Eastern Europe: Your Next Vacation!

If you are planning a vacation for next summer, let me put in a plug for Eastern Europe. It is cheap, safe, easy, and you don't need any visas. Poland, Hungary, Slovenia, Slovakia, Bosnia... there are too many countries to mention, many of which you probably know nothing about. I define Eastern Europe as all those countries that used to be Communist, and there's a lot more of them now than there used to be then.

Eastern Europe is not the dark dismal place of the Communist era, nor the ethnic battleground of the 1990s. These are optimistic, green and generally prosperous countries, very welcoming to tourists. The tourist trails are not so well-worn as in Western Europe, and there's more opportunities to get lost, but that's part of the adventure.

Above all, it's a safe adventure! Crime seems no worse here than in Western Europe or North America. And did I say cheap? Last summer, I wandered around in a half-dozen countries for only about $25/day for food and lodging. Then it was $25 to $35 more each time I took the train to the next city. Airfare notwithstanding, that's a lot cheaper than any vacation in the USA!

You don't need to know a single word of the local language (of which there are many). English is sufficient for communicating with ticket agents and lodging staff. (English is, after all, the language of Rock n' Roll, which the whole world speaks!) If you are lost, the first person you talk to may not speak English, but there is almost always someone in the vicinity who does—it's not as English-friendly as Germany but roughly equivalent to France.

You don't even need an itinerary! Just choose a city you can fly to cheaply, reserve your first night's stay, and the rest of your itinerary will take care of itself. Bring a laptop, plug into the wifi at your lodging, and plot your next move.

If you actually plan to go, the following is more detailed advice....

Start at HostelWorld.com, to see the accommodations available. You can book hostel beds here, but this is also a good place to find private rooms. Throughout most of Eastern Europe, a hostel bed for $15 is common, as is a private room for $40. Even if you walk out of the train station and stop at the first hotel you pass, you'll probably find a very reasonable rate by US standards. If you're the sort of wuss who needs to stay at the Hilton or equivalent sanitary lodging facility, I'm sure you can find that, too, but you're on your own here. One huge advantage of hostels, apart from the low price, is that you meet lots of people, which might never happen in the Hilton.

June and July are glorious! So is September. Avoid August, though, because all of Europe is on vacation then; trains may be packed and lodging booked.

If you are an American, Canadian or European, you don't need any visas for the Eastern European countries. (Check the US State Dept.'s travel site to be sure.) Only Russia requires a visa, and the hoops you have to jump through there seem almost as complicated as they were in the Communist era. For the other countries, just go as you wish. Ukraine? No problem!

Train is generally the way to get around. You can usually look up the schedules and fares online, then just go to the station on the day of your travel to buy your ticket. My all-day train ride from Zagreb to Sarajevo was only $25, and other point-to-point fares aren't much more. There is really no need for a rail pass with prices this low! (In Western Europe, plan to spend 2-4 times as much for an equivalent trip.) Eastern European trains tend to be old and a frayed at the edges, and stations can be dismal, but the whole system works and gets you there for a reasonable price.

You could also rent a car. In a car, unlike a train, you can start and stop at interesting places along the way. However, a car doesn't make much sense on your first visit to a new country. In that case, you want to cover as much ground as possible without the stress of driving. On your first visit, your main focus is the old town centers, where you get around on foot anyway and parking is a bitch.

One really cool thing about many of the trains in Eastern Europe: You can usually open the window and poke your head outside. That's way more exciting than a sanitary ride on the TGV, where you can't even sense how fast you're going!

One annoyance is money. Some countries use the Euro, but most still have their own unique currencies, which means you need new money at each new country you visit. The easiest way to obtain the local currency is to use your ATM card at a cash machine. Beware, however, that your bank may note the unusual activity and cut you off from your funds (believing it is fraud). You can avoid this by informing your bank of your travel before you go. (Call Customer Service to tell them.) Even then, you should be prepared for the possibility that your ATM card could be cut off.

If you go to a tiny country like Bosnia, you have to plan your transactions carefully, so you have enough cash for your visit but not too much. (Just like the old days in Europe before the Euro!) Acceptance of Visa/Mastercard is not universal, even for train tickets, so you can't depend on it.

Power is the European 220 volt standard, using the same plugs as the rest of continental Europe. Most modern electronics (like your laptop and camera power adapters) run on both 110 and 220 volts. (Look at the print on the adapter.) All you need is a small plug adapter (converting flat American prongs to round European ones), NOT a voltage converter. Adapters can be hard to find, so you need to have one before you leave home. (Walmart usually has a universal adapter in their luggage section.) Don't forget an extension cord or branching cube so you can charge all your devices at once.

Wifi is standard the world over. You need to make sure your lodging has it before you make your reservation; if not, don't go there.

Do not use your cellphone in any manner outside of your home country, unless it works on Wifi. The charges are astronomical, even for the simplest text message! Lots of visitors Skype on the Wifi at their lodging (much to the annoyance of their roommates).

So you have your first hostel night booked in the city where your plane lands. You plug into wifi and plot your next move. At the hostel, you will also meet your fellow travelers and you can ask their advice. This is especially important in Eastern Europe where there may not be a lot of information online. (For example, look at Bosnia on Google maps, and you'll see a big blank area.)

