Slightly later Sunday 27th May and no longer stuck in Baku
If there is one thing that I hate more than travel it is travel at very short notice. I was minding my own business writing my blog, complaining about being stuck in Baku when my wife called to say that she had hurt her eye and needed me home urgently to help look after our son. I managed to get a ticket to the UK via Istanbul and departed for the airport immediately. Unfortunately I had just hand washed a load of pants and socks so they are now tied up in a plastic bag in my suitcase.
So I was bitching about still being in Baku and a couple of hours later I am sitting in a busy A320 with a change of planes and a nine hour journey ahead of me. Check in was mercifully quick and the airport fairly quiet (Sunday) so straight through immigration and up to the slightly weird Russian peasant themed restaurant. Time for lunch because I have a perilously short stopover in Istanbul before joining my flight for London.
Ok I am on the plane and it is not good news. It is a full flight and I am in an aisle seat next to a man who seems to be playing the how wide apart can I get my legs game. I can tell you that he is doing pretty well so far and he is half way into my meagre space. You have just got to love fellow passengers who take no notice of what they are told. Old wide legs decided to put his table down just before take off. He was told to close it and did so whilst grumbling only to put it straight back down and commence texting during take off. Seat belts are for sissy’s because that was soon discarded as well.
Ok we are in the air and I now have three hours next to this hairy moron. In economy the hot towels are really just damp pieces of paper but I do think that they are meant for freshening the hands and face. Maybe I have been wrong all this time and they are actually for cleaning the inside of your ears because that is what he did. Ok he has now discarded the soggy paper towel and is raking around with his fingers and inspecting the ear wax before flicking it onto the floor. Once again the romance of air travel and exposure to different cultures impresses me so much.
Food arrived and Mr wide legs has obviously decided to show off his skill at eating his entire meal with a spoon and his face a couple of centimetres above his tray. Total concentration shovelling it in and only lifting his head occasionally to push in large chunks of bread roll and noisily slurp red wine. He is an exceedingly efficient eater because mere mortals like me put in a fork full, chew, swallow and then repeat the process, whilst he just keeps shovelling everything and then filling his mouth with wine prior to chewing. Ok some of the food does fall back out of his mouth and there is some dribbling but it makes eating a quick process. Another useful lesson from my travels
We are coming in to land at Istanbul and the cabin crew are having some difficulties in getting people to put their seat belts on. It was in any case to no avail because one passenger lay down across three seats and seemed to be asleep with his head poking into the aisle as we landed. Maybe its the new AZAL brace position
Touch down and the seat belts are off as soon as the first tyre tread makes contact with the runway. Pushing, shoving and general bad behaviour ensued but the cabin crew had given up at this point. I have a very tight connection and I had to run to Turkish airways transfer at the other end of the airport to get my boarding card. Through the most lackadaisical security and down to my gate just in time. I notice that my boarding card says row 13 middle seat, how lovely! This will increase my interaction with the people of differing cultures either side of me and I will learn a lot and grow as a person.
Anyway I did not have to wait long and we are boarding the totally full A320 when they suddenly changed their minds and instructed us to leave the plane and return to departures. As soon as we had all sat down they then then told us to board the plane again without any explanation. Once they had us trapped in our seats and the door closed, they announced that there would be a delay of at least an hour. I was incredibly thirsty not having had a chance to buy a drink at the airport I politely asked if I could have a glass of water. The reaction was something similar to Oliver asking for more porridge. I did not get my water and I was too scared to ask again. We took off 90 minutes later.
The flight did not go well because after about one hour there was an announcement asking if there was a medical doctor onboard the plane. The use of the word medical is probably to stop a doctor of botany trying to treat a sick passenger. There was indeed a doctor onboard and there was a flurry of activity at the front of economy. Nothing more was said but a short while later I felt the plane change direction and I could feel my ears popping as we descended. Thinking ‘this is not good’ my concerns were proven correct when they announced that we were shortly landing in Cologne to disembark a sick passenger. Very sorry for the sick person but isn’t this another example of the joys of air travel. We descended towards the German runway but aborted the landing horribly late and rattling on full thrust we climbed back into the sky. Maybe the passenger has made a miracle recovery, maybe the doctor had healing hands. No the pilot just fucked up and we are doing a huge circle to see if he can make less of a hash of it this time.
We land safely and paramedics were onboard in a flash to remove the ailing lady. We did not leave in a flash because of course we now had to refuel. It is stupid o’clock when we land at Heathrow Terminal 4 and thankfully there are no long queues at passport control. I did not bother trying either of my UK passports at the electronic gates because neither work in the UK but they do in Europe and even Norway. A rather grumpy passport control man asked me why I had not used the machine so I explained that it was because it never even scans my face. The instant I place my passport on the glass, it says ‘seek assistance’. He scanned my passport and it seems that there is a very naughty person with the exact same name and date of birth. Until this criminal passes away, pops his clogs, becomes deceased, I am destined to queue up and be interrogated as to why I didn’t use the electronic gate. Please travel bloggers tell me something good about this example of travel.
At last I’m home. Did I mention that I love home even with an injured wife and a child that woke up just as we were dropping off to sleep.
If there is one thing that I hate more than travel it is travel at very short notice. I was minding my own business writing my blog, complaining about being stuck in Baku when my wife called to say that she had hurt her eye and needed me home urgently to help look after our son. I managed to get a ticket to the UK via Istanbul and departed for the airport immediately. Unfortunately I had just hand washed a load of pants and socks so they are now tied up in a plastic bag in my suitcase.
So I was bitching about still being in Baku and a couple of hours later I am sitting in a busy A320 with a change of planes and a nine hour journey ahead of me. Check in was mercifully quick and the airport fairly quiet (Sunday) so straight through immigration and up to the slightly weird Russian peasant themed restaurant. Time for lunch because I have a perilously short stopover in Istanbul before joining my flight for London.
Ok I am on the plane and it is not good news. It is a full flight and I am in an aisle seat next to a man who seems to be playing the how wide apart can I get my legs game. I can tell you that he is doing pretty well so far and he is half way into my meagre space. You have just got to love fellow passengers who take no notice of what they are told. Old wide legs decided to put his table down just before take off. He was told to close it and did so whilst grumbling only to put it straight back down and commence texting during take off. Seat belts are for sissy’s because that was soon discarded as well.
