Airport Tales

It’s 2 am London time and my flight for Nice leaves at 5.55 am. I have only one suitcase weighing in at a heavy and awkward 19.4 kg. As I quickly push another pair of shoes into my case I am fearful that it might be over the 20 kg allowance. When I arrive at the airport, I get into role play; ‘serene-travel Goddess walks onto holiday set’ – camera, lights, action!

I do a quick travel check; Euros, check, passport check, Brazilian hair, check, French manicured nails check, red toe nails, check, Louie Vuitton hand luggage, check, bath and body works bali mango body mist, check, Ipad check, blackberry, check , evian water bottle, check, shades, check, Cosmetics flight essentials; 100ml security safe MAC mineral foundation, check, dove hand cream, check, and Vaseline, check, Bible, yes checkkkk!

I never ever travel without my bible in my hand luggage, it is my most essential item of luggage. Now I am mega prepared, I have everything! I am rearing to go! I wonder if there is an award for this kind of organisational precision ‘Conde Nast Serene Traveller Award 2013′, perhaps the red carpet could be this walking escalator that I am on . . . I get into the scene, fix my hair, smile and attempt a wave gesture like the Queen of England.

Even though its only 3 nights away I have packed four evening outfits, three day outfits and two wedding day outfits plus four pairs of shoes, two straw hands, one with a ribbon and one without, both essential (I will explain later) Plus my blowdryer and my straightener. Light packing? Sorry not this time. I am gong to the South of France!

At the hand luggage check point I empty the entire contains of my cosmetic bag into a plastic sandwich bag, unknown to me my foundation lid is loose and milk chocolate coloured foundation squirts everywhere on the check-in counter! OMG! I sink into travel embarrassment, no longer the cool and collected jet setter – I am almost skidding in MAC foundation! Mercury rising, OMG it gets worse, I spot a TDH guy through my shades standing nearby. My holiday swagger shrinking to minus zero – my stock of Kleenex comes to the rescue! I quickly clear up the mess in no time and proceed to enter the security check in. There is something very cruel about having to empty your makeup bag into a sandwich bag and bare your feet in front of strangers, (yes even pedicured feet!) I realise now that no matter how prepared you are, the airport always seems to get you into a juggling mess! I pray that I get through the pressure by the time I get to my departure gate.

To travel or not to travel is always a question one struggles with, so I decide to stop beating myself up at this point about the cost and remind myself of the triumph of booking my ticket and actually getting to the airport on time. No matter how much you plan to travel, the budget is always tight.

I shake it off, armed with the Word and my clear plastic sandwich bag filled with 100ml security safe contents and Louie tote bag on my right shoulder, I am ready to fly.

plane_2244832b

Parting is such sweet sorrow
There is something mega exciting about boarding a plane that makes you feel all grown up. I learnt a very empowering truth from my last travel journey that truly you never go it alone when you travel, everywhere you go, God goes with you.

I say a quick prayer and my heart starts reflecting on how grown up I becoming. My aunties have been calling me ‘Madam Traveller’ but I don’t let it go to my head. I never take travelling for granted, its always by His Grace.

Thankfully I whiz through security and head straight for my gate, (like really) more like straight to the World duty free shops! The plane can wait I’ve got two hours! Let’s play who can get to the departure gate without buying anything. Then again lets not. Time for a quick spritz of my favourite Flower bomb by Victor Rolf -a girl’s got to smell good at the airport! I pick myself up a MAC mineral makeup compact since its tax free but still feel the urge to buy something else, not too expensive mind you,I have not even started my holiday. I settle for a Costa coffee for 3 quid, cheap and cheerful and take the moving escalator to my gate. (Please note I am not lazy, I am just tired.) I have been packing all night. Conde Nast Traveller advises that you get a good night’s sleep before you travel but I guess I will just sleep on the plane now. Finally, finally I am getting closer to departing! I proceed to the loo for a last minute check of my outfit, gold sandals, skinny jeans and a stylish Zara basic top. Check-in chic, not bad sis, even if I do say so myself.