I don't need to give you specific advice on where to go, because you can figure that out on your own. I enjoyed the places I visited—Ljubljana, Zagreb, Sarajevo, Belgrade, Transylvania and Budapest—but there's much more I haven't seen. In particular, you shouldn't be afraid of the Balkans. The wars of the 1990s are long past, and these are stable countries now. Romania, also, is not the horror show it once was. I travel here with the same comfort as visiting the Netherlands.

On the other hand.... Myrtle Beach, South Carolina is a perfectly lovely vacation spot. So is Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Where else in the world can you find a higher density of miniature golf courses? Disneyland, Las Vegas, Six Flags... I know a many Eastern Europeans who would die to visit these places.

However, I expect a little more from you.

Also see my blog entry: How to Sleep in a Hostel

How to Sleep at an Airport

NOTE: This article has been rewritten and re-released in Homeless by Choice: How to Sleep In An Airport Go there instead! (Article below retained only for archive purposes.)

Two days ago, the Las Vegas airport was shut down by snow, and my cross-country flight was diverted to Phoenix. I have been living at the Phoenix airport since then, and I may have to stay here three more nights before I can finally get to Las Vegas. That's the risk of flying standby during the Christmas rush.

I feel a lot like Tom Hanks in the movie, The Terminal, who is trapped in limbo at JFK airport because his passport is no longer recognized.

But what most travelers would regard as a nightmare I see as a pleasure. You see, I have perfected the skills of airport survival and can live as comfortably here as anywhere else. As airports go, Phoenix is a workable one. The passenger concourses are open all night, and there's free wifi in the air. There are also no fixed armrests on the seating, which is an important element if you plan to spend the night.

It turns out the most important difference between pleasure and pain in a long airport stay is being able to comfortably sleep. I have slept in many airports around the world and have worked out the rules by trial and error. The requirements for sleep are pretty simple. You don't need a feather bed, but you do need warmth, padding and safety. Here are a few tips I have put together for your convenience...

1) Some airport terminals stay open all night (PHX, LAS, PHL) while others don't (CLT, BOS and most small-city airports). When a terminal stays open, you can remain in the secure area and sleep wherever you are comfortable. No one is likely to bother you. If your flight has been canceled or delayed and you genuinely have no choice, the airport authorities won't evict you, but you can also pretend that your flight is delayed and stay there by choice. In my experience, once you are inside security, no one will ask.

In the many times I have slept in airports, they only people who have woken me up were employees offering me pillows and blankets.

2) WARMTH is the most critical element to comfortable sleep. Room temperature of 78 degrees is comfortable when you are awake but can be painfully cold when you are trying to sleep. Even if you are flying in the summer, you should always travel in long pants and a warm sweatshirt, sweater or jacket. I also travel with a woolen cap and a light blanket (like one might steal from the plane). I find that I can sleep comfortably when I have several layers of clothing, my winter cap, and two light airline blankets.

3) Some airports have seating with fixed armrests between each seat (CLT), and some have no armrests (PHX). Obviously it is much easier to sleep when there are no armrests and you can stretch out across several seats. You sleep best when there is some padding under you and you can raise your legs to the same level as your head. Even in airports when there are fixed armrests, you can usually find some seating without them (LAS, PHL): Try going to a different concourse (A, B, C, etc.). If you find only seating with armrests, you might have to sleep on the floor but you can also try sleeping in a fetal position curled around the armrest. (It sounds bizarre, but if you are limber enough, it may work out and be more comfortable than the floor.)

4) It is nice to be able to block out light and sound. You can block out light with a sleep mask (available at drug stores or at Wal-Mart for $3) or by pulling your cap down over your eyes. Sound can be blocked with foam earplugs. Without them, you'll be blasted by automated security announcements ("Never leave your bags unattended....") and the CNN newsroom playing on the screen above you.

5) If you choose to leave the secure area, be sure you have a boarding pass to get back inside. (If you have been bumped from one flight to another, you can probably get a fresh boarding pass from a gate agent before you leave the secure area.)

Note: Most airlines won't issue boarding passes at the airport until four hours before boarding time, but they may issue them up to 12 hours before when you do it on-line. You can factor this into your plans. When entering security, TSA may require your boarding pass to be current (not for yesterday or tomorrow), but you'll have to try it to find out.

6) Airport food can be frightfully expensive, so I always bring dried food from home. (Dried pork chops are a favorite: Cook them in the oven -- but then leave them there for several hours at the lowest setting to make them dry and portable. You can do the same with any other meat or fish.) Liquid drinks and canned goods aren't allowed through TSA security, but you CAN bring an empty water bottle and any powdered drink mix. Fruit also passes security, as do most prepared meals.

7) Don't forget your toothbrush! Always bring it in your carry-on bag, not in your checked luggage. Everything essential to your journey should always be in your carry-on, because there's a roughly 1 in 200 chance that your checked bags won't arrive when you do. (But don't worry, they will show up eventually.)

8) A travel pillow is nice (like one you might steal from the plane), but if you don't have one, you can create a makeshift one from available clothing.