Ok we are in the air and I now have three hours next to this hairy moron. In economy the hot towels are really just damp pieces of paper but I do think that they are meant for freshening the hands and face. Maybe I have been wrong all this time and they are actually for cleaning the inside of your ears because that is what he did. Ok he has now discarded the soggy paper towel and is raking around with his fingers and inspecting the ear wax before flicking it onto the floor. Once again the romance of air travel and exposure to different cultures impresses me so much.
Food arrived and Mr wide legs has obviously decided to show off his skill at eating his entire meal with a spoon and his face a couple of centimetres above his tray. Total concentration shovelling it in and only lifting his head occasionally to push in large chunks of bread roll and noisily slurp red wine. He is an exceedingly efficient eater because mere mortals like me put in a fork full, chew, swallow and then repeat the process, whilst he just keeps shovelling everything and then filling his mouth with wine prior to chewing. Ok some of the food does fall back out of his mouth and there is some dribbling but it makes eating a quick process. Another useful lesson from my travels
We are coming in to land at Istanbul and the cabin crew are having some difficulties in getting people to put their seat belts on. It was in any case to no avail because one passenger lay down across three seats and seemed to be asleep with his head poking into the aisle as we landed. Maybe its the new AZAL brace position
Touch down and the seat belts are off as soon as the first tyre tread makes contact with the runway. Pushing, shoving and general bad behaviour ensued but the cabin crew had given up at this point. I have a very tight connection and I had to run to Turkish airways transfer at the other end of the airport to get my boarding card. Through the most lackadaisical security and down to my gate just in time. I notice that my boarding card says row 13 middle seat, how lovely! This will increase my interaction with the people of differing cultures either side of me and I will learn a lot and grow as a person.
Anyway I did not have to wait long and we are boarding the totally full A320 when they suddenly changed their minds and instructed us to leave the plane and return to departures. As soon as we had all sat down they then then told us to board the plane again without any explanation. Once they had us trapped in our seats and the door closed, they announced that there would be a delay of at least an hour. I was incredibly thirsty not having had a chance to buy a drink at the airport I politely asked if I could have a glass of water. The reaction was something similar to Oliver asking for more porridge. I did not get my water and I was too scared to ask again. We took off 90 minutes later.
The flight did not go well because after about one hour there was an announcement asking if there was a medical doctor onboard the plane. The use of the word medical is probably to stop a doctor of botany trying to treat a sick passenger. There was indeed a doctor onboard and there was a flurry of activity at the front of economy. Nothing more was said but a short while later I felt the plane change direction and I could feel my ears popping as we descended. Thinking ‘this is not good’ my concerns were proven correct when they announced that we were shortly landing in Cologne to disembark a sick passenger. Very sorry for the sick person but isn’t this another example of the joys of air travel. We descended towards the German runway but aborted the landing horribly late and rattling on full thrust we climbed back into the sky. Maybe the passenger has made a miracle recovery, maybe the doctor had healing hands. No the pilot just fucked up and we are doing a huge circle to see if he can make less of a hash of it this time.
We land safely and paramedics were onboard in a flash to remove the ailing lady. We did not leave in a flash because of course we now had to refuel. It is stupid o’clock when we land at Heathrow Terminal 4 and thankfully there are no long queues at passport control. I did not bother trying either of my UK passports at the electronic gates because neither work in the UK but they do in Europe and even Norway. A rather grumpy passport control man asked me why I had not used the machine so I explained that it was because it never even scans my face. The instant I place my passport on the glass, it says ‘seek assistance’. He scanned my passport and it seems that there is a very naughty person with the exact same name and date of birth. Until this criminal passes away, pops his clogs, becomes deceased, I am destined to queue up and be interrogated as to why I didn’t use the electronic gate. Please travel bloggers tell me something good about this example of travel.
At last I’m home. Did I mention that I love home even with an injured wife and a child that woke up just as we were dropping off to sleep.
27th May and stuck in Baku (Azerbaijan)
I should consider myself a lucky traveller because I sometimes stay at nice hotels and all funded by the company I work for. Wake up every morning in a King size bed with lovely crisp sheets and not have to worry about cooking or cleaning. Come home from work and all mess has been cleared up and even crisper whiter sheets back on the bed. A lovely shower and down to the restaurant for a company funded evening meal and glass of wine. I must have the dream job and should be grateful to receive even a small salary considering the luxury life I lead. What a load of crap! Day 17 away from my family, no young son waking full of energy, rattling the bars of his cot and climbing all over our bed smiling and laughing, not a care in the world. Now that is a great start to the day. Breakfast with the boy, porridge in his hair, giggling and looking forward to his day of playing with toys. Making rude noises that he immediately repeats and denying that I taught him how to do it! Toast for breakfast in the kitchen with the boy still in his high chair entertaining us. Nothing could be better! As for the evening meal, compare sitting alone, being served by waiters who pretend to like you and try desperately to remember your name. Ordering a severely overpriced glass of wine or should I say dribble and trying then failing to find something on the menu that I have not had before. This is what happened last night.
I worked until about eight o'clock and rather hungry after my usual Turkmenistan lunch on the ship consisting of a bowl of soup, raw fish and some bones. These large bones have fragments of meat and various ligaments attached and look as if they may have belonged to a dinosaur. Ok I digress so back to my lunch. The ships cook is a tall totally bald spooky man with a voice an octave too high and an Uncle Fester look about him. Sad to say but I think this gentleman has one less testicle than Hitler had and three less than Genghis Khan.
I should consider myself a lucky traveller because I sometimes stay at nice hotels and all funded by the company I work for. Wake up every morning in a King size bed with lovely crisp sheets and not have to worry about cooking or cleaning. Come home from work and all mess has been cleared up and even crisper whiter sheets back on the bed. A lovely shower and down to the restaurant for a company funded evening meal and glass of wine. I must have the dream job and should be grateful to receive even a small salary considering the luxury life I lead. What a load of crap! Day 17 away from my family, no young son waking full of energy, rattling the bars of his cot and climbing all over our bed smiling and laughing, not a care in the world. Now that is a great start to the day. Breakfast with the boy, porridge in his hair, giggling and looking forward to his day of playing with toys. Making rude noises that he immediately repeats and denying that I taught him how to do it! Toast for breakfast in the kitchen with the boy still in his high chair entertaining us. Nothing could be better! As for the evening meal, compare sitting alone, being served by waiters who pretend to like you and try desperately to remember your name. Ordering a severely overpriced glass of wine or should I say dribble and trying then failing to find something on the menu that I have not had before. This is what happened last night.