Gate 57. That Kenneth Cole watch in the display cabinet is still stalking me … buy me, buy me, no time, I had a sickening nightmare the other night that I missed my cheap flight!Easyjet take no prisoners they would not think twice about leaving me! Boarding time, final checks, did I remove my debit card at the Mac counter? Ok I did, cool. Phew! I have a quick meditation, interrupted by the niggling thought that I may have left the iron on.

I send a quick text on my blackberry to my sister to double check and she texts back “No it’s fine. Journey mercies call me when you get there.” Ok that’s cool then.I turn my blackberry off, no more last minute work or home calls.It’s too late to set my out of office now they will just have to get the hint, when they don’t see me for a few days.

I find a quiet corner away from couples with children and take a seat and breath in deeply. I return to my mediation and think thoughts of good, harmony, peace, stillness. I think about my beautiful shoes and good things in the world like the Father nearby carrying his son , and holding a little girl with the other hand, his wife looking on calmly holding the passports. Bliss. Boarding time . . . it felt like mountains were moving . . . pressure over, let the fun games begin.

Follow your heart

Throughout the two years of post graduate study; typing until my fingers hurt, reading until my eyes closed, waking up as my laptop began to node off to sleep, forgetting my student ID password and juggling full time work, I have learnt some of life’s greatest lessons.

During this time, as my childhood dream began to come alive I learnt about discipline and integrity. These values have helped me to develop as a writer, and even though I have finally finished studying, I am still learning about them but now is the time to put all that I have learnt to good use.

Like the Vice Chancellor Julius Weinberg said “few graduates succeed on their own,” this so true, and just like in life and on graduation day, whether through a word or a smile we need our support network to be there.

Meeting up on graduation day and reconnecting with fellow students was an eye opening experience, as we are now all part of a global network of Kingston alumni with a broad range of academic backgrounds, specialisms, working and aspiring to work in the creative and professional industries.

In the words of Dr Wendy Perriam, author of 24 books to date, “graduation marks the beginning of a new journey.”

“Always follow your heart, in your spouse, in your career. Follow your own personal aspirations, discover who you are”.

“It’s important to never stop thinking and believing, work out what is best, having it all sometimes leads to burn out and frustration.”

Some of the greatest writers suffered, a wound lives in the artist, but out of that wound can be a blessing too.

“Above all make a difference in the world. Value your setbacks, it matters that you care and that you live life. Don’t be afraid. Now is the time to pursue your dreams.”

Reflections on my Easter Childhood

When I look at the Easter cross, I am reminded of my childhood. For me, Easter always conjures up so many memories – taking me back to my Catholic upbringing; crossing my heart, school holidays,Ash Wednesday, Easter baskets and cards, going to church and eating Cadburys crème eggs and hot cross buns.

School Days

Back then in school – cards were made and not bought. I can still remember drawing the cross, bunnies and eggs, making paper baskets stuffed with tissue paper and giving up chocolate for Lent; being marked on the forehead with ash on Ash Wednesday by the Bishop and knowing that I was very special in God’s eyes.

Hot Cross Buns

One of my favourite things about Easter was and still is; Hot cross buns. During Springtime and Lent in the UK they are often made as an alternative to regular bread.

In the bible it tells us in John 6:35; “Jesus said to his friends, I am the bread of life. Whosoever comes to me will never become hungry and whoever believes in Me will never become thirsty.”

I don’t what is is but there is just something comforting about eating a hot cross bun. The specially baked bun was named ‘hot cross buns’ by the Purists in 1733 to mark Christ’s crucifixion. With it’s sweet smell of cinnamon and nutmeg, fluffy, almost pillowy texture of spiced dough with raisins and candied fruit, honey glazed on top, with strips of chewy pastry that form a perfect cross. I sometimes wonder if the cross is what makes the buns taste so good.

