There is nothing better than a smooth Jazz band to listen to while enjoying a pint of ice cold beer after an 8 hour flight. This three piece is rocking the sounds and I only hope for a jazz flute solo to really make my day. For those not in the know I am on my way to Europe for a little sojourn after finishing my Doctorate….that’s right kids, it’s finally over and you may now address me as Dr Moloney!! The main part of my trip is a stroll across Spain…an 800km stroll to be precise. If you think I am crazy then you wouldn’t be far off the mark, but it’s a pilgrim walk called the Camino de Santiago, of which I will fill you in through this blog along the way.

My initial reason for this blog was to keep my Family informed of my travels, and since my Mam and Dad have done parts of this walk already and kept a fantastic walking diary, I wanted to do the same. I hope to make it more about my observations on the trip rather than a how to guide, but I will for those who have already asked, give as much information on the gear I use for the walk and the pros and cons of doing this on my own, carrying a backpack with only two sets of clothes, and staying in the traditional hostels or alburges (al-bur-gays) along the way….My bestie Katie told me before I left not to talk to strangers, but I fear I may have to if only for the purpose of giving my (non)judgmental opinions for your enjoyment. Already I could fill a moleskin hardbound book on the people who travel from Brisbane International Airport….but rather than sound like a twat (like I just did with the moleskin comment) I’ll leave you with this observation of travelling attire for those on long haul flights.

My brother John dropped me at the airport for my flight. It was relatively early – 7.30 ish in the a.m. On approach to the drop off areas we both spy a family doing the kiss and drop (and roll)….because god forbid if you stay any longer than the 30 secs the airport gestapo allow to stay at the departures. Anyway, what drew our attention was a neon pair of trackies (track suit pants for those unfamiliar). John casually passed the comment that surely she was not travelling, but rolled of bed in her Pjs to say good bye to family member. I countered with “not a chance…that’s her travelling outfit”…”Nah” says John as the indignation was slowly rising, “you can’t travel like that…unless you’re a bogan off to Bali for the 500th time”….”Damn straight” I say….”Off to replenish their collection of Bintang singlets and hair braids”. That was the extent of our sartorial exchange as I said my goodbyes, and went to queue like a cow ready for milking at check-in and then customs. No-one is happy, ever, at this point of travel. You see a line that wraps around the entire departures terminal and think, if I’m stuck in the middle of a middle row in a packed plane with no escape, I’m going to shoot myself. You receive your boarding pass, with the sly smirk off the ground crew that says ‘no matter how polite you are, or that your title is Dr (yes I booked it that way) you will never get upgraded’…you head to customs where you see how people pack…little plastic bags full of liquids, face creams, drinks etc, and think ‘are these people travelling to space where there are no shops?’…you smile at the customs official who has been trained in the art of ‘don’t f*%k with me’ and head to your boarding gate. You get on your flight, settle yourself in, unload your book which you will never be read because there is on demand television, and think ‘Garcon, bring the drinks cart’…until you look across your row and see neon pink trackies blinding you and your now fragile patience thinks…”do you get Bintag singlets and braids in Hong Kong…fux sake, glad John isn’t on the flight, he’d be outraged’.

My Jazz band has taken a break, but I have hours to kill so I’m still holding out for a flute solo…or maybe if I’m lucky a saxophone….and I’ll leave you with this thought from one of the greatest movies of all time…Top Gun…..

Stinger: And if you screw up just this much, you’ll be flying a cargo plane full of rubber dog shit out of Hong Kong!