I worked until about eight o'clock and rather hungry after my usual Turkmenistan lunch on the ship consisting of a bowl of soup, raw fish and some bones. These large bones have fragments of meat and various ligaments attached and look as if they may have belonged to a dinosaur. Ok I digress so back to my lunch. The ships cook is a tall totally bald spooky man with a voice an octave too high and an Uncle Fester look about him. Sad to say but I think this gentleman has one less testicle than Hitler had and three less than Genghis Khan.
This rather odd man of dubious hygiene has a very limited menu i.e. it is pretty much the same each day. I am only guessing but I think the cooking process is something like this. Get a couple of large animal legs out of the fridge and boil them furiously for about five hours. Remove them from the pan, add potatoes and if you are really lucky some lentils to the stock, sprinkle with shards of bone and serve as soup. Sometimes the meat from the bone does not make an appearance but if it does it has been sautéed in copious quantities of cheap oil with a few onions thrown in for good measure. Despite five hours of boiling and then bubbling in oil, the meat is still pretty tough. One thing for sure, this animal had a hard life that involved climbing mountains or ranging prairies, it is the antithesis of Wagyu beef and probably died of natural causes. No massage has been involved in the preparation of this product! This meat, complete with all the oil is then put in a bowl and served cold along with equally cold claggy starchy spaghetti. The huge bones are then placed on the table in front of us. We all sit around one table wearing dirty smelly coveralls in the tiny mess room of the ship and the dining etiquette is as follows. Bowls of soup placed in front of us, everybody grabs handfuls of bread then feverishly and noisily slurp up the soup whilst cramming their mouths full of bread. This takes about 30 seconds and is all over whilst I am still adding pepper and salt to try and give it some flavour. I have stopped asking for bread because it is grabbed by a well meaning person with oily hands and passed to me. I do like a drop of olive oil and some balsamic with my bread but not used engine oil and bearing grease. They then tip some of the oily meat onto their plates add sticky spaghetti and shovel it in whilst dragging at the communal bones with their forks. I guess if one of them catches a disease then they all will get it. Remember, men used to tell their wives that they had not been unfaithful to them and their sexually transmitted disease was caught from a toilet seat well I wonder if sharing a dead animal could also be an excuse. Probably picked it up from some dirty bastards fork during lunch darling, not my fault, just take these tablets and you will be right as rain. Curiously there are nearly always two bowls of small raw fish, bathed in oil and sprinkled with onions. They are complete with heads and guts and I have not seen anybody eat them. Are they just for decoration? Eating one is probably like drinking your finger bowl thinking it is watery soup. Yes I did that in Korea once! You probably think that I am seriously exaggerating so on Tuesday I will take more photographs but here is one of a particularly poor lunch. Cold mash and raw fish. Cold mash with tomato sauce it is then. I didn't realise that the romantic travel blog writers much sought after experience of different cultures and foods would be like this. This is not a back packing gap year student nibbling a deep fried cricket at a street market and bombarding Instagram followers with how he or she is engaging with the local culture. Bullshit. I am engaging with the real local culinary and cultural differences and I am not sure that I particularly like them or have grown as a person for having experienced them. It is likely that I have made some friends but they are probably the new bacteria and parasites that are now resident in my guts.
Oh dear I seem to have digressed from my own digression and somehow managed to include sexually transmitted diseases so back to the point I was making. Yes I am hungry because of the previously described less than perfect lunch and possibly due to an infestation of intestinal worms that I could have picked up whilst eating the "same food as the locals and engaging with their culture". I doubt I have worms actually because the toxic anti parasitic intravenous drugs I had to endure in Venezuela nearly wiped me out never mind a bunch of worms. Ok whilst on the subject. Back packers seem to ignore the fact that people in third world countries die in their millions from food and water borne diseases that don't exist in Europe. I should know because having had amoebic dysentery I can assure you that it is not particularly clever to willingly expose yourself to these diseases. Mine was easily identified because I was incredibly ill and without swift medical intervention could easily have died of dehydration but this disease can just bide its time in your intestines showing no symptoms and then one day suddenly become active, perforate your gut and run riot throughout your body organs. My particular bugs have a habit of destroying the liver. I have done enough damage to that particular organ without having a load of parasites joining in. Ok before I do get back on track, there is a myth that you will be fine if you drink only bottled water. How does this work when I have bought big brand bottled water in Azerbaijan that turned out to be counterfeit and probably came from a rusty tap in an unhygienic basement. Bottled water in West Africa that says only "bottled at source". By the taste of it and the effect on my digestive system, the source was a flooded ditch with a dead wildebeest rotting in it. Hey gap year students writing so effusively about the joys of travel to remote places, how about some dormant intestinal parasites and a touch of malaria to start off your University studies. Its all a lot more serious than the Chlamydia you will no doubt catch during the period of your education.
Travel 26th May 2018 and still in (Baku Azerbaijan)
Well this is now well past being a joke and unusually for me, I am depressed. I need to be home for family reasons, the ship I was repairing is repaired and ready to go, I have a ticket for tonight's AZAL flight direct to Heathrow but my seat will be empty and I will be sitting at the hotel bar hoping that miraculously there is some tasty exciting dish that I have missed on the menu. I am going to be disappointed again. My planned three day visit is already at 16 days but I was full of hope when we made the dangerous journey to the shipyard. I did not shout at my driver when he lit up his camel shit cigarette and started texting whilst accelerating towards cars that were obviously braking. No Stevie was in a good mood because I only had to survive this journey, do a few hours of sea trials, get dropped off at the quayside, wave to the departing ship and head to the airport. Simple? No not in Baku it is not. Nothing is simple, nothing is what you expect and there is always a sting in the tail.
It seems that it is a holiday weekend so the authorities required are not available until Tuesday. Multi million pound ships can’t move because everybody is heading to the countryside for a holiday. People need holidays of course but ships don’t have holidays and they cost a fortune to keep idle so you cannot just shut down because it’s a bloody holiday. Azerbaijan, do you want foreign business?
Well this is now well past being a joke and unusually for me, I am depressed. I need to be home for family reasons, the ship I was repairing is repaired and ready to go, I have a ticket for tonight's AZAL flight direct to Heathrow but my seat will be empty and I will be sitting at the hotel bar hoping that miraculously there is some tasty exciting dish that I have missed on the menu. I am going to be disappointed again. My planned three day visit is already at 16 days but I was full of hope when we made the dangerous journey to the shipyard. I did not shout at my driver when he lit up his camel shit cigarette and started texting whilst accelerating towards cars that were obviously braking. No Stevie was in a good mood because I only had to survive this journey, do a few hours of sea trials, get dropped off at the quayside, wave to the departing ship and head to the airport. Simple? No not in Baku it is not. Nothing is simple, nothing is what you expect and there is always a sting in the tail.
