Ryanair has carried out its threat to scrap services between London and Brussels’ Charleroi airport, in an escalation of its battle with the European commission over illegal state aid from the Belgian authorities. In its summer schedule, it was revealed that its eight daily flights between the two cities would end on April 29. Ryanair blamed the EC’s ruling this month that the airline’s landing deal at Charleroi was illegal. Rivals say that the route may have been hit by competition from rival airlines and Eurostar.

Ryanair has banned eight passengers for life for compromising passenger and crew safety by smoking on board. The eight people were on different flights, and all cases have been referred to police.

Never let it be said that we are always horrible about Ryanair. Here’s a website where you can see some positive comments about our friend: http://www.ciao.co.uk/ryanair_com__77254 This website allows you to enter your views, pros and cons about using Ryanair. All three of the pros that the Beetle saw when she looked at it were to do with price – it’s cheap, the cons say impractical deals, no meals on board and a slow website.

For the sake of balance, here’s another website where you can record your own Ryanair misery story: Stories include luggage not being on the same flight as the passenger and all the hassle involved in getting some sort of recompense from Ryanair, money taken without confirmation and comments about the way Ryanair operate – little things, like using premium rate telephone numbers if you want to contact them and lack of e-mail address. It’s sober reading.

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U. S. Soldiers Home, Washington: during a century of travel (well 78 years!) both in and out of service I have travelled to over 150 countries (I count both North and South Dakota as countries) and for some reason have jotted signs and happenings that I thought funny at the time (and now wonder why). So here is the perfect opportunity to share some of my anecdotes.

I admire those that speak many languages. I don’t. This reminds me of the guy that spread out the blanket for his girl friend and noticing the wet grass said: “some dew”. She replied “I don’t”.

The Japanese are very polite. You can be murdering their language and they will say: “You speak very good Japanese”. You then know you don’t. The French sneer at me if I don’t get the pronunciation right. I would try out a few words of French and would get the sneer.

In India and the Philippines because there are so many languages their leaders sometimes give their speeches in English. This surprised me but I was told they reach more people that way. In Mexico, I don’t speak much Spanish, but I am a very good guesser. I have a booklet that has pictures in it of different objects and no matter what country I am in when I want something I point to the picture. I am a good pointer.

I envy those that speak French as it sounds so sophisticated to me. My French is limited to: “Come and tie my shoe”, “Mow de lawn”, “Chevrolet coupe”. I was asked to leave France. I met some French people individually on a one to one basis having been introduced by someone and even was invited to a French couples’ home (both were school teachers.) They had a copy of newspaper printed the day after D Day when the Germans were printing the paper and gave me a copy, interpreting it for me. It said such things as The Terrorists (allies) have arrived but they will be pushed back. I had copies made and gave one copy to French embassy here.

While we Americans don’t speak very many languages, at the same time I think American are a friendly lot and are apt to invite foreigners into their homes or help foreigners on the street. I also lived in a French couple’s home right after the War. It is a long story but they were very hospitable to me. This was in Biarritz, France and the townspeople did not like us. We thought Hitler was going to go down to Spain to meet Franco and go thorough a train station in Biarritz. Our airplanes were meant to hit the train station but travelling so fast they bombed a path from the ocean right though the town.

On the other hand when the Germans occupied Biarritz they had the elite of their troops there and the French told us so they were so neat when they went to the beach lining their equipment up nice etc.

Next month, Mac discusses his 1990’s travel trip to Malaysia, Singapore, India, and on komodo dragons .

If you would like to contact Mac, he can be e-mailed on: macsan400@yahoo.com

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Having been nothing but impressed with the way the Mikindani Sports Club or ‘Klabu ya Uboreshaji’ (the club’s Swahili name which means improving oneself through sports) was been run, I wanted to reward the club’s members along with others in the village with a day of competitions. Thanks to the efforts of those volunteers with me and several willing helpers on the day, the 26^th December brought memories to a vast number of people, both spectators and competitors alike. We held a sports day which included a Bao competition and a football six-a-side taking place on the football ground on Mikindani’s biggest football team.

