Going Around the World, the other way, August 2001. Part 1. In Australia. Going to Darwin. Just don’t even think about it …

I am back flying around upside down, cos I’m in Australia. I arrived into sunny Sydney yesterday morning, doing the long haul 10,000 miles from JFK in one long bit of flying, with just a change of plane in San Francisco. The gods were with me there, as the B747 was very full, so they upgraded me to Business, which was a life saver. Flying west at night still means hours and hours and hours of darkness, so plenty of time for a drug induced coma to take over and when you wake up, you are dangling 7 miles above the ocean and the world has to all intents and purposes ceased to exist.

Finally, the blush of dawn comes up over the port wingtip and ahead are the lights of SYD and a whole host of 747’s circling like predatory sharks, all cruising the air and wanting to get the first bite at landing. The airport is closed at night and does not open until 6 on the dot.  By that time, there is a long line in the air. Fortunately, this time we were amongst the winners and did not taxi in behind a line of others, so the arrival process was relatively pain free. Quick stop at the inbound duty free for a bottle of Mr Gordon’s Stomach Libation and Cure for all that may ail thee. Girl at the check-out needed my inbound flight number, which of course I knew, and hadn’t I come in on Thai ? and I said No and that would be TG992 anyway and she wasn’t even impressed that an inbound UA pax knew another carrier’s flight number into SYD – sometimes I think I should go on Mastermind and show the world !!!

Again, I am cross examined about where I have been, as the Australian Quarantine folks are still on a mission re foot and mouth disease.  My passport has a lot of stamps in it, so I am a prime candidate for breaking the rules. There is a fire in their eyes (I mean they are always keen, but now they are exceedingly hot to trot) and I feel they are all just waiting to catch THE person who has been rolling around in a field full of dead cattle and has 10lbs of raw salami in his backpack – then and only then, will they be happy. Having been behind the scenes in Cairns airport once, when fixing things for our arrival there, I saw the vastness of this operation – it employs hundreds of folks, all in Smokey Bear outfits, like the US National Park Service and probably attracts the same keen types who want to be so dressed. We are on a mission to save Oz and Mankind. It is so huge that it is self perpetuating and there are graphic posters on the walls as to what will happen to Australia Fair if so much as an errant seed or fruit gets through. Good for them.

I meet a cheerful Bangladeshi taxi driver – you never know what you will get here and they are always appreciative of someone taking an interest in their backgrounds. And in best Oz style, I sit up front with him; only naff out of towners lord it in the back. I had never really thought, I must confess, to compare Sinny with Dhaka, but now I could write a paper, so chatty was my new best mate. Full of praise for his adopted land, but still hankering after going back and be  sorting out home. I suggested he was better off staying here and the lack of tidal waves and typhoons clinched the deal. “Much raining” I am told in B’desh and I am agreeing.

Took myself off to the Sinny Opera House in the afternoon (well you have to keep going all day, or you will be a lost soul for days afterwards) and was pleased to see a packed house for a concert by the Australian Chamber Orchestra – who said they don’t have kultcha downunder? Good Bach and Mozart program and had a private sing along with the Mozart Requiem, which is always good to hear. They did well. And then to come out into the late afternoon early winter light and see the sweep of the harbor, sparking away, ferries shuttling back and forth; well, it’s worth the trip alone.

Watched the intrepid souls who pay good money to be chained together and put in convict-like overalls and then walk to the top of one of the arches of the Harbor Bridge. As far as I am concerned, this is proof that there is one born every day. I am slightly dizzy when standing on top of a chair and don’t ever ask me to climb a ladder, so taking a view from somewhere that you have to be chained to…. Ahhhhhh… it’s the stuff that nightmares are made of! Feel quite queasy just thinking about it. And I am no better going deep down, so if anyone is thinking of clubbing together for me to go take a look at the Titanic, then if it’s OK with you, I’d much rather NOT.

So next day, in the bright light of 0630, I am on my way to the airport – remembering that Ansett’s Biz Class lounge has a full range of goodies to graze upon, I denied myself the pleasure of the Regent hotel’s expensive brekkie (as we say down here) and instead went off with my Shanghai-born taxi driver, to the airport. He was not a chatterer. The AN lounge is a very comfortable place to while away time, comes complete with more food than anyone can want and an excellent view of the coming and goings of the airport, so what more do I need? I was happily ensconced, fresh toast in hand, unlimited amounts of flat white (again, I lapse into Oz-speak) and watched the aviation world at work. Very camp agent in the lounge finally manages to insert my UA number into his computer, which is a hot one (the UA bit, not the camp guy) as this flight will push me over the edge of 100,000 miles on Star Alliance this year and now they MUST take me seriously – we shall see !!! 

