Travel The World

As a small child, I browsed through glossy travel magazines and watched animal programmes set in places like Africa. I grew up longing and wanting to leave me surroundings for something new. I grew up believing that the UK was dull, boring and there was nothing left here for me. I hated castles, I hated history and being in a military family made me want to leave even more when I heard my Grandfather’s stories about places like Belgium and Germany. My Grandma would tell me about growing up in Italy, and my other Grandma would tell me about America. She came from Pennsylvania and just listening to her talk about the city streets of Pittsburgh made me want to go and see it for myself.

I wanted to see outside my own back yard. With having such an inter-continental family, I knew that it wouldn’t be long until I moved somewhere tropical or far-away. The first time I ever got on a plane was when I was eight and we went on our first family holiday to Spain. I remember thinking how big the plane was and how nice the stewardesses were when they gave me and my younger brother crayons and some paper to keep up occupied on the two hour flight. They were so smartly dressed, with their perfect make up and their wide smiles. I decided on that first trip that I wanted to be like them, not necessarily a stewardess but I knew I wanted to have a job where I could see the world.

So, continuing on in the family tradition- when I was 12, I joined the Sea Cadets. I decided that I wanted to be a Wren and I wanted to see the world on a boat. I loved the Sea Cadets. It was strict, and we would meet every Saturday morning in our uniforms. Bright and early, shoes shined and uniform correctly pressed. Sir, yes sir! I learned the basics of the Navy, I learned what to do and what not to do. It was a lesson in discipline and good grounding for me as a teenager. At the time, I was a little rebellious and my parents were willing to let me go as it meant that I wouldn’t roll off the rails and get into stuff I probably shouldn’t have. When I was 16 and I had left secondary school, I wanted to join up full time to become a Navy recruit so I went along in my Sea Cadets uniform to sign the dotted line. I passed the physical (although, it was tough). I passed the tests that required basic English and Maths skills. I failed the medical, all because of my asthma. That night, I went home and threw the uniform into the bin. Then I pulled it out and threw it onto the fire in the living room. I was livid with myself, I sat there crying as I watched all my hopes and dreams go up in smoke.

So, I went with my second choice. I couldn’t apply to be a stewardess until I was 18, so I went along to the local college to apply for a photography course. It was my main hobby and passion in life (other than having an obsession with travelling), and my parents bought me a camera for the course as my seventeenth birthday gift. I was so happy, holding the shiny toy in my hands and wanting to take pictures of absolutely everything. I also thought that having a little bit of culture could also stand me in good stead on my stewardess application. The two years flew by and when I left with respectable grades, I knew my nineteenth birthday was fast approaching and I should be good enough to apply at a company for a stewardess position.

By this point, the term ‘stewardess’ was considered to be old fashioned and slightly sexist, so the new term of ‘cabin crew’ was introduced. I applied at British Midland, a local airline for a Cabin Crew position and thought that with having a two year course in Photography under my belt and the ability to speak fluent Spanish and a little Italian would stand me well. I had good GCSE’s, I was intelligent with a bubbly personality and the ability to work as a team and get along with everyone. I told them on the application about how I don’t like to see people sad and I will always go out of my way to make people happy. I got an interview and I was ecstatic the day the letter dropped onto the doormat. I went along to the group interview in my best navy skirt suit with heels and a fresh hair cut. I looked the part. I got there and I felt like a man in drag. People stared at me and there were a lot of women who was stunning. I felt like Stig of the Dump. They oozed confidence and grace, where I was flat footed and shuffled along in my uncomfortable heels like a bag lady. There was a lot of role play and I thought I did well, but two weeks later and hearing nothing back…it was back to square one.

I’ve been told at work I could have been great cabin crew. I agree. I think I’m a great people person. But obviously that day, British Midland didn’t think so. My confidence was shot after two major rejections in a year and I flew myself to America for a new life. I wanted my old past to melt away and I could start anew. I did, but the moment I returned to the UK- the old past came flooding back and my life memories settled into to haunt me forever.