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Time and things have changed
published: Saturday | January 13, 2007 <DIV class=KonaBody>
Hartley Neita
The first time I travelled abroad, I was 29 years of age. For weeks before leaving Jamaica, friends who had done the journey insisted I should take a washout. This, they said, would prevent seasickness. I ruled out all the purges my mother gave me as a child. No castor oil, no herb tea, no senna, and no salt physic.
Then a nurse told me I could get castor oil pills. Sure, I said, I will take them. The memory of the nasty tasting, thick, brown syrup was frightening. But, I almost changed my mind when I saw the size of the pills and was told I had to swallow six. I finally did, only to be told I had to take salt physic to wash out the castor oil. I have never forgiven that nurse.
My journey was by boat, from Port Antonio to Southampton. The ship took 10 days to forge its way across the Atlantic. Despite my purge, I spent half the journey being seasick, lying on my bunk in the cabin and rushing to the bathroom to throw up breakfast, lunch or dinner. It was agony.
Yet, when I felt well, it was wonderful. One vivid memory was the sight of scores of whales floating peacefully on the surface of the ocean and spewing water into the air. Another was the sight of water spouts joining the clouds and the ocean.
The long trip
There were only 12 passengers on the boat, so we got to know each other and the crew very well. We played bridge - when I was well - dominoes, and deck games. For exercise, we jogged around the deck. There was a radio in the dining room, but once we went over the horizon beyond Port Antonio, the reception was poor. Sailing along the south coast of Haiti we could hear French-speaking radio stations, and the next contact with the world was the day before reaching England when we could hear the BBC.
It was mid-winter then. When we arrived at Southampton, I did not want to leave the ship. The cold was unbearable, I wanted to come back home. Back to the warmth of my island home. But it was not to be.
Since then, I have done the journey many times. By air. At first there were no direct flights to England. We had to fly to New York and then cross the Atlantic after refuelling. And it took hours and hours and hours. When we reached London we were exhausted.
It was worse before. You had to fly to Miami. Take another plane to New York. Take another to Iceland. Take another to Scotland, and finally fly to London. I believe it was nearly 24 hours in the air.
faster travel
Today, it is different. My children and more recently my grandchildren and their friends have been travelling abroad from they were two years of age. In 90 minutes they can reach Miami. In three hours, New York. In about five hours they reach London from New York. They know not the agony of the long time propeller-powered planes took to do these flights.
Travel patterns have also changed. In my time, every member of one's family and scores of friends went to the airport to see you off. That is why our airports had waving galleries. They could also follow you from the point of buying your ticket to the immigration desk. That is a no-no now. We also bought flight insurance then; recently, we lost the fear.
America's behaviour and actions are bringing back the fear. And insurance companies will once more gain a fortune. I wish I had the courage of a friend who, when told by American officials he was to be subjected to a strip search, started taking off his clothes in full view of everyone.
"Please, sir. It's all right sir. You don't have to sir ...."</DIV>
published: Saturday | January 13, 2007 <DIV class=KonaBody>
Hartley Neita
The first time I travelled abroad, I was 29 years of age. For weeks before leaving Jamaica, friends who had done the journey insisted I should take a washout. This, they said, would prevent seasickness. I ruled out all the purges my mother gave me as a child. No castor oil, no herb tea, no senna, and no salt physic.
Then a nurse told me I could get castor oil pills. Sure, I said, I will take them. The memory of the nasty tasting, thick, brown syrup was frightening. But, I almost changed my mind when I saw the size of the pills and was told I had to swallow six. I finally did, only to be told I had to take salt physic to wash out the castor oil. I have never forgiven that nurse.
My journey was by boat, from Port Antonio to Southampton. The ship took 10 days to forge its way across the Atlantic. Despite my purge, I spent half the journey being seasick, lying on my bunk in the cabin and rushing to the bathroom to throw up breakfast, lunch or dinner. It was agony.
Yet, when I felt well, it was wonderful. One vivid memory was the sight of scores of whales floating peacefully on the surface of the ocean and spewing water into the air. Another was the sight of water spouts joining the clouds and the ocean.
The long trip
There were only 12 passengers on the boat, so we got to know each other and the crew very well. We played bridge - when I was well - dominoes, and deck games. For exercise, we jogged around the deck. There was a radio in the dining room, but once we went over the horizon beyond Port Antonio, the reception was poor. Sailing along the south coast of Haiti we could hear French-speaking radio stations, and the next contact with the world was the day before reaching England when we could hear the BBC.
It was mid-winter then. When we arrived at Southampton, I did not want to leave the ship. The cold was unbearable, I wanted to come back home. Back to the warmth of my island home. But it was not to be.
Since then, I have done the journey many times. By air. At first there were no direct flights to England. We had to fly to New York and then cross the Atlantic after refuelling. And it took hours and hours and hours. When we reached London we were exhausted.
It was worse before. You had to fly to Miami. Take another plane to New York. Take another to Iceland. Take another to Scotland, and finally fly to London. I believe it was nearly 24 hours in the air.
faster travel
Today, it is different. My children and more recently my grandchildren and their friends have been travelling abroad from they were two years of age. In 90 minutes they can reach Miami. In three hours, New York. In about five hours they reach London from New York. They know not the agony of the long time propeller-powered planes took to do these flights.
Travel patterns have also changed. In my time, every member of one's family and scores of friends went to the airport to see you off. That is why our airports had waving galleries. They could also follow you from the point of buying your ticket to the immigration desk. That is a no-no now. We also bought flight insurance then; recently, we lost the fear.
America's behaviour and actions are bringing back the fear. And insurance companies will once more gain a fortune. I wish I had the courage of a friend who, when told by American officials he was to be subjected to a strip search, started taking off his clothes in full view of everyone.
"Please, sir. It's all right sir. You don't have to sir ...."</DIV>