Once in home economics, we baked hot cross buns, but they never turned out right, very hard and not at all like the ones in the bakery!

Going to Church

Back then as a child going to church on Easter Sunday was just what one did. In my family everyone wore their Sunday best. My Mum would not have been seen outside without her damask headscarf and matching wrapper, no not on Easter Sunday. It was a very special day, me and my siblings were excited.

Easter Mass would go on forever, as I waited in joyful hope to eat chocolate. I remember how excited I was at the end of service to light a candle, and dip my finger in holy water to mark my forehead with the cross.

Church was nearby to our house, and back then the buses did not run on Easter Sunday, so we walked home. This was often followed by some bickering by us siblings as children do. My mum would look on with that glance of hers, which meant no fighting or arguing over who got what today ‘or else’.

Mum liked to invite people around for dinner on Easter Sunday and sometimes we would have a special guest like an auntie or uncle, or cousins, or someone who might be on their own who would come around for the afternoon.

There was always thoughts of getting loads of chocolate, but never asking for it though. We would count ourselves lucky if we were given extra Easter eggs; asking for anything was just unheard of. And we couldn’t just be eating egg after egg, no the Easter egg would last a few days at least and we would share the chocolate between us. I guess you could say that we were just glad to have chocolate after six weeks of not having any at all!

Just like Christmas

Eating dinner together was almost like Christmas Day, Mum would cook a delicious meal with some special Nigerian dishes and there was always desser or two and hot cross buns! I can still remember sitting on the stairs at home aged eleven, over hearing relatives in the front room talking and laughing; with all the aromatic smells of Easter dinner in the air. Oh how I miss those Easters!

Now when thnnk about Easter, I still remember those years but I think more about God’s love and his selfless sacrifrice for me.

Exmouth Market EC1

Exmouth Market is one of those lesser known markets in London. I first discovered it by accident, one day on my way to a short course at City University some years ago.

exmouth-market

Just off Farringdon and trendy Clerkenwell, its a cool and inspiring place – that makes you want to be creative, live and experience more. With it’s distinctive fish grey cobblestoned walkway, the street has an old English grandieur to it.

A popular hang-out for Clerkenwell and City media high flyers, its a an ideal place to visit on your own or with friends after work, especially during one of those lazy summer days.

Originally a trading market in the 1950’s, it is now a collection of rather trendy an coffee shops, restaurants, homemade arts and crafts, delightful art, ceramics and bespoke tailoring shops.

On some week days there is a fresh farmers market with a variety of fresh quality and tasty produce. Mouthwatering delicatessen produce – cheeses, chutney, olives and sun-dried tomatoes, you name they sell it.

My favourite Carribean restaurants called ‘Cottons’ is on this street, and they have regular live bands, artists and spoken word evenings, not to mention fantastic fruit cocktails.

In the dark winter months you can see a string of thousands of tiny lights above the market, connecting every shop in the street making the place look extra special.

Maynooth-A Dream Come True Part 1

6A Cahill Road.

“I think this is the one”, Achi said turning his gaze from the street to his wife.

A gust of wind blew fiercely, he shuddered, pulling the flap of his blazer up and adjusting his scarf. He carried their only suitcase and led the way up the steep cobble stoned walkway to the house.

The door was a brilliant shade of blue and was numbered 6A in faded gold brass. At the top of the steps, lay a doormat that read the words WELCOME in green shamrock lettering. He knocked firmly on the door and waited. After a moment or two, the door was opened, and a middle aged woman stood and stared at them.

“Archee?” she asked startled, with a strong Irish accent.

“Yes,” he said smiling, relieved that they had finally arrived at the right place.

The woman hesitated, “I wasn’t expecting . . .” her voice trailed off as she looked at them. Her face flushed like a rose, she closed the door.

Continue reading “Maynooth-A Dream Come True Part 1”