It seems that it is a holiday weekend so the authorities required are not available until Tuesday. Multi million pound ships can’t move because everybody is heading to the countryside for a holiday. People need holidays of course but ships don’t have holidays and they cost a fortune to keep idle so you cannot just shut down because it’s a bloody holiday. Azerbaijan, do you want foreign business?
Travel 23rd May 2018 (Baku Azerbaijan)
My travelling since arriving in Baku on 13th May has been restricted to a perilous journey to the shipyard every morning and back again at night. As with most travel related activities there is nothing good about this process. I am collected from my hotel by the absolutely crazy driver of a lime green old Mercedes estate car with a badly cracked windscreen and he tries to kill me every day. I am confident that we will either smash into the back of another car or kill a pedestrian before I leave this country. Basic common sense is missing and he seems to revel in being the "Crazy Driver". Despite the fact that he is a heavy smoker with stained teeth and a terrible diet this is of no consequence because he will definitely die sitting in his car, probably with a cigarette in his mouth and whilst texting. Sorry I am wrong, he will not be sitting in his car because he refuses to wear a seatbelt so he may end up on the back seat of the car in front or a hundred meters up the road having swallowed a shedload of windscreen glass and gravel.
My travelling since arriving in Baku on 13th May has been restricted to a perilous journey to the shipyard every morning and back again at night. As with most travel related activities there is nothing good about this process. I am collected from my hotel by the absolutely crazy driver of a lime green old Mercedes estate car with a badly cracked windscreen and he tries to kill me every day. I am confident that we will either smash into the back of another car or kill a pedestrian before I leave this country. Basic common sense is missing and he seems to revel in being the "Crazy Driver". Despite the fact that he is a heavy smoker with stained teeth and a terrible diet this is of no consequence because he will definitely die sitting in his car, probably with a cigarette in his mouth and whilst texting. Sorry I am wrong, he will not be sitting in his car because he refuses to wear a seatbelt so he may end up on the back seat of the car in front or a hundred meters up the road having swallowed a shedload of windscreen glass and gravel.
The photograph on the left clearly shows the mixture of old and new with the magnificent old building on the left and the skyscrapers of Port Baku ahead. The centre photograph is my journey into work every morning and you can see the Flame Towers up on the hill. The third photograph is just to prove that the are still old style Lada cars on the road here. Below is a brief video of my morning drive along the boulevard. It is a slower version of an F1 start, with slip streaming, weaving and diving down the inside. We were well back on the grid but my driver took exception to being cut up by the white Kia so decided to dive down the inside into an impossibly small space despite the fact that White Kia man was indicating left at the time. It was close but crazy driver was happy and beaming with delight informed me that "I fuck him yes?". Unfortunately in Baku a car is a weapon and pride on the road is everything. It also leads to a huge number of deaths.
My Recent Travel 13th May 2018 (Baku Azerbaijan)
If you persevere and read my blog, you will note that I spend a lot of time travelling to and from Baku. Why Baku? Well it is one of the more advanced countries that has a Caspian Sea coastline and reasonable shipyard facilities. On this occasion I am here to look after the docking and upgrading of one of our vessels and I will be here for ten days. As you have no doubt worked out, I am an old man travelling and I have grown to hate the whole process. I love my job, I just hate the nonsense involved with travelling too and from it!
I left home reluctantly on Thursday 10th May. Gemini taxis know me very well now and only need to ask what terminal number I am going to. Joy, there was no queue at check in so a good omen for a quiet flight. No complaints about security, they have a difficult job to do but why do so many Muppets leave metal objects in their pockets so that it is all stop and they have to assume the hand in the air pose and have a good dose of radiation to boot. Ok my next security based gripe is people who do not remove their possessions from the plastic trays and stand there dressing or organising their handbags whilst everything is choked up back to the scanning machine. Pick up you possessions, stack your tray and go to the bloody tables you idiots.
I decided to visit the toilets before heading down to the gate and I was standing there at the urinal in a crowded toilet, minding my own business when I heard a familiar voice bellow “show us your cock”. Believe it or not this was a BP HSE man I used to work with in Baku and he was exceedingly drunk. After repeating his flashing request loudly a few more times, I washed my hands and left the gents rather red faced. I arrived at the gate and there he was so I could not be too rude and I had to sit near the slurring, swearing, monster that he becomes when inebriated. He was travelling with another BP employee who was trying quietly and diplomatically to suppress the offensive behavior. All to no avail and after rummaging in his rucksack for a while, scattering scrunched up receipts and used tissues on the floor he produced a half bottle of Johnny Walker Whisky and proceeded to finish it. I was very glad when boarding commenced and I could get away from him. I am going to name this next photograph "Heaven and Hell" and I will explain below.
If you persevere and read my blog, you will note that I spend a lot of time travelling to and from Baku. Why Baku? Well it is one of the more advanced countries that has a Caspian Sea coastline and reasonable shipyard facilities. On this occasion I am here to look after the docking and upgrading of one of our vessels and I will be here for ten days. As you have no doubt worked out, I am an old man travelling and I have grown to hate the whole process. I love my job, I just hate the nonsense involved with travelling too and from it!
I left home reluctantly on Thursday 10th May. Gemini taxis know me very well now and only need to ask what terminal number I am going to. Joy, there was no queue at check in so a good omen for a quiet flight. No complaints about security, they have a difficult job to do but why do so many Muppets leave metal objects in their pockets so that it is all stop and they have to assume the hand in the air pose and have a good dose of radiation to boot. Ok my next security based gripe is people who do not remove their possessions from the plastic trays and stand there dressing or organising their handbags whilst everything is choked up back to the scanning machine. Pick up you possessions, stack your tray and go to the bloody tables you idiots.
I decided to visit the toilets before heading down to the gate and I was standing there at the urinal in a crowded toilet, minding my own business when I heard a familiar voice bellow “show us your cock”. Believe it or not this was a BP HSE man I used to work with in Baku and he was exceedingly drunk. After repeating his flashing request loudly a few more times, I washed my hands and left the gents rather red faced. I arrived at the gate and there he was so I could not be too rude and I had to sit near the slurring, swearing, monster that he becomes when inebriated. He was travelling with another BP employee who was trying quietly and diplomatically to suppress the offensive behavior. All to no avail and after rummaging in his rucksack for a while, scattering scrunched up receipts and used tissues on the floor he produced a half bottle of Johnny Walker Whisky and proceeded to finish it. I was very glad when boarding commenced and I could get away from him. I am going to name this next photograph "Heaven and Hell" and I will explain below.