9) You don't have to worry much about safety. A secure airport terminal is one of the safest places on earth. Everyone there had to pass through security and is stable enough to at least afford an airline ticket. All employees had to pass through government background checks and wouldn't be there if they had any significant criminal record. Your carry-on bag and other belonging can be stored under your sleeping bench, in such a way that someone would have to wake you if rummaging through them, but the risk of this happening is low.

These rules are handy if you are truly delayed and have to sleep in the airport, but you can also think of other possible uses. Let's say you arrive at a city late at night and don't want to pay for a hotel. If the terminal is open all night, you can just remain there after you get off the plane. (You can even ask the gate agent if the terminal will remain open.)

There are worse islands to be shipwrecked on.

Also see my Red-Eye Survival Guide for in-flight sleeping tips.

Here is an example of typical airline seating with armrests. In a pinch, I can sleep fairly comfortably on these by wrapping myself around the armrest in the fetal position. It is more comfortable than it seems. The majority of the world's population sleeps in worse conditions.

See the revised article at Homeless by Choice for updates.

PHL - Philadelphia International Airport (Airports I Have Known)

A useful airport in a boring city.

Positive attributes: (1) Reasonably priced food (supposedly "mall pricing"); (2) terminal is open all night, so you can sleep there; (3) close to the city.

Negative attributes: (1) No free wifi. (2) There is little to do in Philadelphia itself.

Location: Only about 8 miles from downtown Philadelphia. The downtown skyline is clearly visible.

Layout: Terminals are lettered A through F. All terminals except F are connected within security. (F is the commuter terminal and requires a shuttle bus ride or a walk outside security.) Terminal A actually consists of two widely separated terminals for the low- and high-numbered gates. (Apparently, the airport didn't want to disrupt their lettering system when a new terminal was built.) Most international flights are in the A-high terminal.

Local Transportation: The commuter rail station is directly adjacent to the airport terminal--like airports in Europe. Unfortunately, the fare is very high given the short distance traveled (about $8-10). There is also a local bus running to the nearest subway station, which will get you to downtown (slowly) for less than half the price.

Near-Airport Attractions: There is a wildlife refuge across the highway from the terminal. If you had a few hours to kill, you could wander around on the trail system there. (To get there on foot, go out to the curb and turn right. Pass the taxi waiting area and keep going. You'll eventually get to an underpass under the highway. After that, you're on your own.)

For a good view of the city, go to the top of the main parking garage.

There are no commercial services or stores within walking distance of the airport.

Food: Lots of options, reasonably priced. There's a food court between B and C gates. Supposedly "street pricing" is enforced. Prices will probably still be higher than on your street, but it is a welcomed relief from the astronomical prices at other airports.

Sleeping: You can get away with sleeping within the secure terminal area, since it is open all night. Most of the bench seats in the airport have armrests (so you can't lie down), but many of those in the "C" concourse do not, which makes "C" the best sleeping area. (An airport employee woke me up, not not kick me out, but to give me a pillow and blanket.) See my Red-Eye Survival Guide for tips on sleeping in airports.

WiFi: Free WiFi on weekends only (confirmed 11/08, use "attwi'). On weekdays, AT&T offers wifi at $8/day (or free was various preexisting accounts).

International Travelers: Philadelphia is a credible alternative to New York or other eastern cities as a port of entry. Customs seems relatively fast. If you rent a car, Philadelphia is in a nice central location with easy access to both New York and Washington.

Philadelphia: Skip the city itself. One of the least interesting downtowns in America. Go to New York or Washington instead. You would only go downtown if you have an abiding interest in the American Revolution or the Rocky movies.

Red-Eye Survival Guide

This entry has been replaced by revised one: How to Sleep on an Airplane (Homeless by Choice, 5/9/09). The entry below is retained only for archive purposes.

For most people, one of the most difficult things about visiting a different continent (or just crossing one continent) is the grueling flight there. Crossing an ocean typically involves sleeping, or attempting to sleep, while sitting upright in cramped quarters. As a very frequent flyer, I do this often, and through experience I have learned how to make it relatively painless.

The ultimate goal of overnight travel is to sleep from the moment you hit the seat to the moment the aircraft pulls into the destination gate. This would make the flight an exercise in instantaneous travel: Go to sleep in New York, wake up in Paris. This goal may not be achievable in the real world, but I have gotten pretty close. Doing it requires both preparation and acclimation. The more you fly, the better you will get at it.

Here are my suggestions:

1. Dress warmly. This is probably the most important rule. When you sleep, your metabolism slows down and needs more insulation. If you’re cold, you’re not going to sleep and you’ll be miserable. Even when you’re flying in the summer or between tropical destinations, the temperature in the plane is going to be the same as the rest of the year. For any but the shortest flights, always wear long pants and a long-sleeve shirt, and you must bring a sweater or sweatshirt if you plan to sleep. You should also bring a warm cap or a hooded sweatshirt, especially if your hair is thin. Go for loose, comfortable clothing. (If you are traveling on business, try to avoid wearing those clothes on the plane.)


2. Do whatever you can to get a window seat. When flying at night, you may not care about the window itself, but the wall of the plane gives you something to lean your head against. You also know that no one will be climbing over you or asking you to move so they can get out. With a wall to yourself, you get a little more privacy and freedom, and you don't need to worry about falling on your fellow passengers when you nod off.


