You mean nothing hilarious ever happened to you on a trip? C'mon, let us in on it - or any other travel humor that comes your way!
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The joys of flying in 2026
Ceneri I most recently flew just last week, and by the time I reached the airport — at 8:05 am, meaning I had to get up around four, thank you very much — I was already exhausted, and my flight wasn’t even delayed yet, which felt suspicious. At check-in, a cheerful sign announced: “ALL BAGS MUST WEIGH LESS THAN A SENSE OF OPTIMISM.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the desk agent sighed, slapped a sticker on my bag, and whispered, “Good luck out there.” read post
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Nepalese security makes TSA look really lame. When you enter the airport in Kathmandu, before you even check in, your checked baggage is sent thru an x-ray machine, your carry on is searched, and then men and women are sent to different lines for a serious pat-down. Then you go to the counter for your boarding pass and to check your bags. The bags are x-rayed again. You proceed to a pre-boarding waiting area with restaurants, duty free and slot machines. Before you can get into that area, your carry on is checked, again, and you are patted down, again. These are not light pat downs. These guys have a fetish.
Then, when your flight is called, they get serious. I stood in line behind an older gentleman from Chile. He was traveling with a group of Chileans. We had chosen the most gung-ho checker in the history of flight security. He made the Chilean empty his carry-on knapsack. He then proceeded to open the toiletries bags and do things like sniff the deodorant and the cologne. Then he reached a clearly labeled plastic bottle with a white cream inside, he asked the man “What is this?”
“Face cream” said the man.
“Put some on” said the guard.
He squeezed a glob on his palm and rubbed it onto his face. This pleased the security guard. He went back to work. He pulled out a bag of nuts.
“What are these? He asked.
The Chilean, by now a bit flabbergasted, and almost late for his flight to Paris, replied like the General in charge of the 101st at Bastogne, NUTS!
The guard opened the baggies and took a few out, handed them to the man and said “Eat these”.
The Chilean was a well behaved man and obviously well travelled. He knew better than to argue, and munched down. I truly doubt they were hashish made to look like nuts. If they were, this old man had a great fight to Paris!
They went back and forth for a few more minutes. I was in no hurry and had nothing to hide so I just watched. When the guard escorted the man to the next pat-down, I stepped up to the table and completely emptied my bag. Laptop, laptop battery, camera, video camera, extra batteries, various electrical chords and chargers, a couple of pens, a pad of paper, and my sunglasses. Yeah, I travel light, ok? I took absolutely everything out of individual cases, even my sunglasses. The only thing I thought would be confiscated was the tiniest pair of scissors ever made, so I put them over on the side away from my passable items.
First he picked up my knapsack and felt every seam and inspected every side pocket.
Then he picked up my lap top battery which resembles a pipe-bomb.
“What is this?”
He watched as I attached it to my laptop.
“See, battery, makes laptop go zoom zoom”
He inspected all my other electronics like a cave man would inspect a mirror. Then he spotted my tiny little scissors.
“Ahhh, this no good. This no go” he said with a triumphant air.
“OK” I said. “No good, no go” and he was done. He had won. He had found something.
I carefully packed up my bag. Then I looked over at the woman’s line. The Chilean women were getting agitated at the guards inspecting their toiletries and showing it. I saw my wife. Sure enough; they found her diabetes medicines and syringes. Oh Boy, this should be good. She carries a letter from her doctor about the medicines, and she never carries on more than she should need for a flight. She handed the letter to the inspector. The inspector had to go get a supervisor. I was all ready to intervene, but the inspector came over and poked his fingers with the needles (really a dumb move if you ask me) and then let her go.
We went to the boarding area. Before we got on the bus that takes you across the tarmac to the plane, you guessed it, one more pat down.
Meanwhile, this just in:
"British tourists have reportedly been warned to avoid a group of aggressive mountain cows who have attacked ramblers in the Pyrenees."
Why don't I have one. Because not only is it invasive, used for unscrupulous invasions of privacy, but it is so so damn lame.
Facebook is to blogging, or even email, as golf is to the NBA. It has decimated writing styles so much I can't stand it.
Following are some "Samples" and replies I would send if the messages were sent to me.
"just went swimming, feel so good"
Masterbate, feels better.
"Going out to dinner tonight with an old chum"
Great, try not to get drunk and kill anyone else on the road while you are texting us all what you had for dinner.
"My mother turns 60 today!"
Interesting, you are what? 47?
"I just got a new puppy"
Feed it high protein food and sell it to a Vietnamese restaurant in 6 months.
Get it now? See why I am not on FaceBonk?
"How to find love (or just sex with foreigners) at 35,000 feet" http://www.hipstertravelguide.com/archives/7095
What’s more, the same people who stood in line in front of me in Perth or West LA or NYC stand in line in front of me in Chiang Mai, and everywhere else. They all ask for just about the same thing. The session goes something like this.
“I’ll have a half latte, half mocha, half cappuccino with half cream and make it only half hot please.”
By the time the barista, usually a college educated person in their mid twenties bummed at using their degree in Philosophy to do chemistry experiments with coffee beans, is ready to serve me, I am perturbed. My problem, fine. Here is how my order goes.
“I’ll have a small black coffee”
“Will that be mocha or a cappuccino?
“Coffee”
“Fresh cream from Sumatran sacred goats in that sir?”
“Black, a small black coffee”
“A grande then”
“No. Didn’t you learn anything at Harvard? Grande means big, large, and bigger than small. I want, again, now listen hard, A SMALL BLACK COFEE”
“Do you want Columbian, Kenyan, Costa Rican or our house blend?”
“If it is black, and you don’t ask another question, I don’t care.”
A brief roll of the eyes that say “I should have gone to grad school” is followed by “Yes sir, that will be (Insert too high a price in any currency here)”
But this is just my problem. I’m glad I did not graduate into this economy, so I still tip them.
If you decide to come to Chiang Mai, I’ll meet you in the Starbucks by the Thai Pea gate. Anytime. The guy quoting Thoreau in Thai is my waiter.
The Telegraph (UK) reports that a man from eastern Australia visiting western Australia climbed into an enclosure with sea crocodiles and tried to mount one called Fatso. "Police said he had been ejected from a nearby pub for being too drunk before he decided to scale a barbed wire fence to get a closer look at the reptile and give him a pat...."
The local police chief reported, "He has attempted to sit on its back and the croc has taken offence to that." The guy is now recuperating in a hospital.
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