Heaven is of course the fact that I have three vacant seats to stretch out on and hell is to the left in the form of a hyperactive screaming child. I know children have to travel and I do feel sorry for the parents trying desperately to keep them quiet but yes it is another reason that I do not like travelling. If it wasn't for the fact that it was a girl it could have been Damian from the Omen or maybe it was Regan the head rotating girl from the Exorcist.
My next moan is not directly about travel although on this occasion it did happen during travel so I feel justified in writing about it. A man went to the toilet and made faces at the little girl as he passed. When he came out he went to do the same but was faced with a large white boob that the mother had just released from her bra. He looked away immediately and headed back to his seat but she stared at him as if he was some sort of pervert. Breast feeding in public, no problem, its normal and the majority of men will notice (yes we have eyes) and look away quickly in order not to make the mother feel uncomfortable but being glared at for having accidentally seen something is unacceptable.
Having been so happy to have three seats to myself, I lifted up the arm rests and tried to get comfortable but without a pillow it was pretty much impossible. I did however sleep for about three hours but in such an awkward position that I could hardly move and it was a painful process getting my body back to its normal shape. Anyway we are approaching Baku and heading towards dawn and it always seems spectacular on this flight.
My next moan is not directly about travel although on this occasion it did happen during travel so I feel justified in writing about it. A man went to the toilet and made faces at the little girl as he passed. When he came out he went to do the same but was faced with a large white boob that the mother had just released from her bra. He looked away immediately and headed back to his seat but she stared at him as if he was some sort of pervert. Breast feeding in public, no problem, its normal and the majority of men will notice (yes we have eyes) and look away quickly in order not to make the mother feel uncomfortable but being glared at for having accidentally seen something is unacceptable.
Having been so happy to have three seats to myself, I lifted up the arm rests and tried to get comfortable but without a pillow it was pretty much impossible. I did however sleep for about three hours but in such an awkward position that I could hardly move and it was a painful process getting my body back to its normal shape. Anyway we are approaching Baku and heading towards dawn and it always seems spectacular on this flight.
Let’s be honest, the so called Dreamliner is still a pretty uncomfortable way to travel but those curved wings are beautiful
Baku Azerbaijan travel
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 7th APRIL
I was only home briefly and it was time to set off for another ten days in Baku (Azerbaijan). One thing that I hate even more than flying is having to change planes and as my options are Azerbaijan airlines direct or Turkish with a change at Istanbul airport, I booked AZAL. Great news, the outgoing flight economy seats are full so I have to go business class. Not as good as it sounds due to the horrendous seats on this not so dreamy liner. I couldn’t care less how many different colours the interior lighting can produce or the fact that it can fly higher than other passenger aircraft, I would just dearly love a seat that would allow sleep or even dozing. If you strapped a prisoner into one of these seats and prevented him from moving for five hours it would be called cruelty, but what is worse is that I have paid for the privilege. Its against my human rights a prisoner would claim, but of course air travelers especially those in cattle class are not treated like human beings at all
As you step off the plane in Baku you are met by a line of sour faced men in uniforms covered in braid and wearing oversized hats. Hardly a welcoming sight at 0630 in the morning and after a sleepless night in the torture chair. Immigration next and more men walking up and down with ridiculous hats and generally unsmiling girls at the booths. Queue for ages whilst the men in big hats usher various government ministers families ahead of you and eventually my turn to stand on the spot for a photograph and then the long scrutiny of the passport that leaves you wishing they would find a problem so I could get back on the bloody plane and go home. No such luck, flick flick flick through the pages, more stern looks and the passport is stamped with a venomous clunk. It is now time to play the standing hopefully next to a stationary carousel game.
My bag arrives at last and I head out into the stinking air outside. If the wind is blowing in a certain direction the smell of crude oil is very strong and that's how it was that morning. Back to my favourite Boulevard hotel, quick efficient check in but the young man at the desk kept reminding me that breakfast was not included as if it was something highly unusual. I asked him if I could now include breakfast but the best he could do was include a deposit on my credit card for any expenditure during my stay. We settled on $600 which seemed a lot but at least he looked a little less worried.
I dashed off to my room quickly had a shower and as it was only 0830 decided to go down for breakfast before getting a couple of hours sleep. I waited to be seated and gave my room number. A look of great consternation crossed the face of the young hotel uniformed lady. "Sir, breakfast is not included in your booking" she said. " I know but I have left a deposit on my card at reception so I will just sign for it" I replied. "Please wait" she instructed. A man in hotel uniform now called reception and engaged in a long conversation to ensure that I had indeed left a deposit at reception. Having passed the deposit test it was all smiles and I was allowed to head towards the buffet breakfast.
I may well seem to be fixated on breakfasts but this was not a particularly good one. I asked for two fried eggs and they were instantly cracked into a pan with almost no evidence of oil. I was going to ask for him to turn them over as I hate any uncooked white but he beat me to it and put the pan under a grill for exactly the right period of time. Excellent eggs but what the hell did they do to the bacon, streaky bacon so overcooked it could not be cut with a knife, tasteless sausages and cold baked beans. Hey guys you are letting the egg cooking man down.
A different and equally worried looking hotel uniformed man arrived at my table and announced "breakfast is not included with your room" and placed a bill on the table in front of me. I signed, he looked relieved and departed! The same thing occurred each morning except one of my ten day stay. I started to feel guilty. "Oh fuck I am eating breakfast without having paid for it as part of my booking" "Don't be silly, you are sill signing for it" I thought. It was no good, they had made me feel guilty as if I had broken the rules, was engaging in a criminal act. I guess that this is not entirely their fault because on the few occasions that I have had to enter a police station, I immediately and ridiculously feel guilty of having broken some undefined law. I was in an Edinburgh police station to report the theft of my car but when faced with an officer in uniform I felt like confessing to a crime that I had not committed.
One morning I came down for breakfast a little earlier and there were no breakfast police on guard at the entrance to the restaurant. I waited and waited but nobody came. I overcame my guilty feelings, walked in, ordered two eggs, loaded up my plate with pork products, poured a large cup of coffee and sat down. I waited for the breakfast gestapo to arrive but I was left in peace. On the way out I looked for somebody to tell that I had just eaten an illegal breakfast but today it was obviously not important because I could not find anybody.