3. Grab an airline blanket as soon as you get on the plane. Airline blankets can be valuable for keeping warm, but you can’t always count on getting one. Snag one early, because there’s sometimes not enough to go around.


4. Bring some foam earplugs. The will help drown out in-flight announcements and nearby conversations. You don’t need the announcements! You already know what they say, so deaf is better. The airline is required to play the safety instructions, but you aren’t required to listen. The only announcement you need to take action on is the one to “return your seat back to its full upright position” a few minutes before landing, but if you don’t hear it, a flight attendant will tap you on the shoulder.


5. Be sure to get a seat that reclines. Some seats, typically in the last row of each section, don’t recline. The recline on any seat is usually only about six inches or less, but this can make a big difference when you are trying to sleep upright.


6. Fasten your seatbelt loosely. Ignore the instructions to fasten the belt “low and tight around your waist.” Instead, loosen the belt as far as it will go. Flight attendants will check that your belt is fastened but they won’t check how tight it is. Compared to a car, the safety value of an airline seat belt is trivial, so you want to make it as comfortable as possible. When you use a blanket, the belt should be outside the blanket so the flight attendants don’t have to wake you to verify that it is fastened.


7. Use the restroom before getting on the plane. You don’t want to have to get up from your seat unless necessary.


8. Experiment with a wrap-around neck pillow. I am generally skeptical of these, but there have been a couple of times when they have been helpful to me, especially on long night flights in a packed plane. Unlike the airline-issued pillows, they stay in position. You can buy these pillows at the airport, but they are much cheaper from a department store. Only the beanbag or blow-up types work. (It should be relatively thin, just to keep your head upright.) The thick, batting-filled types are too bulky and don't work.
   


9. Bring a bottle of water with you. The air in planes is very dry and you need to be able to drink when you are thirsty, but you also don’t want to stay awake to wait for the airline’s beverage service. Full bottles of water aren’t allowed through security, but empty bottles are, and you can fill them up from a water fountain inside the terminal. In a pinch, you can also fill your water bottle from the faucet water in the airline lavatory. (It is technically "potable" and comes from the same municipal supply as the water fountains in the airport. You have to have some sort of cup, however, to move the water from the faucet to your bottle.)
   


10. Buy a sleep mask. This is a cheap eye mask to block out light. It may be available at the airport but also at most pharmacies and department stores (about $3 at Wal-Mart). This blocks out both the light and the in-flight movie. (Without it, you may have trouble keeping your eyes closed, and the drivel on the screen may draw your attention.)


11. Take two aspirin at the start of the flight. Aspirin is a wonder drug that prevents blood clots and helps reduce muscular pains before they happen. Sleeping in a contorted position can be hard on your back and neck (or at least it’s hard on mine), and I find that aspirin heads off serious problems later. Sleeping with your legs so far below your heart is probably not healthy in the long run, and studies have linked it to blood clots in the legs. If nothing else, you may notice swelling in your legs and feet. I assume that aspirin mitigates some of this.


12. Take your shoes off. Sleep just goes better that way. You’ll need socks to keep your feet warm.


13. Before the flight, try to check how full it is. You can guess at the load factors of the flight by looking at the seat maps on the airline’s website or at Travelocity.com. (To view the seat maps, go through the preliminary steps of buying a ticket.) You can also ask if the flight is full when you check in. The number of empty seats on the flight may alter your behavior when boarding it. If the flight is completely full, you know you’re not going to get a better seat than what you have, so you can board in your assigned order. However, if the flight is relatively light then you should try to be the last person boarding. Then you know that any empty seats are probably unassigned. (You are supposed to ask a flight attendant before you change your seat, but I just do it and wait for someone to complain.) Having three or more seats to yourself is the ideal condition, in which case you can stretch out in comfort and sleep all the way there (more comfortable than First Class!). On widebody aircraft, having the two seats beside window is the next best thing. (I find that I can lie down in a fetal position and sleep soundly on two seats, but not everyone can.) If you find yourself assigned to middle seat ("B" or "E" on most aircraft), if is often worth the effort to delay boarding and try to negotiate for a better seat before gettin on the plane.

In practice, if I decide I’m going to sleep on a flight, I start working on it from the moment I hit the seat. I take off my shoes, close the window shade, install my earplugs, hat, mask, optional neck pillow and blanket, fasten the seatbelt loosely where the flight attendants can see it, then I try to tune out everything. As soon as I feel the plane leave the runway, I recline my seat. I ignore all announcements and in-flight services, including food and beverages. My sole objective is to sleep, and if I am successful, I won’t have any contact with the outside world until the flight attendant taps me on my shoulder before landing and tells me to return the seat to upright.

Sleeping upright is just something you have to get used to. It can never be as easy or restful as sleeping lying down, but the more you do it, the easier it gets. The main problem is that your legs swell up and can become uncomfortable, sometimes for days after the flight.

Sleeping in airports is a lot like sleeping in airplanes. See my separate entry, How to Sleep in an Airport.