Bao is a traditional Swahili board game played on a board on which seeds are moved around a series of carved out dishes, the object of the game being to take your opponents seeds achieved by finishing moves adjacent to an opponents seed. Without explaining the ins and outs of the game a skilful play is made through experience, strategic play and being able to think moves ahead of the game which may be compared to chess or draughts. In Mikindani the older generation of males are the most respected group of players so we invited three players from each of the village wards to join up for a knock-out style competition. Proceedings took place under a mango tree and organisation took care of itself as there was a competitive but friendly atmosphere and players were self-affiliating and all joined together, rather enjoying playing along side the best players in the village. As the rounds went by, large crowds were drawn in and the final was quite a spectacle with two players surrounded by a sea of onlookers, both competing for the prize money placed underneath the playing board. The champion was delighted with his title but all players were very humble and delighted with how the competition took place.

While the Bao players ate complementary lunch, final preparations were being made to the football pitches which were small with full sized goals promising lots of scoring and the eight teams (made up from two sides from each of Mikindani’s four football teams) were warming up and stretching off. Matches commenced and those who were not players gathered on the sidelines with large numbers of spectators to watch who was on form and for any nominations for the man of the tournament who would receive some golden football boots! Games were fast and furious as any decent six-a-side should be but again collectiveness and good spirit between teams was evident throughout.

The crowds cheered as we were treated to some dazzling touches and outstanding play from all teams but the final was eventually contended (after both semi-finals going to penalties, the hero goalkeepers held above heads by the rest of the team and a few passionate supporters!) between Cigara F.C and Beach Boys who we were told were the equivalent to ‘Arsenal and Manchester United’; long standing rivals keen to get one up on the other. In a closely fought final Beach Boys won by a single goal and their followers ran on the pitch to congratulate their team just as though they were professional sports men. A presentation ended the day’s proceedings and a team photo of the 2003 winners.

Later that day and the next, several comments from teams and supporters gave their thanks for the day. I was told by some it was ‘the best public holiday ever’, ‘never to be beaten’ and ‘the village was awoken with delight and happiness’. These are exactly the feelings I hoped to bring about and numerous groups in Mikindani were fulfilled, old men, young footballers and families of supporters all had a brilliant day.

For more information about Trade Aid, volunteers and their work, please visit their website: www.mikindani.com

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I decided to go on a safari in Africa – not so unusual. However, all of the travel information I was able to dig up in preparation for this life experience talked about the game drives during the day and the typical you’ll see this many giraffes, this many zebra, this many lion, etc. I was not able to find information on what it was like being out there in your tent in the middle of the night. But I went anyway – not knowing. As it turns out that was my favourite part of the trip.

It’s October, we arrive in Tanzania and eventually make it to our camp deep in the Serengeti – Kusini Camp run by Fred and Carol, who are two of the coolest people my husband and I have ever met. We go out for some game viewing which is great fun, as expected. Evening starts to roll around, we have a great dinner, and then relax by the fire. As we are sitting around the fire listening to Fred’s crazy hunting stories we hear a slight noise to our right. As we look over, the Masai tribesman, who is monitoring the perimeter of the camp for wild animals shines a light on the stone bird bath not but 10 feet away. There is an enormous Cape Buffalo drinking from the birdbath. A magnificent sight up so close. This is when I knew that night time was going to be the best.

