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I'm home! I'm actually home, and not in an airport or a plane or anywhere equally revolting. Sigh. I left Sydney in excess of thirty-eight hours ago. I can't believe I'm stil alive, let alone awake and typing. I may well delete this in the morning as the outpourings of a feverishly detatched mind.
Anyway, yes - thirteen hours flying from Sydney to Hong Kong, a brief transit through the airport, less than half an hour then back into the same plane, refuelled, nine more hours flying time, crash bang wallop London Heathrow. Which was a shambles. I ambled in, went through Customs with disgusting ease, and happened to glance at a departure board. The 9.55 to Manchester, it informed me serenely, was cancelled.
Not delayed. Not sadly diverted because of leaves on the runway. Cancelled. But, there was hope. It was still only eight am, and there was another flight. We ran for it. In the gate, I had to present my boarding pass in the hope of having it switched for a new one. The woman looked down her nose at me and asked, "Where were you flying from?"
"Sydney," I said. And when she looked blank: "In Australia."
"Do you have baggage?"
No, I flew halfway round the world in what I'm standing up in. "Yes."
"Then you can't board this flight. Sorry." She wasn't sorry. She put me on a flight two hours later. Which, as such things do, drove me to despair along the lines of I've flown twenty-five thousand miles and I haven't slept in two days and there's a nine-hour time difference and I probably smell and please just let me go home...
Nothing doing, of course. And the flight, two hours later, was delayed by a further forty-five minutes. Once boarded, it was stuck in a queue of ten aircraft and delayed a further hour. It's very hard to be sleepy and furious at the same time, so I gave up and was just sleep.
And so, I was just about dead when I got here, but I'm here. I have skimmed my flist, sort of, have read the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
colleen_show friends page and new_who, but that's it. If something important has happened, please comment and tell me.
[So far, fandomwise, I have learned that the Tenth Doctor looks shockingly like Remus Lupin. Other than that, I am yours to be enlightened.]
My last days in Darwin and all my time in Sydney were lovely, by the way, and certainly worth writing about; but that comes later. Sleepytime now. Good to be back.
Anyway, yes - thirteen hours flying from Sydney to Hong Kong, a brief transit through the airport, less than half an hour then back into the same plane, refuelled, nine more hours flying time, crash bang wallop London Heathrow. Which was a shambles. I ambled in, went through Customs with disgusting ease, and happened to glance at a departure board. The 9.55 to Manchester, it informed me serenely, was cancelled.
Not delayed. Not sadly diverted because of leaves on the runway. Cancelled. But, there was hope. It was still only eight am, and there was another flight. We ran for it. In the gate, I had to present my boarding pass in the hope of having it switched for a new one. The woman looked down her nose at me and asked, "Where were you flying from?"
"Sydney," I said. And when she looked blank: "In Australia."
"Do you have baggage?"
No, I flew halfway round the world in what I'm standing up in. "Yes."
"Then you can't board this flight. Sorry." She wasn't sorry. She put me on a flight two hours later. Which, as such things do, drove me to despair along the lines of I've flown twenty-five thousand miles and I haven't slept in two days and there's a nine-hour time difference and I probably smell and please just let me go home...
Nothing doing, of course. And the flight, two hours later, was delayed by a further forty-five minutes. Once boarded, it was stuck in a queue of ten aircraft and delayed a further hour. It's very hard to be sleepy and furious at the same time, so I gave up and was just sleep.
And so, I was just about dead when I got here, but I'm here. I have skimmed my flist, sort of, have read the
colleen_show friends page and new_who, but that's it. If something important has happened, please comment and tell me.[So far, fandomwise, I have learned that the Tenth Doctor looks shockingly like Remus Lupin. Other than that, I am yours to be enlightened.]
My last days in Darwin and all my time in Sydney were lovely, by the way, and certainly worth writing about; but that comes later. Sleepytime now. Good to be back.
