Life on the road has left me a man of many words of wise devices. You see, you can teach a man how to pre-check in. But you can’t teach a man how to charm an air-hostess into pre-checking in for him. Here are a few tips I have picked up in my many years as a Man o’ the Air.

1.    Never ride the luggage carousel because it’s called a carousel and that sounds like fun. Take it from me, this will end in tears. But not tears that you cry. Tears in your pants. Because there is a sharp hookie thing that will catch your pants when you go through the flappy things and then your pants will tear and people will see that you forgot to put on your favourite palm tree jocks.

2.   Do not, and I repeat, do not play ‘ski-ski’ on the flat escalator thingies. I know that ski-ski sounds like the best game in the world. On a ski slope, I promise you, it is. But in the airports, it should be called the ‘get punched in the face with handluggage game’. Which is a fun game too, but that’s a whole other post…

3.   As tempting as it is to eat the man who has fallen asleep on your shoulder’s free biscuit, do not do it. Huge men on airplanes who fall asleep and leave their free biscuits do it just so a nice oke like you will get biscuit rage while he snores. I have only ever taken the biscuit bait once, and let me tell you, never again. Just leave that biscuit alone.

And that’s it for this time, fellow bloggeroos. I’ll be sure to keep you updated with more tips as I learn them. As it is, my black eye is still fresh from the last one. Til next time,

Trev

Trev here. Now I know that my life may seem all peachy rose-coloured glass-shaped, but the truth is, I gotta pull a lot of strings behind the scenes to make this puppy dance. Now booking over peak periods is a frustration we know all about, so I though I’d share some of my nifty tricks with you.

1.    When you call the kulula call centre, tell them that you are phoning from the future, and that an asteroid has hit planet earth and you are using the last of the airtime that exists. Explain that if you do not get a seat on your desired flight, you will miss your graduation at NASA, and will be unable to save the world from the asteroid since you will not have obtained your degree. This one almost always works.

2.    Type your name on the booking form as The President Of The World. You’d be surprised at how many people don’t question it, and will merely point out that ‘they did not know the world had a president – how fascinating!’

3.    Hum the theme song to Psycho. Really loudly. If the operator asks you to hum a little softer (because it’s ‘distracting’) be sure to mention where the song is from, a la “Oh you want me to stop humming the theme song to Psycho? Pity that’s my favourite movie. I just think Norman Bates is so misunderstood.” With this one, you need an operator under the age of 40 if they are to get the movie reference, so use it at your discretion.

I know what you’re thinking – some of these suggestions seem to obvious now that I mention them! But that, my bloggalicious backpacking companions, is the sign of a brilliant idea. You give these a spin for their money and you let me know how it runs out.

Howzit my travel-hungry hound dawgs. Trev here. Your man with his ear to his feet on the ground. Your man with his nose on the roses. Your man waving his face in the air like he just don’t care. The ladies love it when I do that. They wave their faces in the air right back.

As you know, I am a man of journeys. Physical journeys, mostly. Okay basically I like to go places. While I was journeying through the internet, I stumbled across this Ricoffee-soaked biscuit of a website called Nomadic Matt run by a oke who fancies himself a bit of a Trevor (just less clever). His name is ‘Nomadic Matt’ and he travels the world writing about it. Kinda like Trev, if by ‘world’ you mean, ‘South Africa and sometimes Mauritius’.

Anyway check his flow for a bit of that ‘man about towns’ vibe. I reckon this is the only guy I know who might know more about stealing free stuff from hotels than I do. Matt, if you’re reading this, I’m your boy Trev and I got a fan fever for you.

Peace. Trevells.

As a man who has seen many things in his travelling lifetime, I am not often surprised. But let me tell you, a few posts into this adventurous young fellow’s meaty journey of discovery, and my eyebrows were higher than the headbobbles of a giraffe who is stuck in a tree. Check out Weird Meat for one man’s quest to eat the meats of many things in many places. This comes with the Trevor Stamp of Maybe-don’t-talk-about-this-at-your-braai .

As a well-travelled man of mystery, I am naturally drawn to mysteries elsewhere in life. Much like the mystery of how John Chew can allow a word like ‘garlickiest’ at the World Scrabble Championships. My twitter friends have recently alerted me to a website that I have become rather fond of, namely Atlas Obscura, ‘a compendium of the world’s wonders, curiosities and esoterica’, and it is filled with tales of mystery from very mysterious places around the world. This site comes with The Trevor Stamp of Approval.