Happy New Year!

I’ve just gotten back from a Christmas break in Vietnam. It was brilliant. The spring rolls, I mean the people were so tasty, I mean welcoming. I warmed to the spring rolls, I mean the country as soon as I found out that the currency is the Vietnamese Dong. Telling your boyfriend that he ‘better get his Dong out’ in every restaurant you eat in for two weeks if anything makes the spring rolls, I mean the spring rolls, even more tasty, I mean welcoming.

We spent New Year’s Eve at a hotel bar in Ho Chi Minh observing local New Year’s customs by watching a ten piece latin band from Brazil do things with bongos whilst wearing Easyjet orange satin waistcoats. While us Brits welcome in the New Year with Auld Lang Zyne, it turns out the Vietnamese prefer a group sing a long to Shakira’s greatest recording accomplishment ‘Waka Waka’. Nothing makes you feel more immersed in South-East Asian culture than loudly yelling ‘This time for Africa!’ with a room full of Russian ex-pats as the clock strikes midnight.

But that wasn’t even the best bit of the trip. I know. What can be better than Shakira rockeoke? Well obviously it’s the the long haul flight. Seriously – what’s not to love? Sitting in a cushioned seat under a fleecy blanket watching dreadful films while sucking on miniature bottles of Baileys  – it’s like being a student again. Except at university there is no nice lady with red lipstick bringing you beef curry (always beef curry) every four hours. Plus uni costs more. And there is less toilet roll.

I flew with Emirates who are now officially my favourite airline because they give you stickers to put on your chair/jumper/head that say ‘Wake me up for breakfast!’. You haven’t lived until you’ve been a personified food order.

There’s also ‘Do Not Disturb’ stickers, which mean that there you are, snoozing away, dribbling into your own clavicle like a garden feature with low water pressure, gently inhaling a cocktail of effervescent faecal matter all relaxed and floppy-headed, yet at the very same time your jumper’s basically yelling ’SHUT YO MOUTHS BITCHES! I’M HAVING A SEX DREAM ABOUT KARL DROGO FROM GAME OF THRONES – WAKE ME UP AND I’LL DO A DEPARDIEU ON YOUR LAP!’.

Such power. What I would give to be able to use those in normal life. The freedom a Do Not Disturb sticker could offer at social functions. Cuddly Auntie Jean asks you pass her the frazzles? Never fear – point at the sticker and do your bit to reduce morbid obesity. Your child falls over leading to some rather successful bleeding from the head and starts yelling for you? No worries – you are wearing the sticker of power – just point to it and carry on reading the DailyMailOnline ironically; they’ll soon learn to self soothe.

Just make sure you put on the right sticker. You don’t want to try and blank a boring person by accidentally asking to be woken up for breakfast. Although, maybe then they’d bring you a croissant and be less boring. Or maybe, if you are very lucky, a spring roll.

And so ends the first draft of my Lonely Planet job application.

Happy new year y’all! x