Eventuallee I prise myself away and board the 737 that iss taking me up to Darwin, with a stop in Alice Springs, just to remind us all that there actually IS a town in the middle of all that nowhere. Took 3 hours of much flying over nothing except red earth to arrive, so you do kinda feel sorry for the locals living there, esp. when There seen from the air looks to be exceedingly small. And it really is. Apart from the Flying Doctor service, it has little to offer in the way of excitement. I DO know, as we have, in a weaker moment, taken our plane there and I was v hard put to come up with anything of excitement to while away an afternoon. Staring at the Flying Doctor station is marginally more exciting than watching paint dry, but not a lot so.

Anyway, our stop there was slightly longer than sked. as AN decided that they would do a bit of maintenance on the plane, so we were granted an extra 45 mins of ground time. The Biz lounge there was run by a large lady, of a commanding presence shall I say. It was very much HER turf.  One hapless man, trying to access his emails and plugged himself into a phone on a desk, was immediately informed (and so were all of us, an unwilling Greek chorus to this main drama) that that tone was for local calls and every time he tried to dial out, it made HER phone ring on HER desk and this she would not have. He took refuge in the bar, or wudda, shall we say, but the glass fronted chiller containing much in the way of local beers plus wine, was LOCKED – shock horror all around. BUT it was not yet 12 noon local and that’s when the pubs open and until that time, the same rules applied here. Such is life in Alice Springs. As we were delayed over the magic moment of 12 noon, there shudda been a roll of drums.  Madame produced a ring of keys worthy of a Victorian jailor and the bar was duly opened. Being in Oz. I expected many alcohol deprived natives to descend upon it, but I think we were all too intimidated by our hostess to make a move and be branded as a lush, so it remained unsullied. And then I left anyway.

Captain Speaking welcomed us back with many cheery greetings and then kept on thanking us for our patience until they were certainly stretching my patience at being thanked for being patient. Harold Pinter wudda made a whole play about it. But after the 3 hours from Sinney to here, this was only one hour forty to the Top, as we say around here (some of these phrases may be on the test, so please pay attention) seemed but small fry. Same crew waiting for us – senior lady, of many millions of AN miles and a pair of powerful buck rabbit teeth too, demanded to see my boarding card “for security reasons ” and I felt like pointing out that I had just spent 3 hours in her company and had chatted to her at length about the world in general on a variety of subjects, including aviation, but once we had left the plane, then obviously her computer mind just blanked out and she had to start again. And then she thanked us for our patience several times, by which time I was VERY impatient about the whole thing. Being nice was def. starting to wear thin.

We were lunched – as Chinese food is the bottom of my food chain, of course they decided that they had finally run out of all the possible permutations of Ansett Rubber Chicken and now they are going CHINESE. Oh joy unconfined – come back RC, all is forgiven. We were given “Peking-in Duck “ … that’s what the little menu said.   Well, from a caterer in Alice Springs, this may be the dizzy heights of inflite cuisine, but idda setled for a nice kangaroo sarnie thank you v much. Observing my seat mates, they were all sucking it up like there was no tomorrow. And a nice little piece of Tasmanian Swiss cheese -seemed a bit of a stretch from the cantons to Hobart and I’m sure any genuine Swissperson (Thomas) wudda been choking over it. The tooth fairy waved bottles of wine at us and we bravely pointed at the one we fancied – no such luck as a look at the label or anything like that. Yer actual ‘Red or White, Mate?’   All Australian crews are exceedingly relaxed, shall we say.  

So we land in Darwin – a nice and steamy 31C, so I shed me pully before getting out. Chubby girl called Christine waiting for me at the end of the jetway (obvious doubts that I will need help in finding me bag). It had been her birthday last time I was here and I had a mini box of chox in my backpack from the Regent in Sinney (from my pillow turndown service last night), so I gave them to her and she was much overcome. We get into the office minivan thingy and the curtains on the windows are in my way, so I swish them forward and they immediately come totally disconnected and there are bits of plastic all over the floor and I am left holding a very wilting curtain – Welcome to Darwin

I am abandoned for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Hotel is in the middle of town so take a walkabout the streets to observe the locals. Nothing to get excited about, that’s for sure. The good folks who live in Darwin consider it the center of the known world, but I have always thought it close enough to be really considered as genuinely nowhere. Many cheapo travel operators advertising all sorts of trips in 4 wheel drive vehicles into the back of beyond and thus the corresponding numbers of young, gap-year persons who take these expeditions. And each office seemed to have an internet cafe attached and is filled with the young all bashing away on keyboards, hopefully keeping ma and pa advised of their whereabouts. German seems to be the predominant foreign language.   Sadly, also a lot of Aboriginals lying flat out drunk in the park.

And tonight, I am off to Irian Jaya (Vera, find Papua New Guinea and it’s the west end of the same island – I know you can find it dear, just LOOK will you?) I’ve never, ever, met anyone who has heard of that, let alone can put it on the map. PE and CS, you are not allowed to answer. And if I survive that, there will be a further episode to follow. And if someone eats me, then I hope I tasted good.