My day involves an early morning car ride to the shipyard and this usually means a number of near death experiences along the way. Drivers show zero respect for each other on the road and typically drive at high speed about one metre behind the car in front. Very scary and there really would be no way to react fast enough if the car in front braked hard. The statistics for deaths on the road are terrifying and despite BP being involved in numerous offshore activities that are fraught with danger, the biggest risk to personnel is the drive to and from work via the Salyan Highway. My driver of the gaudy green old Mercedes estate with the smell of smoke, cracked windscreen and bald tyres weaves in an out of traffic whilst texting or screaming into his phone and if he takes a break from these non driving related activities he shouts proudly “I crazy driver Yes?”. I think it’s more of a statement than a question actually.
This is a travel blog so I will not bore you with details of my days work but I will say that travel exposes you to different cultures and of course we can learn from these cultural exchanges and grow as a person. Bullshit. I don’t really want to learn about chain smoking counterfeit cigarettes whilst the so called devout follower of a certain religion tries to screw you and openly asks for bribes. All this in coveralls that have an acrid sweaty armpit smell that even overpowers the cheap burnt tobacco stench. Travel, the majority of the time exposes you to an important fact that separates civilised successful countries from those that simply wallow in bribes and kickbacks. Yes, corruption. It is everywhere!
My stay over, I risk my life with “crazy driver” and head to the airport. My return leg is economy and it’s a full flight. How joyous a travel experience this is going to be! Dreamliner? What in particular is dreamy about being stuck in a seat with insufficient leg room and shit food that has to be eaten with a plastic fork? What is dreamy about turbulence and a toilet with a floor covered in piss and you realise that you made a mistake by not putting your shoes on. Socks smelling of piss for the rest of the flight and numerous persons DNA on your feet.
I rest my case!
I return to civilisation, my family and everything I love. I am indeed an old man travelling reluctantly.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 2nd APRIL
Well thankfully I am now on my second day home and recovering from the frustrations of the airport experience and the flight. My next travel would seem to be in just two days time and this time it really is another exotic location (Aberdeen) for a meeting and then I believe return to Baku the next day. Anyway I need to finish off describing my flight home on the 31st.
Having been suitably amused by the antics of the Moscow bound travellers I headed down the the gate as boarding had been called. of course the flight was not boarding but at last I was taking my economy seat pretty much at the back of the 787 Frightliner. A lady and child, a small boy of fifteen months sat down in the row in front of me and he immediately commenced playing peekaboo through the gap in the seats. Cute child and well behaved. Well that did not last long as he screamed for about four hours of the five and a half hour flight. This was not just your run of the mill shouting these were exorcist type noised, kicking, spitting and howling that was not of this world. I was sure that if I looked, the child would be puking green vomit and his head would be spinning. During a brief respite whilst she tried to calm the monster by walking up and down the plane and thus sharing the misery, the man from across the aisle beckoned to me and whispered "I think the child is possessed by demons". Sometimes on a flight, I think I have not slept at all but there are gaps in time that indicate that I must have dropped off. Well on this occasion I am certain I did not sleep. Demonic possession is a serious matter and I wished I had some garlic and a crucifix!
Well thankfully I am now on my second day home and recovering from the frustrations of the airport experience and the flight. My next travel would seem to be in just two days time and this time it really is another exotic location (Aberdeen) for a meeting and then I believe return to Baku the next day. Anyway I need to finish off describing my flight home on the 31st.
Having been suitably amused by the antics of the Moscow bound travellers I headed down the the gate as boarding had been called. of course the flight was not boarding but at last I was taking my economy seat pretty much at the back of the 787 Frightliner. A lady and child, a small boy of fifteen months sat down in the row in front of me and he immediately commenced playing peekaboo through the gap in the seats. Cute child and well behaved. Well that did not last long as he screamed for about four hours of the five and a half hour flight. This was not just your run of the mill shouting these were exorcist type noised, kicking, spitting and howling that was not of this world. I was sure that if I looked, the child would be puking green vomit and his head would be spinning. During a brief respite whilst she tried to calm the monster by walking up and down the plane and thus sharing the misery, the man from across the aisle beckoned to me and whispered "I think the child is possessed by demons". Sometimes on a flight, I think I have not slept at all but there are gaps in time that indicate that I must have dropped off. Well on this occasion I am certain I did not sleep. Demonic possession is a serious matter and I wished I had some garlic and a crucifix!
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 31st MARCH
I am leaving packing my bag until the last moment out of sheer laziness. Although I am desperate to be home tonight, the thought of Azerbaijan airport being patted down by security guards with smelly armpits and glowered at by immigration leaves me trapped in my chair. Ok Steve do it, I am going to pack and I will report back from the airport, post smelly armpit security experience.
I have made it and I am sitting in the Azerbaijani café in departures. I have been here a while now and I was impressed because I was given a menu very quickly. Unfortunately that was about twenty minutes ago and nothing has happened since. Ok back to check in. Don't join a long queue for check in desks that say "All Destinations" on them because you will just be sent off to join a different queue. Anyway it did not take too long and I was up to security and immigration. It was a long queue comprised of two very different cultures. A flight to Sharjah with all in full Arabic dress and a flight of what appeared to be Russian football hooligans heading home to Moscow. I don't think they have a lot in common and it seemed that vodka had some bearing on their behavior. I think the crux of the argument was why do we all have to stand on the spot and have our photographs taken and we are checked carefully and suspiciously against the photographs in our passports whilst the ladies on the Sharjah flight are in full Hijab and only the eyes can be seen. One woman was wearing huge glasses so it was just a sea of black with glasses perched on a hidden nose. It could really be anybody under that dress so it makes a mockery of checking passports. I do understand their argument especially as only some of us underwent the smelly armpit pat down by security. Oh the joys of travel! What travel blog type information have I gleaned from this experience? Drunk Russians do like devout Moslems and the feelings are mutual.
Ok a bowl of chicken soup has arrived and jolly nice it is too and then cubes of lamb fried with potatoes and onions. Also very nice and even better the Russians have arrived here and are noisily trying to drink the place dry. They are all shouting bistra bistra which means quickly quickly but they are ordering main courses and bottle after bottle of wine. They are calling the Moscow flight and they are only just starting to eat. Brilliant!
The Russians have left but only after announcements that their bags are going to be removed from the plane. One of the ladies had a wine glass the size of a goldfish bowl, full to the top with red wine. She managed to gulp the lot down whilst standing up to leave.
I am leaving packing my bag until the last moment out of sheer laziness. Although I am desperate to be home tonight, the thought of Azerbaijan airport being patted down by security guards with smelly armpits and glowered at by immigration leaves me trapped in my chair. Ok Steve do it, I am going to pack and I will report back from the airport, post smelly armpit security experience.
