auckland to Napier flight for the last leg of my journey home to Napier and was welcomed on board with ‘Graham, you’re back. Wonderful’ and a chat before I took my seat. The flight attendant is a lady (I nearly said girl’ which to me she is but I realise that that isn’t PC these days) from nearby whom we know.  How special and at home does that make you?

 So my next posting should be as a Hebridean in New Zealand.  See you there - I hope.

Hong Kong

Well that was undoubtedly the best $10 US I’ve spent for a long time.  Possibly since the last time I was in Hong Kong International airport.  For the $10 you get access to a lovely clean, powerful shower and bathroom/washroom facilities with all the toiletries including tooth brush and paste all provided.  I feel like a new man.  Come to think of it that’s how my last partner felt: like a new man.  Leastways that’s what she acquired!  But I digress.

The flight from LHR was a dream.  I do love Air New Zealand. The seats are roomy and comfortable.  I had decided to pay for an upgrade but when I realised that the new seat configuration was only on the flights via LA I withdrew.  The seats in Premium are not that much better than the Economy seats and my legs aren’t that long since I got older and shrunk an inch or so.

So, after a wander around the commercial concourse, I now have 15 minutes to re-board for the next 11 or 12 hours to Auckland.

It seems quite strange to be sitting here in Hong Kong knowing that my son Gaz and his girlfriend Carol are not that far away and will be following me the day after tomorrow.

Another reason that I love Hong Kong Airport is that it has free wi-fi internet access so whilse I am waiting I can read some of the 30 emails I see have arrived since I left the UK and perhaps catch a blog or two or even write an email.  After all there is 10 minutes to boarding!

I hope the rest of my Blogger friends are as happy as I am at the moment.

Just Like Old Times

Recently I've been travelling between Stornoway and Glasgow by air. This is something I used to do almost weekly for a while and, for many years I travelled on and off the Island and up and down the Islands by plane and helicopter. I could not even begin to guess the number of sectors I have flown over the years. What is the relevance of this? When I stopped travelling so much one of the things I missed was meeting people at the airports and catching up with news. It was also an excellent opportunity to do what in modern parlance is called networking.

Over the last 6 weeks or so I have been meeting people in airports again and I have to say that it has felt really good. I have caught up with people whom I'd not seen for ages. I've caught up with news. I've become a temporary member of The Airport Club again. It's great. And it has surprised me. I've never been one for Clubs. But I hadn't realised just how much I have missed not being a member!

All that apart the journey home on Friday evening was quite emotional. Every time I fly above the clouds in the sunshine on my way to Stornoway or Napier I feel the freedom and experience the longing for home. There is something about flying in a turboprop aeroplane that one doesn't experience in a jet.

A Foggy Day

I went to Glasgow today. Once upon a time in another incarnation it was something I did quite often. Now I usually do it as part of a longer trip away from the Island. I was due to leave at 0830 and return at 2100. But June is the month of potential fogs on Lewis surrounded as we are by sea. So this morning after three days of glorious sunshine I woke up to a thick mist enveloping the house. As I was up at 0600 and the plane wasn't due to take off until 0830 I wasn't too worried. In any case my appointment wasn't until lunchtime.

And so it was that I spent a morning at Stornoway Airport. As luck would have it there were quite a few people there from my previous incarnation and the period of nearly four hours until the plane took off passed in a flash of catching up with local news and acquaintances.

I arrived at my appointment with minutes to spare and immediately after it I set off for the return journey and spent an hour at Glasgow Airport catching up on the computer, drinking coffee and looking out of the window:

Half way acroos the Minch the Captain of the plane told us that Stornoway was again fogbound and that we might not be able to land. But good fortune smiled upon us and just as we arrived the fog parted and we landed. As I drove out of the airport it was again shrouded in fog.

Ah yes. It's been a Good Day. But as the fog rolls in over the headland this evening I am glad that I don't have to do it all again tomorrow.