---

Posted from Bedford, Massachusetts. ©Glenn Campbell.
Photo source

Trouble in Paradise

On the first day of my furlough from the airline biz, I figured I’d do the responsible thing and stick around Las Vegas to clean up loose ends. By the end of the day, however, I was aching to travel. I considered Athens, Greece, but it was too expensive. (I calculated that a two-night visit, including airfare and hostel, would set me back $150.) I settled instead on my usual paradise, the U.S. Virgin Islands, which I knew would cost me next to nothing.

This was my third visit to the Virgins. The first two times I slept on a beach on St. John, which is mostly a National Park, but this was dicey, since camping on the beach is illegal. This time, I decided to stay on St. Thomas, where the airport is and the park rangers aren’t. As my plane was landing, I caught a glimpse of a tiny isolated beach on Brewer’s Bay that might serve my needs. After a 3-mile hike from the airport, I was there, arriving just around nightfall.

The beach was a crescent of soft white coral sand no more than 100 yards long. I set up my one-man tent in the sandy plateau just above the surf line, where the waves were no more than six inches high. I travel to this part of the world with a tent but no sleeping bag or mattress. The tent is necessary for protection from insects and rain, but bedding isn’t needed because the temperature is usually perfect -- not too cold, not too hot as long as you sleep nearly naked. The sand under the tent floor provides a mattress of sorts – at least better than rocks or hard ground.

The beach was inaccessible by road, only by trail, so there was little chance of my being discovered or visited at night. I had the place to myself, so I bathed naked in the ocean. I could actually “bathe” because the ocean here is bathwater temperature and perfectly clear. With liquid camping soap, which works in salt water, I could wash up almost as well as in a shower.

I then tried to get some sleep, but it didn’t go as well as I had hoped. First of all, even “soft” sand can be pretty hard, and it can be difficult getting comfortable enough to sleep. Secondly, I had a visitation by a tropical creature.

I first felt it scampering across my legs, then across my bare chest. This can be disconcerting in the darkness when you’re in a tent that you believe is sealed and you don’t know what the creature is. I got my flashlight, shined it upon the intruder and found him to be a huge cockroach, almost two inches long and an inch wide. I am not freaked out by such things, and he was not afraid of me, so I picked him up with a t-shirt and ejected him from my residence.

What was disturbing is that I didn’t know how he got in. My tent appeared to be bug-proof, and it would take a big hole to admit such a beast. I examined all the seams and could find no such hole, so I figured he must have climbed in my pack when I was setting up the tent and moved into the tent when the pack did.

Unfortunately, the scampering resumed about fifteen minutes later. I wasn’t sure whether it was the same cockroach or his identical twin who had also hid in my pack. (I am very poor at cockroach identification.) I again ejected him from the tent but didn’t have the fortitude to squish him when I had the chance. A few minutes later, he returned again! At this point, I realized that it was probably the same roach returning again and again through some unknown orifice. My fortress was not secure! I really wanted to kill him this time, but I was only successful in removing him from the tent again.

Not knowing when he would return, sleep was now impossible. I suppose that if I was a real man I could have peacefully co-habitated with the roach. I know millions of people do in the tropics. The roach wanted only my food, which was everywhere loose in my tent. He would probably eat his fill and then leave, but I couldn’t quite tolerate this. It was 2am, and I knew I wasn’t going to get any more sleep. What was I going to do now?

Most of us are familiar with tropical beaches only from the photographs on calendars. I have visited and photographed some of those beaches and can report that they truly exist as they are pictured: perfect white sand, perfect blue water and often a palm tree hanging out prosaically from the shore. But there are many things the calendars don’t tell you. You can’t sleep directly on the beach, because the bugs and maybe the crabs will eat you alive. You’ll also get soaked by the rain that comes almost every night. The sand itself is a pain, as it gets into everything. So does the humidity. On a tropical island, humidity near 100% is the norm, which means nothing ever dries out. Sand, humidity and computers don’t mix, and I am constantly worried about my electronics.

In the tropics, there is little in the way of dusk or dawn, and you can count on nearly 12 hours of darkness any time of year. In general, the sun drops like a rock at about 6pm and pops above the horizon at about 6am. If you are camping and you sleep for 7 hours, this means you still have 5 hours of darkness to kill.

At 2am, I still had four hours before the dawn, and it was feeling like a four-hour airplane flight. I worked on my computer for about an hour until the battery died, but then what? I bathed naked in the ocean – again! – but it seemed pointless by now. How many hours of a warm bath can you take?

Finally, at about 4am, I felt that I had no choice but to break camp. All this perfection can be grating. The thing they never tell you about Paradise – of any kind – is that THERE’S NOTHING TO DO. Sure, it may be prestigious to sit at the right hand of God, but what are you going to do once you are there? Play chess? I find that I have to relearn this lesson every time I visit a Magic Kingdom: No matter how big the anticipation may be, within a few hours, it’s time to get out!

I took my time pulling down the tent and assembling my pack, but it was still full darkness when I was ready to go. Around dawn I was at the University of the Virgin Islands, about a mile from the beach. I found a covered veranda there where I could plug in my computer. That’s when the torrential rains began, and they pinned my in that location for four hours. Had I not broken camp when I did, the rains would have overcome my simple tent; my computer would have been at risk, and I would have been miserable. Thank you, Mr. Roach!

