The Castle

[Captain Halliday]

Invited to the Castle

Mrs H burst into the room.

Phone in hand.

A wide smile on her face and a spring in her step.

“<Name> is getting married!”

“That’s terrific. Pass on my congratulations.” I replied as I began contemplating a long weekend in Perth for the wedding.

“In a Castle, in Ireland”.

And with those five words, planning a simple long weekend became our third One World Classic Flight Award.


The bride is a close friend of Mrs H and while the happy couple live in Perth, both are Irish.

I should really have known the wedding location wasn’t going to be Margaret River.

With a date and location locked in for the wedding, I set about planning everything else.

 

[Captain Halliday]

The Itinerary

As with our two previous OWA’s I booked a positioning flight to Asia to allow use to get two trips into the one PNR and 35k mile limit.

This was by far the hardest of the three awards to put together – constructed as covid restrictions were easing.

Limited award inventory, a wedding date at the height of the northern summer, a desire to add Japan in December, and a very strong preference for Miss H to not miss any school.

But toughest of all, QF ticketing failures and partner flights (MH) being lost. But that’s a tale for a different thread.

For a range of reasons, we ended up with a combination of award flights: not all in the One World Award.

The need to use some SQ miles to get home allowed us to add a couple of extra destinations in Asia.

Potentially a sub-optimal use of points overall… but still far better than a straight cash outlay.

After navigating those challenges our final itinerary:

Part 1
BNExSYD-MNL (QF, QF) <positioning flight>

MNLxNRTxHNDxHELxAMS (JL, cross-city bus, AY, AY)

AMS-ZRH surface - own arrangements

ZHRxLHR-DUB(BA, BA)

DUBxLHRxSINxSYD-BNE (BA, BA, BA, QF)



Part 2
BNExSYD-HND (QF, QF)

HND-CTS-NRT (JL, JL) <nested separate award due 16 segment limit>

NRT-KUL (MH)

KUK-HKT (MH) <end OWA>

HKT-xSIN-BNE (SQ)

 

[I love to travel]

Impressive flights. Looking forward to this.

 

[Captain Halliday]

A declaration of war

Europe in summer.

Is there a better way to spend it than standing at an airport baggage carrousel?

What’s not to love about trying to look past those people who think the kitchen sink they packed will be delivered faster if they stand closer to the conveyer belt? (Hint: it won’t).

Or trying to spot your priority-tagged black suitcase as it emerges last, after thousands of other near-identical black suitcases?

I will concede that launching your bag off the conveyer directly into the knees of Mr Standing-too-close brings a perverse sense of joy

Still, it's not as good as walking off the plane and getting on with your trip.

With our itinerary including lots of transits and plenty of trains, packing light was essential.

But with a wedding was on the agenda, I was on a war footing.

I braced for a battle of epic proportions as the enemy sought to take more outfits than there were days in the trip…

Shoes that would never be worn…

Plus, hair and make-up items that would set excess baggage records.

I made a firm and early declaration: “HLO or you don’t go!”

After lobbing my greande, I waited for hostilities to begin…

 

[Captain Halliday]

The battle

Mrs H opened fire with, “We’re going for five weeks!”

“True, but you can only wear one outfit at a time” I replied.

The attack then turned to the weather.

Paris in summer.

The Swiss Alps.

And the windy North Sea coastline across the top of Ireland.

To be fair, HLO was a big ask.

As the battle raged, Miss H cracked first.

At an age where she is expected to carry her own luggage, she quickly joined the coalition of the willing.

This left Mrs H outnumbered.

But the battle was far from over.

The next assault began, conveniently, on Mother’s Day.

Arguing that most of our accommodation was in hotels that did not have washing facilities, Mrs H had not anticipated our defence.

Miss H, now fighting for team HLO, displayed outstanding bravery under fire, presenting her mother’s day gift: a portable washbag.

With the laundry argument neutralised, Mrs H retreated to the trenches and began a dummy pack.

Outfits were tried on.

Colourful words exclaimed.

After an hour it looked like there’d been an explosion in the wardrobe.

Then came the silence.

Followed by the white flag.

Mrs H emerged in surrender.

Exhausted.

Defeated.

But proudly carrying her small case.

It was bulging at the seams.

An uneasy peace settled.

HLO was declared the winner.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Check-in farce.

It’s fair to say the rest of my family are not morning people.