I have made it and I am sitting in the Azerbaijani café in departures. I have been here a while now and I was impressed because I was given a menu very quickly. Unfortunately that was about twenty minutes ago and nothing has happened since. Ok back to check in. Don't join a long queue for check in desks that say "All Destinations" on them because you will just be sent off to join a different queue. Anyway it did not take too long and I was up to security and immigration. It was a long queue comprised of two very different cultures. A flight to Sharjah with all in full Arabic dress and a flight of what appeared to be Russian football hooligans heading home to Moscow. I don't think they have a lot in common and it seemed that vodka had some bearing on their behavior. I think the crux of the argument was why do we all have to stand on the spot and have our photographs taken and we are checked carefully and suspiciously against the photographs in our passports whilst the ladies on the Sharjah flight are in full Hijab and only the eyes can be seen. One woman was wearing huge glasses so it was just a sea of black with glasses perched on a hidden nose. It could really be anybody under that dress so it makes a mockery of checking passports. I do understand their argument especially as only some of us underwent the smelly armpit pat down by security. Oh the joys of travel! What travel blog type information have I gleaned from this experience? Drunk Russians do like devout Moslems and the feelings are mutual.
Ok a bowl of chicken soup has arrived and jolly nice it is too and then cubes of lamb fried with potatoes and onions. Also very nice and even better the Russians have arrived here and are noisily trying to drink the place dry. They are all shouting bistra bistra which means quickly quickly but they are ordering main courses and bottle after bottle of wine. They are calling the Moscow flight and they are only just starting to eat. Brilliant!
The Russians have left but only after announcements that their bags are going to be removed from the plane. One of the ladies had a wine glass the size of a goldfish bowl, full to the top with red wine. She managed to gulp the lot down whilst standing up to leave.
I mentioned that there was a storm brewing in yesterdays post and my goodness hat a storm it turned out to be. My visit to the dock was difficult because it was difficult to stand up and holding up my phone to take photographs not possible because the wind so strong that I could not keep the camera still. It really does get dangerous as debris flies through the air.
I went out for a late lunch with a relative and he took me to a typical Azerbaijani barbecue restaurant. The meat is not the tenderest and I am sure that this was not a low cholesterol meal but there is something that that they do with marinading the meat or during the cooking that makes it taste different from any barbecued meat that I have tasted elsewhere.
In the evening I met friends for a drink at the top of Fountain Square and when I came out there was an incredible and sustained gust for about thirty seconds that blew an old woman clean off her feet and tumble her along the pavement. We managed to grab her and get her to her feet but whilst doing so a large glass roof outside a street cafe lifted almost vertically as if hinged where it was attached to the wall and then smashed down showering all the diners below in glass. Miraculously it did not appear that anybody was hurt and they all dashed back into the main building. Along the main road out of the city, trucks were overturned and amazingly one without a trailer, was on its roof. I have added a few photographs of damage near friends houses.
I went out for a late lunch with a relative and he took me to a typical Azerbaijani barbecue restaurant. The meat is not the tenderest and I am sure that this was not a low cholesterol meal but there is something that that they do with marinading the meat or during the cooking that makes it taste different from any barbecued meat that I have tasted elsewhere.
In the evening I met friends for a drink at the top of Fountain Square and when I came out there was an incredible and sustained gust for about thirty seconds that blew an old woman clean off her feet and tumble her along the pavement. We managed to grab her and get her to her feet but whilst doing so a large glass roof outside a street cafe lifted almost vertically as if hinged where it was attached to the wall and then smashed down showering all the diners below in glass. Miraculously it did not appear that anybody was hurt and they all dashed back into the main building. Along the main road out of the city, trucks were overturned and amazingly one without a trailer, was on its roof. I have added a few photographs of damage near friends houses.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 30th MARCH
The only travel related issue for today is how incredibly bad Azerbaijani driving is. So many near misses on the way to visit a dry dock in winds so strong that I could lean against it. This of course one of the windiest cities in the world.
The hotel continues to be good and after a few gin and tonics in town last night I popped into the restaurant and had a pretty decent madras curry. I know I am in Azerbaijan so why did I not have some Dolma or something wrapped up in a vine leaf or a cabbage. Simple answer is I do not, like many travel bloggers, eat things that I do not like just for the sake of saying I ate local food and it was soooo good. This is a Muslim country but incredibly tolerant so breakfast of bacon, eggs. sausage etc is no problem but the restaurant does totally lack any character and is just a huge and pretty much empty space. See the photos below. I must not forget the panoramic views of the city as well so I have include some for you. I did not take the photos in sepia this reflects the colour of the sky as there was an incredible storm brewing and absolutely horrendous winds.
The only travel related issue for today is how incredibly bad Azerbaijani driving is. So many near misses on the way to visit a dry dock in winds so strong that I could lean against it. This of course one of the windiest cities in the world.
The hotel continues to be good and after a few gin and tonics in town last night I popped into the restaurant and had a pretty decent madras curry. I know I am in Azerbaijan so why did I not have some Dolma or something wrapped up in a vine leaf or a cabbage. Simple answer is I do not, like many travel bloggers, eat things that I do not like just for the sake of saying I ate local food and it was soooo good. This is a Muslim country but incredibly tolerant so breakfast of bacon, eggs. sausage etc is no problem but the restaurant does totally lack any character and is just a huge and pretty much empty space. See the photos below. I must not forget the panoramic views of the city as well so I have include some for you. I did not take the photos in sepia this reflects the colour of the sky as there was an incredible storm brewing and absolutely horrendous winds.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 29th MARCH
I am staying at the Landmark hotel due to the fact that everything else decent seems to be fully booked. I quite like the hotel due to the friendly staff and the fantastic views from the restaurant on the 20th floor. The place could do with an upgrade but the room is spacious and clean so no grumbles from me. Meetings with shipyards all day but that is work and nothing to do with travel.
I am staying at the Landmark hotel due to the fact that everything else decent seems to be fully booked. I quite like the hotel due to the friendly staff and the fantastic views from the restaurant on the 20th floor. The place could do with an upgrade but the room is spacious and clean so no grumbles from me. Meetings with shipyards all day but that is work and nothing to do with travel.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 28th MARCH
I arrived at my least favourite Heathrow terminal number 4 and proceeded to check in area F, glanced at the monitors and entered the business class queue. I noted that there was a new welcome carpet for business and first class travelers an thought that it was strange because AZAL refer to Comfort and VIP class. I waited patiently for a Chinese family to check in a large number of suitcases and then I noticed that the majority of the people on the flight were Chinese and I was wondering why so many were heading to Baku when the penny dropped, yes I was standing in the Air China queue. I managed to extract myself and was quickly checked in by AZAL.