Twenty-four hours after arriving in the Virgins, I was back on a plane heading back to the real world. There’s only so much of this Paradise shit you can handle.

Also see my camping experience on St. John (7/19/08)

Zen and the Art of Baggage Handling

Today is my last day of work at the best job I ever had. I was a ramp worker for a major airline in Las Vegas. I am being laid off in the Great Purge of 2008: the massive airline cutbacks triggered by astronomical fuel prices.

Before you cry for me, I assure you that losing the best job I ever had is one of the best things that ever happened to me. One of the perks of working for an airline is that you get to fly free (or nearly free) wherever your airline goes. The only downer is that they also make you “work” on a regular schedule, which severely cuts into ones vacation time. Now, thanks to the negotiations of my union, I get to keep my basic flight benefits during my furlough period — for up to three years or until I am rehired — without the inconvenience of work. My only burden now is not having any money to travel with, but it still feels like I have won the lottery.

Tonight, I will turn in my security badge and leave the secret bowels of the airport, probably for the last time. This seems the right time to reflect on my employment and the things it has given me.

Technically, I was a “Fleet Service Agent.” Those are the little ants you see scurrying around a big plane when it pulls into the gate. It may look confusing from inside the terminal, with a dozen things happening at once, and you may wonder how everyone knows what to do. The secret lies in the fact that each of those ants knows what his simple job is, and he doesn’t worry much about other people’s jobs. Even when every plane is delayed and it seems like pandemonium in the waiting area, the life of a Fleet Service Agent is simple and laid back. When the plane comes in, you do what you suppose to, but there’s no stress and always plenty of empty time between flights.

The pay is low, starting at about $9 an hour, but everything else about it is a dream -- or at least it was for me during that phase of my life. In addition to the pay, we got subsidized health insurance and of course those wonderful flight benefits. Surprisingly, most of my colleagues rarely used them, but I was racking up the miles almost immediately, jetting off Europe for intense one- and two-day visits and jumping across the country without even thinking about it. The equivalent pay for me was much more than the $9/hour. It was a whole new world!

As for the job itself, Fleet Service is probably the best work at the airport. The job involves intense physical labor about 20% of the time, buffered by 80% just sitting around waiting for flights to come in. This served two of my personal needs: exercise to for my body and plenty of thinking time for my brain. Fleet Service also requires very little emotional commitment, which also served my lifestyle. Supervisors were mostly invisible, and no one really cared what your attitude was as long as you clocked in on time, were where you were supposed to be when a flight came in and adequately did the job assigned to you. Otherwise, you could read, watch TV or just wander around and mutter to yourself, as I usually did.

The greatest advantage of Fleet Service over any other airline jobs is simple: You don’t have to deal with customers. Customer Service Agents (the people behind the counter and at the gate) and flight attendants are both paid roughly the same wage as us, but they have to deal with travelling public (Yuccck!). They have to put on a front and say the right soothing words to an incessant stream of difficult strangers, which I regard as the worst form of sweatshop labor. We on the ramp only had to deal with bags that hardly ever talked back and didn’t care what we said to them.

It makes me wonder why anyone would choose Customer Service, but a different type of people seemed to be attracted to each job. Fleet Agents are predominantly male, while Customer Service people and flight attendants tend to be female or, in lesser numbers, gay males. (I’m not saying all males in these areas are gay, but it’s amusing how many are, like they are deliberately seeking stereotypically female roles.) There are physical requirements of Fleet Service, like being able to toss 50-pound bags in rapid succession, and a petite female probably couldn’t make the grade, but mostly it seems to be a self-selection thing. In Customer Service, you aren’t going to break a sweat, get your fingernails dirty or leave an air conditioned environment. The health benefits of physical labor and the psychological benefits of not dealing with customers are lost on these people.

The few women who choose Fleet Service (perhaps 25% of the staff) are a hardy breed, and I admire them. There are a few beefy Amazons but also some average-size woman who seem to me no less feminine for choosing this work. The company shows no discrimination in hiring. A woman just has to decide she wants to do it.

Our job in Fleet Service includes several repetitive tasks, which we are rotated through on different days: (a) working at a gate (“gate team”) which involves servicing an aircraft and loading and unloading bags, (b) running incoming bags to the carousel or to other flights (“T-point runner”), or (c) sorting outgoing bags after they are checked in and taking them out to the flights (“bagroom”). There are other jobs in fleet service, but those are the main ones.

In the process, we get to drive around in various trucks and tugs, some of them quite powerful. For boys who used to play with trucks and planes, it’s great fun! The most challenging thing we do is pushing aircraft back from the gate (one of the jobs of the gate team). You sit on a powerful “push tug” hooked to the front wheels of the aircraft. While talking to the pilot through a headset, you drive the aircraft back until it is clear of the gate and can proceed forward -- since most aircraft can’t back up on their own. Hopefully, you do this without crashing the plane into anything. It’s akin to backing up your car with a boat trailer attached: If you’ve ever tried it, you know how tricky it is. In this case, the trailer is a multi-million-dollar aircraft, and if you put even a dent in it, there go your flight benefits.