But even I found the 3am alarm unpleasant.

After being asked eight times if I’d packed the passports, were on our way.

Qantas online checking failed and so our first stop was Brisbane Domestic Premium Entry check in.

The solo passenger ahead of us flashed his passport and had the Sydney domestic to international transfer process explained to him.

After he was done, we approached the desk but were told international passengers had to check-in using the main desks out in the terminal because “this station doesn’t have the capacity to check in for international flights”.

Pre-empting my response, the agent effectively confirmed his own lie by adding, “I just helped that guy because he has a tight connection.”

We headed back out to join the scrum at the main check-in area.

As is often the case, those who follow the airline request to arrive early are punished, while the latecomers are rewarded.

With just two people ahead of us in the queue, we waited almost 20 minutes as passengers were called from the back because their flights were due to depart.

After spending an unnecessarily long time in the check-in area, our lounge time was brief.

A quick coffee and we were off to the gate.

Priority Boarding had already commenced, and we breezed through.

The flight from Brisbane to Sydney was routine.

Service included three meal options:

1. Granola and fruit salad.
2. Tomato quiche – chosen by Miss H

With the last quiche taken (damn that kid in 2F ) I selected option three:

Frittata with not quite cooked chicken sausages and spinach.



But it was the F lounge eggs benedict and corn frittas I was waiting for.

Little did I know the wait was just beginning…

 

[Captain Halliday]

Terminal transfer farce

Arriving in Sydney, we made our way to the international transfer desk.

It was packed.

A queue of people snaked its way past the food court as far as the exit doors.

We were in for a long wait.

It appeared busses were running every 10 minutes and within half an hour we were getting close to the front of the queue.

It was then that the first-come-first-boarded system switched to “anyone for Johannesburg, Queenstown and Wellington”.

We reached the front of the queue not long after and had to stand aside as a further five busses were dispatched.

More than an hour after arriving in Sydney we boarded the transfer bus and headed off, not realising until it was too late that our driver did not have the authority to operate the service.



At the international terminal we joined the queue of people waiting to fight with the automatic Immigration gates.

A final checkpoint before that feeling of being on holiday really kicked in.

But the feeling would have to wait…

 

[Captain Halliday]

Immigration delay

When travelling with Miss H, we generally have one parent in front and another behind her when passing through any sort of checkpoint.

The idea being that if something goes wrong, Miss H still has at least one parent to assist.

As it turned out, I was in front for outbound Immigration in Sydney.

I swiped my passport, looked at the bright light and proceeded through.

However, when Miss H stepped up, her passport failed.

A red light started flashing and men with disproportionately large biceps edged closer.

Mrs H began to glare at me with the “why is it always me” look.

Having already cleared Immigration I was powerless to help.

There was only one thing I could do:



Charge on ahead.

Book in for a massage.

And relax my way into the holiday.

But I’m not that foolish!

Instead, I twiddled my thumbs while Immigration officials scratched their heads.

In about ten minutes we were on our way.

But it was clear that delays had become a trend.

As we made our way to the First Class lounge, little did we know the delays were far from over.

 

[TheRealTMA]

Immigration delay

When travelling with Miss H, we generally have one parent in front and another behind her when passing through any sort of checkpoint.

The idea being that if something goes wrong, Miss H still has at least one parent to assist.

As it turned out, I was in front for outbound Immigration in Sydney.

I swiped my passport, looked at the bright light and proceeded through.

However, when Miss H stepped up, her passport failed.

A red light started flashing and men with disproportionately large biceps edged closer.

Mrs H began to glare at me with the “why is it always me” look.

Having already cleared Immigration I was powerless to help.

There was only one thing I could do:

View attachment 348401

Charge on ahead.

Book in for a massage.

And relax my way into the holiday.

But I’m not that foolish!

Instead, I twiddled my thumbs while Immigration officials scratched their heads.

In about ten minutes we were on our way.

But it was clear that delays had become a trend.

As we made our way to the First Class lounge, little did we know the delays were far from over.

Life can throw up challenges sometimes.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Go To Gate

I’d been keenly awaiting breakfast – so much so that I ate it before remembering photos for this trip report.

As we relaxed watching the morning activity across Sydney airport, the clatter of the old departure boards alerted us to another delay.

This was a good one.

It enabled us to sneak in an early lunch.