AZAL uses the Gulf air lounge and it is really good and usually has some form of curry on offer. Today it was Tandoori chicken and chicken biryani washed down with a lovely cold Pinot Grigio. Don't start thinking that I am beginning to enjoy travel because this is just a brief pleasant interlude for the misery that lies ahead.
I arrived at my least favourite Heathrow terminal number 4 and proceeded to check in area F, glanced at the monitors and entered the business class queue. I noted that there was a new welcome carpet for business and first class travelers an thought that it was strange because AZAL refer to Comfort and VIP class. I waited patiently for a Chinese family to check in a large number of suitcases and then I noticed that the majority of the people on the flight were Chinese and I was wondering why so many were heading to Baku when the penny dropped, yes I was standing in the Air China queue. I managed to extract myself and was quickly checked in by AZAL.
AZAL uses the Gulf air lounge and it is really good and usually has some form of curry on offer. Today it was Tandoori chicken and chicken biryani washed down with a lovely cold Pinot Grigio. Don't start thinking that I am beginning to enjoy travel because this is just a brief pleasant interlude for the misery that lies ahead.
You can see that they are very generous with the wine or anesthetic as I prefer to think of it. This is a medicine to make the pain of the operation (travelling) more bearable. I enjoyed my brief stay in this little oasis within the zoo of terminal 4 but all too soon headed down to departure gate 8 as the screen said that it was boarding. I knew that when I arrived there this would prove to be a lie because it is what they always do. Confirmed! For a plane that is supposed to be boarding it is strange that everybody is either sitting down or milling around hoping to be first through the gate. About thirty minutes later the announcement was made "families with young children, VIP and Comfort class travelers please commence boarding, all other passengers please remain seated". This marks the moment when everybody leapt out of their seats and the pushing and shoving commenced. Forget families with young children, this is survival of the fittest and from what I can see the fittest seem to be old grannies using their elbows, age and bulk to great advantage in order to get to the front. I stayed seated and watched the mayhem. Not being rude just stating the truth. Some cultures just don't not understand the basic fairness and correctness of queuing, it is an alien concept and they think it is perfectly ok to gain advantage over others who may be weaker or just more polite.
The flight was not too bad but I can just further confirm that there is no way to get comfortable in that seat. The cabin crew worked hard and despite having eaten in the lounge I had the in flight meal. A starter of raw rolled up herring, some pinky bright lipstick coloured raw fish and two translucent prawns was not a good start but the main course of lamb was excellent. The flight even arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
The flight was not too bad but I can just further confirm that there is no way to get comfortable in that seat. The cabin crew worked hard and despite having eaten in the lounge I had the in flight meal. A starter of raw rolled up herring, some pinky bright lipstick coloured raw fish and two translucent prawns was not a good start but the main course of lamb was excellent. The flight even arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 27th MARCH
Well I have worked all day and will now have to head to the airport for a 2200 flight to Baku Azerbaijan. I have not packed as yet nor ordered my taxi because to do so would be to give in to the fact that I have to leave home again. Reluctant does not begin to describe my feelings this evening. I will arrive at 0630 in the morning and my first meeting is at 1000 in the morning. I previously mentioned the horrendous Dreamliner seats and looking at online check in it appears to be a full flight. Oh goody!
Well I have worked all day and will now have to head to the airport for a 2200 flight to Baku Azerbaijan. I have not packed as yet nor ordered my taxi because to do so would be to give in to the fact that I have to leave home again. Reluctant does not begin to describe my feelings this evening. I will arrive at 0630 in the morning and my first meeting is at 1000 in the morning. I previously mentioned the horrendous Dreamliner seats and looking at online check in it appears to be a full flight. Oh goody!
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 23rd MARCH
Well the threat of further travel has happened and I am booked to fly AZAL to Baku on Tuesday and returning on the Saturday, so home for Easter Sunday. No surprises in Baku for me as I lived there for a long time but one thing that never ceases to surprise me is how uncomfortable the comfort class seats are on the so called Dream Liner. Loads of legroom, reclining but totally uncomfortable horrible seats. I think AZAl liked the idea of having a 787 on the prestigious London route but bought the basic model. Nothing special inside, uncomfortable seats and grudging service. I will be visiting a dry dock for one of our ships and then meetings with the shipyard personnel that will carry out the work. They speak Azerbaijani and Russian whilst I speak only English. It is going to be fun! I am going to check the cost of hotels and see if I can stay in the Fairmont at the Flame towers. I used to have an apartment in there and the building is stunning.
Well the threat of further travel has happened and I am booked to fly AZAL to Baku on Tuesday and returning on the Saturday, so home for Easter Sunday. No surprises in Baku for me as I lived there for a long time but one thing that never ceases to surprise me is how uncomfortable the comfort class seats are on the so called Dream Liner. Loads of legroom, reclining but totally uncomfortable horrible seats. I think AZAl liked the idea of having a 787 on the prestigious London route but bought the basic model. Nothing special inside, uncomfortable seats and grudging service. I will be visiting a dry dock for one of our ships and then meetings with the shipyard personnel that will carry out the work. They speak Azerbaijani and Russian whilst I speak only English. It is going to be fun! I am going to check the cost of hotels and see if I can stay in the Fairmont at the Flame towers. I used to have an apartment in there and the building is stunning.
TRAVEL UPDATE FOR 22ND MARCH
Yes I am still home and whilst there is a lot of discussion as to where my next travel will be, mercifully it has not as yet transpired. As of the moment I plan to fly to Azerbaijan on Monday to visit a shipyard that is going to carry out repairs on one of our ships. I will probably fly back on the Friday or Saturday and then off to Amsterdam on the Tuesday. Let us see if this all comes to pass but one thing for sure, I will be more than happy to still be at home with the family and thus avoiding horrible airports, cramped planes and Hotels that disappoint.
Yes I am still home and whilst there is a lot of discussion as to where my next travel will be, mercifully it has not as yet transpired. As of the moment I plan to fly to Azerbaijan on Monday to visit a shipyard that is going to carry out repairs on one of our ships. I will probably fly back on the Friday or Saturday and then off to Amsterdam on the Tuesday. Let us see if this all comes to pass but one thing for sure, I will be more than happy to still be at home with the family and thus avoiding horrible airports, cramped planes and Hotels that disappoint.