The quintessential task of the Fleet Agent on a gate team is to marshal (or direct) the incoming aircraft into the gate. You do this with orange wands, and the aim is to have the aircraft stop on a certain hash mark on the pavement. Since the pilot can’t see below the aircraft, he is relying on you to tell him where to stop.

In the classic scene from the movie “Airplane,” a ramp worker is directing a plane into the gate when a co-worker asks him, “Hey Joe, where’s the fork lift?” at which point the marshaller points in another direction with the wands and the plane goes through a wall. After working this job myself, I can tell you that the movie’s portrayal is totally inaccurate. Why? Because there are no folk lifts on the ramp.

My biggest goof on the ramp was when I marshalled in a Boeing 757 and I stopped the plane about a foot short of the hash mark. I then proceeded to help my colleagues unload the bags from the plane. When we were done, I realized that the passengers were still on the plane, because the jet bridge couldn’t reach the door. Although I was qualified to push the plane back, I wasn’t authorized to pull it forward, so another specially trained employee had to come in and pull the aircraft forward one foot. 150 passengers were delayed for a half-hour by my mistake. I could almost hear them cursing: “I’m never going to fly this %*@! airline again!”

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel too bad about the people I had delayed. I was more upset that I hadn’t done my job right. When you aren’t looking at passengers directly, it is very easy to disconnect yourself from their plight. I know how frustrating it can be when your plane gets to the gate but you can’t get off, but it still doesn’t affect me much when I’m down below. It’s the job of the flight attendants and Customer Service people take deal with customer discontent. The job of the rest of us is to get the whole package to the place where it is going. Sometimes, you are going to make people unhappy on a massive scale, but this is often necessary to make the whole system work efficiently.

The people in scheduling have to do this all the time. They may have to delay hundreds of people for hours because of some storm far away or a maintenance problem with an aircraft in a distant city. Some people who are affected are going to get angry and complain bitterly to Customer Service. They tend to think it’s an affront directly specifically at them, but really it’s just the nature of air travel. It’s the safest mode of transportation there is, but there’s never a certainty that you’ll get to your destination when scheduled. It’s more like a probability: You have a 90% chance of arriving when expected, but you always have to be prepared for that other 10% deviation, which in the worst case could mean spending the night in a distant city without your bags.

No one is as aware of these uncertainties as much as we are: the employee travelers. Yes, we fly for free, but we travel standby only if there is space available. We have access to booking numbers and know which flights have empty seats, but even then our travels are uncertain. We have perhaps a 20-30% chance of not arriving when expected. Even a flight with plenty of empty seats the night before can instantly fill up if another flight is canceled (even on another airline) and its passengers are bumped onto this one. In a perfect storm of cancellations and overbookings, you can be trapped in a distant city for days. Things can get dire if you are supposed to report to your shift back home, because the airline gives you no leniency for missed work even if one of their canceled flights is to blame.

You respond to this uncertainly with creativity, flexibility and extensive contingency planning. Sometimes, when things go bad, you have to take calculated gambles, like buying a ticket or taking a bus between relatively close cities to gain a better chance of crossing the country or an ocean.

Free travel means just that: You use a company website to list yourself for the flight, then you go to the airport and get on. I could decide tomorrow morning that I want to go to Rome and be there the following morning. Domestic travel is truly free (at least on my airline), and international travel involves only a few minor taxes. Flying to Rome, for example, is currently $35 round trip in coach. (I could splurge on first class for $235.)

Airline employees and their guests (traveling at discounted rates) are known officially as “non-revenue” travelers, or “nonrevs”. At the gate, they are referred to euphemistically as “standbys.” You hear their names being called just as the aircraft is boarding. You could be sitting next to one! On nearly full flights, they usually have to sit in the middle seats that no one else wants, or you may find them in the exit-row seats that are only assigned at the airport.

The nonrev universe is a peculiar one. I can jump through hyperspace to any airport our airline serves, but when I get there I am limited by my $9/hour wage and often can’t go far from the airport because of it. In Europe, with current exchange rates, I am particularly impoverished. There are no stays in five-star hotels, only youth hostels if I’m lucky (via HostelWorld.com). I must often get extremely creative, like bringing a tent and sleeping bag and sleeping in a wooded area I have identified on Google Earth. I may also bring dried food with me, like backpacking in the wilderness, so I don’t have to spend money locally. Sometimes, whether I can visit a city at all often depends on simply whether I can afford the bus or train between the airport and the city

For example, London is a bitch, both because of high airport fees ($120 round trip) and frightfully high prices for ground transportation and everything else. Spain and Italy, however, are relatively cheap and easy. In Maui, I can walk from the airport to the beach and even camp discretely nearby. Total cost if I bring my own food: $0.

As a nonrev, I can choose my flight on the spur of the moment. This means, in essence, that I can choose my own weather. If it’s raining today in Dublin, I probably won’t go there but might choose Milan instead. I can also choose the kind of flight I want. If a flight is more than 1/3rd empty, I know there is a good chance I can get 2 or 3 seats to myself, in which case I can lie down and sleep soundly all the way to my destination. It is great to be able to board a flight to, say, Venice, get a full night’s sleep on the plane and arrive there fully rested.