As the clock struck 11:00, our friendly waiter delivered the obligatory Salt & Pepper Squid.



My initial fears of a chilli shortage were unfounded – they were just buried.



I also ordered one of the winter specials – the mussels.

I’d heard good things from other AFFers but for me, the flavours were poorly balanced.

The dish was bitter and vinegary.



At the bar, staff had prepared not one, but three decanters.

Though it was still late morning, it would have been rude not to try the lot.







The No.2 was the winner, just ahead of the Underhill.

The Vasse Felix was also very smooth, but I suspect it will be better in a few years.

Miss H rounded out lunch with the Pavlova a la Trump.



As she took her first bite the departure board click over.

Go to gate.

Readers of my previous trip reports will know I consider this to be a bit like the last drinks call in a bar.

No hurry.

Just when you’re ready.

On the other hand, Mrs H treats go to gate more like an evacuation order.

She launched from her seat and skulled the last of the champagne as though she was trying to win some sort of drinking contest.

Flinging her backpack over her shoulder Mrs H headed for the exit so fast it looked like she was trying to qualify for the Olympic walk.

Miss H and I looked at each other for a few seconds.

We’d seen it all before.

Miss H shrugged and continued eating.

I took another sip of red.

When Miss H finished her pavlova, she pointed to the document wallet sitting on the table and asked, “do you reckon mummy will want her passport and boarding pass?”

We both smiled, stood up and casually headed for the gate.

 

[RooFlyer]

I'm so enjoying this (not necessarily the dramas ...)

 

[Scarlett]

Love it Captain.

Have you been moonlighting as eightballblack over on FT in the past? Actually, can’t be, you’ve been far too nice about your family in this thread.

Which castle in Ireland, unless that’s stealing thunder from later in the report?

 

[Captain Halliday]

Love it Captain.

Have you been moonlighting as eightballblack over on FT in the past? Actually, can’t be, you’ve been far too nice about your family in this thread.

Which castle in Ireland, unless that’s stealing thunder from later in the report?

Patience Scarlett.

You can’t skip to chapter 35 just yet.

We’ve got Netherlands, Belgium, France and Switzerland to go yet.

 

[Pushka]

(not necessarily the dramas ...)

Oh. I'm enjoying those too!

 

[ellen10]

I am enjoying your trip report and it has just started!
Looking forward to the next segment.

 

[Captain Halliday]

Sydney to Manila
Departing off Sydney’s RWY36L, my seat 2K offered nice views over the city and harbour.



Despite the late departure, the flight to Manila was uneventful.

Service was professional, but routine and impersonal.

Lunch was served about an hour after departure with the following options:





I opted for the starter of prawns.

Served cold, these were fresh and tasty.



Followed by the beef fillet which was either overcooked, re-heated for too long, or both.



I accompanied this with a glass of Australian Syrah which the flight attendant repeatedly called “Syria”.

I failed to take note of which Syrah it was – mostly because it wasn’t notable, especially after the Yarra Yering in the lounge.

For dessert I requested the ice cream sandwich.

It was elegantly presented as you’d expect in business class - handed to me still in its wrapper.

This turned out to be a good thing because once I realised it contained nuts, I was able to swap for the seasonal fruit.

Anticipating strawberries and blueberries still in a plastic punnet, I was pleased to find the fruit already unwrapped and served on a plate.

A second meal service was offered prior to arrival, and I opted for the spicy chicken and noodles.

Thankfully there was plenty of chilli because that was the only flavour it had.

We’d made up a little time in flight, but approaching Manila we were slowed by ATC due to storms in the area.



We touched down a bit over an hour late with plenty of water still about.



Our day began with a whole lot of waiting, and nothing was changing in Manila.

 

[RooFlyer]

Ice cream with nuts is not unknown, but was there any 'food allergy' notice anywhere, that you can recall?

 

[kookaburra75]

I'm so enjoying this (not necessarily the dramas ...)

It's called, "Schadenfreude"

 

[Captain Halliday]

Ice cream with nuts is not unknown, but was there any 'food allergy' notice anywhere, that you can recall?

Not on the menu as you can see from my earlier post.

But it was very clear on the packet that it was a hazelnut (IIRC) biscuit.

Perhaps this is actually why it's just handed out in its packet.

 

[Pushka]

I think this has become one of my favourite reads. Sorry Cap'n.