Shortly after, the Masai tribesman with rifle in hand, escorts my husband and I back to our tent – fully equipped with a small walkie talkie in case of an emergency. As we settle down for sleep we notice the unbelievably unique quiet surrounding us. It’s deafening quiet, however amongst the quiet you can hear the sounds of Africa. I can’t stand it anymore. I jump up, grab the spotlight provided, and start to survey the land around us through the thin mesh windows of the tent that separate us from them. Under the magnificent light of the stars in the black sky I am able to see an elephant slowly moving toward our tent. He arrives in only a minute or two to graze on the grass surrounding our temporary canvas residence. He is loud when he eats and a bit clumsy fooling around in the bush. But graceful and so close I could smell his dank leathery breath. I know he could charge at any minute if I went out and got in his way, but I feel safe inside and am able to watch him from only a few small feet away.

Later, I wake up to what I consider a roar, and it wasn’t my husband! This immediately provokes me to get out the spotlight again. This time I cannot see anything, not even a set of yellow eyes, but I can hear the roar from time to time. You just know he’s there. I set up shop by the opening to my tent waiting for him to emerge. I slept right there on the wooden floor but never saw him. In any case, this was surreal enough.

The next night I could barely wait to head back to the tents. This time I was ready and wanted the entire wild kingdom at my doorstep. While I lay there I could hear a lion again. I think he came back – maybe he liked it there as much as I did. I kept listening until I finally fell asleep. Fred was able to confirm my suspicions in the morning – there were lions in our camp.

We headed on the 4^th day to a different camp in the Western part of the Serengeti – Kira Wira camp on the Grumeti River. During the night at Kira Wira I was also able to feel the excitement of being out in the wilderness. Again I awaken halfway into the night. This time to watch a hippo casually stroll by our tent and then head over to my Aunt’s tent nearby. The big fellow sauntered through the bush. I couldn’t believe it – up until this point I had only seen their heads in the water.

In the morning our Kira Wira friend came to wake us up with our usual coffee and tea just at sunrise. As he began to leave our porch he was confronted by a small herd of about 10 Cape Buffalo that came to graze by our tent or try to stay safe from the lion and lioness that may start to get hungry again. We were able to watch these buffalo in the faint morning light. They were only a few feet away looking falsely harmless and eating their breakfast.

Our last night we began our tent ritual by sitting on the bed with all of the tent windows zipped open looking out at the darkness. A large bat landed on the meshy “front door”. As it hung out there we watched its quick tiny movements. All of a sudden a long very furry blob leapt up on the door and grabbed the bat, whisking it away into the night. It all happened so fast we are still not sure what kind of 3 foot Civet or Janet it was that had been lurking nearby but it was an amazing close to our last eerie evening.

While the game drives were awe-inspiring across Tanzania, as I am sure they are all over Africa, I have to say that by far the most exciting part of the trip was not knowing what kind of visitor I would have each night and how close they would venture to mingle with this crazy New Yorker.

Kusini Camp info:

P.O. Box 427, Arusha, Tanzania

tel: +255 27 2502143

fax: +255 27 2508273

kmkjmz@optonline.net

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A recent New Zealand study of almost 900 passengers has shown that up to one in 100 long-haul fliers could develop blood clots, and wearing compression stockings, taking aspirin and travelling business class may not help.

The press release says: “New Zealand researchers tested almost 900 passengers who took long-haul flights over a six-week period. The subjects travelled for at least 10 hours and each flew an average of 39 hours. They discovered nine cases, four of pulmonary embolism and five of deep vein thrombosis (DVT), which involves the formation of blood clots which can cause death if they invade the lungs or brain.

Seventeen percent of the passengers in the study by the Medical Research Institute of New Zealand wore compression stockings to aid circulation. Thirty-one percent took aspirin to thin the blood and reduce the risk of thrombosis”. The conclusion is that all air travellers are at risk and not just those in economy class. The team carrying out the research even suggested renaming ‘economy class syndrome’ to ‘traveller’s thrombosis.’

During recent court action, victims have blamed cramped aircraft cabins for their blood clots and argued that airlines have known of the risks for years but failed to warn people. A British court recently agreed with the airlines, which claimed that DVT was not an accident under the 1929 Warsaw Convention that governs international air travel.

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