Even if I’m stuck in the middle seat of a red-eye flight, I do pretty well. It is amazing what the body can adjust to if it knows what to expect, and there are times when I have slept through a whole flight sitting up. On day flights, I enjoy the thinking time and the time to write on my computer. Some aircraft even have power ports in the armrests (if you have the right adapter).

I have also perfected the art of sleeping in airports. I know which ones are open all night and where the best sleeping seats are. There are certain requirements for comfortable sleep, like warm clothing, a makeshift pillow and a light blanket, and I come prepared. Especially within the secure terminal area, I feel no danger, and I often sleep just as well as I do at home. I think of it as urban backpacking.

All this travel to exotic ports may sound like heaven, but it can get tiring after a while. Travel is certainly educational, at least at first, but doesn’t really give your life meaning. Unless I have a particular mission someplace, I find that I have pretty much exhausted a city in 48 hours. I like to take photos, and I have a wonderful time doing so as I first discover a place, but once the discovery is over, I want to get back to some kind of purpose. After 48 hours in even the most idyllic paradise, I’m usually back on the internet, doing the same things I was doing before I left home.

It is surprising how few of my co-workers take advantage of their flight benefits. Their travels are usually limited to visiting their relatives in other parts of the country. Many don’t even have passports. To fly to Rome for a 1-day visit, you first have to get over some mental barriers. Most people say that they are not going to attempt something that ambitious unless they can do it “right” -- say, by staying for two weeks and using proper hotels. Consequently, they never go at all. I say that the most you learn from a place is gained in the first 24 hours, so why not at least get a taste of it? In Paris, you can at least visit the Eiffel Tower, ride the Metro and get a feeling for the city that you can’t get from books or travel shows. Then you can go home, think about the experience and be better prepared for a later trip. If and when you have more time, you always come back and get into it in more detail.

When you’re working in an office and have only two weeks of vacation a year, your trip to Paris or Maui is going to loom large in your imagination, but when you can go at whim, these places quickly lose their romance. You realize that no matter where you go in the world, you are still faced with the same essential problem: how to find meaning in your life. Meaning probably isn't going to be found in Rome, London or Hawaii. All you’ll find is a different environment that will become routine to you in a couple of days.

After today, I will be free to travel anywhere I want, whenever I want, but I don’t think I will do much that I haven’t done before. Due to a confluence of statistics and union restrictions, it is unlikely I will be rehired in Las Vegas during my three-year furlough period -- which is good, because it means I will have a full three years of freedom. At the end of that period, I could get another airline job to restote my flight benefits. (Such part-time jobs are almost always available somewhere in the country. Check each airline's website!) I suspect, however, that I’ll be ready to give it up by then, having moved on to more important projects.

Meaning is something you have to find within yourself, not out there in some distant place. After you have wandered around for a while and seen how other people do things, meaning usually involves going back and resolving those things that you have left undone.

In some form, it usually requires returning to your roots and going home.

A final barbecue on the Las Vegas ramp (dubbed "The Last Supper") just before half the staff is laid off. Here are some more photos from the ramp.

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Update: Oct. 12, 2011: I have just released an "oral history" of my time on the ramp. It is an hour-long video available here...

Gypsy Camping

As an airline employee (and soon to be furloughed airline employee—even better!), I get to fly throughout Europe and North America for free (or nearly free). The only trouble, as an airline employee, is that I have almost no money once I get there. Public transportation and youth hostels play a big part in my travel plan. But what do I do when there is no hostel or other cheap lodging nearby? Gypsy camping!

Above is my lodging on the outskirts of Huesca, Spain (May 2008). Total rent for this space: €0 ($0). I just walked along the railroad tracks from the Huesca train station 'til I hit a reasonably discrete location (only about a km from the station). The temperature was perfect! There were a few mosquitoes, but nothing serious and a small price to pay for the free lodging. The only noteable downside: I was attacked!

That's right: slimed by snails! It was a bag I bought for $2 at a garage sale, so the damage was bearable. (Thank GOD I didn't bring my Gucci bag!)
On the same vacation (my allocated two weeks off at the airline), I found myself in the tropical paradise of St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands. (See photo at the top of this post.) I slept on the beach!
Efficient Gypsies have to adapt to the landscape they are traveling in. In Spain, I traveled with a sleeping bag but no tent, knowing that keeping warm would be the main issue. In the Caribbean, I travel with a tent but no sleeping bag. There, the issue is rain and insects, while all you need to fight the "chill" is a thin blanket stolen from the airplane. On the beach (an isolated one you have to hike to), the sand provides the only mattress you need. In the evening, under the moonlight, I bathed in the ocean (perfect bathwater temperature) using camping soap that works in salt water. This was the tragic scene out my window when I woke up....
It's quite illegal, of course. Most of St. John is a U.S. National Park, and you are supposed to camp in designated campgrounds. In the morning, I failed to break camp at dawn, and a park ranger caught me! She took down my name and admonished me not to do it again. Next time I'm nabbed, I imagine I'll get a ticket, so I've scoped out this new camping spot in the woods just above the beach...
There's little chance of discovery here, but I'd probably want an air mattress.

More photos on Facebook (log-in rqd): St. John, Huesca Spain.
More Spain photos coming soon on RoamingPhotos.com.