December 10th, 2024Kyle’s Rant…

The trip’s finale  

We flew into LA a few weeks ago and my first thought was tipping the staff. This is a costly consideration considering the exchange rate and the 20 per cent of the  bill expected.

This is some weird business idea that just wouldn’t work in Australia because firstly our minimum wage for casual employees is $28 per hour and we tip if we are treated right or have had a good time with friends.

But in the good old USA where the minimum wage is as low as $2.50 per hour and veteran barkeeps and cocktail shaker artists can expect the withering tops of $12 per hour, they need tips.  

Another thing I don’t like about America is it’s full of Americans, who from my first impressions seem to be a bit piggish and selfish in their behaviours. I mean who blows their nose on a linen napkin at a restaurant?

Well, it turns out a good portion do. They are also loud and they talk the talk in terms of Christian behaviour and ethics but it seems to me that they would rather walk over each other than walk the walk.  

Things I like about America are limited but extend to their attitudes to dogs which can stay at hotels and fly with you. I also like the airplane seatbelts that could strap in an elephant and, even for me, leave an 18-inch tail after I am buckled in.  

Hotel rooms that you could swing half a dozen cats are great, and finally when the airplane docks, it isn’t a surprise to the groundcrew. A skybridge instantly appears and everyone gets off quick sticks.

Our trip through Central America came to a sad end when we found ourselves transferring through Auckland Airport and accidentally cut the queue. We and a couple of others had followed signs to the transfer which led to us blending into the queue.

We were quickly told by an American to go to the back which by this time was about 200 deep. She proclaimed it wasn’t fair, my retort was “you are quite right,  you have had your say and it’s now time to keep quiet, it was an accident”.  

Most of these countries in CA are poor, dirt poor and that is evidenced by the dirt that makes up their floors, the lack of amenities and stuff like running water that we all take for granted.

You won’t get to see that from a resort or a tour but deviate slightly from the promenades and boardwalks put there as welcome mats for the tourists, and you will get the picture. It doesn’t seem to matter where you go: Antigua, Costa Rica, Columbia or Panama, the story is the same, most of the folks out here are impoverished, living day-to-day.

And it galvanises my opinion that Australia is certainly the land of milk and honey with social services that offer a safety net.  Finally, we have arrived home and it feels good. I am tired.

Now I have been tired before, so tired as an 18-year-old deckhand after a gruelling 60 hours straight on the fish, steaming for an hour to pick up a longline set.

It was summer in the far north of New Zealand, breeding time for the snappers and huge pay cheques for the fisherman, but you had to work long and hard. I was in wet-weather gear but it was wetter on the inside than the out due to the roughness of the sea.

I lay on the deck, the lower half awash with the ocean, the upper half in the wheelhouse soaking up the heat from the engine until those dreaded words shattered my sleep “standby, standby” as we arrived at the fishing grounds.  

But I can’t recall being so tired that while having a pee last night, leaning on a wall, I fell asleep midstream until one of my legs gave way and woke me up. Such is the tiredness I experienced after our whirlwind trip to Central America and back.  Travel rant over…