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Great photos there. Thanks for the harrowing rideView attachment 352196
One pissed-off cabbie
I was on my feet and racing as soon as the door opened. striding mightily down the hall to baggage claim and customs. This is where the Apple AirTag comes in handy, but still, it was a while before my big yellow bag came along, even though I was quite sure by now that it and I were on the same landmass.
Mindful of my bag's dodgy wheel I snagged a trolley, even though it was pretty much down to carryon weight now that I'd offloaded a cargo of books in Waiheke.
Along with other cargo, I guess.
Truth to tell, an hour or so of good horizontal sleep had done wonders or maybe it was the Berocca and although the remaining tablets in the tube were now tucked away in the emergency medical supplies section of my carry-on, if I never see one again it will be too soon.
The transfer bus area - even further now, with a bit of a jog outside - was empty apart from one or two even speedier passengers from the same flight. With boarding time for my onward flight about fifteen minutes away, the counter lady made a face and said, "We'll get you on a plane tomorrow; is that okay?"
As if I had a choice.
I opted for the dawn flight. So long as I was in Canberra before about 0830 I'd be okay.
She issued me a boarding pass and pointed me in the direction of a chap who was efficiently issuing accommodation vouchers.
I got a sheet of paper for the Novotel that included thirty bucks for non-alcoholic incidentals and sent to wait outside.
No bus for the Novotel arrived and the crowd of anxious passengers grew thicker and grumblier. I've heard horror tales of emergency overnight stays before that work out to a couple of hours before you have to get up again to catch the early flight and I was in no mood to wait much longer.
In hindsight, I should have walked across the road to Rydges and summoned an Uber but I figured I could use a taxi about now and headed off for the rank.
The dispatcher pointed me at the next available, a big maxi-taxi with handicap facilities and my heart sank. I've been a cabbie and I know what it means to wait in the cabyard and then get a shortie.
"Where to?" the cabbie asked when I rolled my bags up.
"I just need a cab," I replied, knowing exactly what he was up to and knowing the law as well as he did.
Oh boy, did he whinge when I told him the Novotel, just a couple of minutes away. Can't blame him, and felt sorry for his hour-long wait for a fifteen-dollar fare - fifteen bucks for a couple of minutes? Geez - but when I'd been a cabbie I figured every passenger had exactly the same need for transport and if the next fare was to take a lady with a walking stick around the corner, then that was what she needed and it was just the roll of the die. I did okay out of airport jobs all things considered.
He grumbled the whole time and when I asked him to add a fifteen-dollar tip, telling him I'd been a cabbie myself, he lightened up a little.
Not a lot, mind, but my aim as a cabbie was always to end a trip with everyone smiling and I think we were pretty much equal in our joy levels at that point, so …
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They gave me a room with a couple of skinny wooden keys. Never seen anything like that before but I suppose it's part of the push to drop plastics from 95% of our consumables down to oh, about 90%.
The restaurant was still open and I could have maybe had a thirty dollar snack. My hunger level was zero. I'd be leaving before breakfast, and I put my name down for the 0430 shuttle deciding that I could grab something in the lounge. So, unless there was something great in the barfridge, that was thirty bucks that Qantas cpould put towards their next CEO bonus.
I probably set a record for getting into bed and falling asleep. I also set three alarms - watch, phone, and iPad - and brushed my teeth. It had been a long day.
I didn't even bother to take a few shots of the room. Novotel. Cookie cutter. We all know the deal.
Up and about at 0400, switching off alarms, having a shave, throw everything back into bags, make sure I hadn't left anything charging.
Barfridge was empty apart from a couple of bottles of water and what was the point? They'd take them off me in security and I'd have to spend five minutes dealing with the paperwork downstairs.
The nine-seater shuttle was already loading and there were twelve passengers. Seeing as we'd had to put our names down the night before, I suspected either the shuttle operator had screwed up or a few passengers were taking an earlier shuttle than they had signed up for.
"Five minutes!" the driver said, after speaking on his phone and I openly scoffed. I figured we three castaways would be first in line on the 0500 shuttle and there would be a domino effect throughout the day.
It was ten minutes but a shuttle arrived, taking us directly to the Domestic Terminal. Seeing as how the earlier vehicle would have stopped at the International Terminal first, hey maybe we had scored.
Monday 17 October 2023
Flight 2318
QF1501 SYD - CBR
VH-NXO B712
Scheduled: 0605
Boarding: 0545 Seat 6A
Pushback: 0602
Takeoff: 0618 3rd Runway to N
Landing: 0652 from S
Gate: 0658
I got poor advice twice over in printing a bag tag when I already had a boarding pass. Maybe these guys weren't game-ready. Anyway, this delayed me a quarter hour or so while I worked through the options. Security - for the first time in four flights - made me take off my belt. It was a plastic belt, I pointed out but no, the guy pointed to a sign. All belts to be taken off. That makes it okay, I guess.
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From the lounge, when I settled with a much-needed coffee and a slightly more respectable toastie than my last effort, I was thrilled to see Retro Roo immediately below me. This aircraft and its sibling Retro Roo II, are painted in former Qantas liveries and are imbued with a certain magic bestowing grace and joy to all passengers and crew.
Sadly, I wasn't flying on this transport of delight but on a Boeing 712 which turned out to be a one-class affair: two seats port, three starboard, all the way along.
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A long taxi out to the far end of the third runway and some great views over Sydney as we banked and turned out over the ocean before aiming at Canberra.
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Hard to get sick of these views. Sydney has a dramatic location and it's always fun to hang out of the window. The only place that comes close, in my experience, is San Francisco.
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The snack was banana bread washed down with apple juice. Good comfort food for a guy with a recovering stomach.
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A shot of the sun rising before we headed inland, passed over bush and farmland, and plonked down into Fairbairn.
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Grab my bag from the belt, call an Uber, and in a few minutes I was home sweet home. Just in time to get in my car and collect the two infant grandkids. Mondays are our days to be full-time grandparents and we get no rest with one running and one crawling, often in different directions.
Thanks for reading. Not much of a disaster, really, compared to some of the horrific trip reports I've read, but I enjoyed writing it up. Qantas may not be quite so passenger-focused as it once was, but it's still pretty good at the front of the plane.
[Late News: my QFF Gold card arrived today. Woot! My fingernails and toenails are now painted in shades of glitter pink by a three-year-old who is not yet at the peak of her game in the nailpolish business but has a willing subject to help her refine her technique. There may also be some whiteboard marker - purple - on some of the nails. Hah, you don't get that service at the professional salons!]
Thanks for the kind words!With your TR talents, you should be writing the books not just sharing them!
I’m glad it was only a mini-disaster in the end but I bet it felt horrible to you. My nearest experience to it was travelling with foul morning sickness when pregnant 36 years ago, but in whY. I still remember how bad I felt so I’m sure it will stay with you.
Look forward to your next TR.
Exactly. What an extraordinarily selfish self-centred person the OP encountered.Unfortunately my first reaction when you mentioned your seat was occupied by a pregnant person was - how many times will you be getting up and down to allow them to do the toilet breaks. Surely the aisle seat would have been more appropriate and more convenient. Maybe its just me as I hate having to disturb the neighbour if I am in the window seat.
Oh, I dunno. I've occasionally found myself accidentally in the wrong seat and had the "owner" not say a word. I figured I was just paying it forward. I'm sure she would have moved if I'd asked and it wasn't as if the view out was going to be captivating.Exactly. What an extraordinarily selfish self-centred person the OP encountered.
and young mothers - deserve a bit of help and understanding.