my nomadic life: the 16 hour journey...

Docklands, Melbourne
Australia
41° F (5° C)

2009.07.09 06:00 GMT+8

The inhumanly effective alarm clock is screeching. I stagger and slam my hand in the general direction of the alarm clock. For a moment, I admire my agility and coordination; I always seem to manage to lunge and kill the alarm with my eyes closed with uncanny accuracy. This, of course, is the very source of my demise; I turn them off unconsciously much too often... defeating the whole purpose of having a device designed to annoy me out of my sleep.

I sluggishly rise... gulp down a cup of water... stuff a custard cake into my mouth... wash it down with water... pop a vitamin into my mouth... and wash it down, again, with water... All of this with only one eye barely open. It's only when I hit the shower, I begin to awake. My movements pickup speed... and I pack rest of my belongings. As I walk out the door, I turn around to look once more at what had been my home for the last 17 days...

06:55 GMT+8

After painstakingly looking through 17 days worth of itemized receipts, I settle the hotel bill and step out of the hotel to catch a taxi. For some, the attendant conveniently abandons his duty and leaves his post after getting a cab for a woman who was standing behind me. After much frowning and willing for another attendant, an older attendant comes running out sensing my displeasure. The attendant loads my HEAVY luggage into the trunk of the belated taxi, I tip him though this is not necessary in Singapore; I appreciated his help.

09:36 GMT+8 (on board QF 32 to Sydney)

I am quite puzzled as to why people choose to ignore the explicit boarding instructions. I thought it was mainly old generation Asian phenomenon, but when the airport agent strictly enforced the boarding sequence, quite a few ang mohs were instructed to stand aside after attempting to board out of order. I don't understand why people are so anxious to board the plane where they will be confined in a tiny space for several hours. It's not like the seats are first come first served... and getting on board sooner won't get them to their destination any faster.

Sometime later... Somewhere over the Indian Ocean

Nothing destroys spirit like property

Mr. Austin
in Becoming Jane

I feel the urge to write it down... It's true. At one point in my life, after giving away most of my assets and frivolous spending away the rest, I had put myself on a frugal budget without any breathing room. It was suffocating... and disheartening... to be without property.

Chicken sandwich

The male flight attendant hands me a plate of food and tells me "chicken sandwich". I immediately ask for alternate meal, but he states the lack of alternative as if I should be grateful for the what I had been given. I feed on tiny bowl of fruit, a cold cookie, and chase it with extremely acidic orange juice. I'm never flying Qantas again... unless, of course, I have to.

Approximately an hour before landing

A kid is screaming/crying. Judging from experience the kid should stop crying out of exhaustion... but the kid is tenacious beyond belief. My head starts pounding... The parents are using "ignore" technique. Haven't they realized after about 20 minutes that it isn't working? Everyone is turning around or walking by to see the incredible screaming kid. I feel bad for the parents but want to yell at them at the same time. It's a good thing I have firm control over such impulses.

Approximately 18:50 GMT+10 at Sydney airport

This why I avoid stops in international flight, especially in Australia:

1. Get off the plane
2. Go through Immigration
3. Wait for and pickup the luggage... which I will have to do it again later (the kid is still screaming. At this point, I'm thinking the kid might be in pain... perhaps dengue fever?)
4. Go through customs
5. Check the luggage back in
6. Go through security one more time...
7. Wait for the transfer bus to domestic terminal
8. Ride the bus to terminal
9. Wait for boarding (which was delayed in this case)

Just a single stop adds HOURS to traveling time and adds suffering that could be avoided by flying direct.

22:45 GMT+10 at Melbourne airport

I'm not sure when the plane landed, but it took forever to get my luggage. It wasn't just me. Everyone's luggage didn't start to cruise around the baggage claim area on the conveyor belt until 20:40 or so (a good 40 minutes after scheduled arrival time). Don't airlines realize things like these put customers off their flight?

I debate between waiting 15 minutes for the SkyBus or taking the taxi. Ground transport to and from airport is reimbursed by my company... but the price difference makes me think twice about taking cab; taxi rates are quite high (compared to Singapore and Seoul) here in Melbourne. The thought of dragging my luggage from Southern Cross Station to the apartment seemed cruel... especially after a long tiring journey. I take the cab. Price? 47 AUD (approximately 40.32 USD).

23:25 GMT+10 in the apartment

I'm standing over a gutted luggage... half unpacked with stuff strewn around like a half eaten carcass after a predator had its fill. I don't think I'll unpack tonight... I stagger around the apartment like a zombie not remembering why I had gone into the bathroom... only to stagger back into the bedroom staring into the closet... trying to figure out why I'm staring at the closet.