Three Hours

The last meeting we had was in central Sydney and I had originally intended to get the five o’clock flight, but many people had frowned when they saw ths wildly ambitious plan outlined on my travel application.

‘You will never make it to the airport on time,’ they advised.

‘Are you sure? I said, ‘I just googled it and it says it is 19 minutes’ drive.’

‘Yes,’ the people who are wiser than me said, ‘but this will be a Friday in Sydney on St Patrick’s day. It is going to take hours.’

I did not want to believe them, but I knew the journey involved a tunnel and we all know what happens if there is an accident around a tunnel. At this time I did not yet realize how amazing I would be at Sydney trains, so I gave in and booked the 7pm flight.

I got to the airport at 3.30pm.

‘Go to the Virgin desk,’ said my erstwhile counsellors, ‘see if they can get you on an earlier flight.’

‘Sod off,’ I said.

So here I was at Sydney airport with three hours to kill before my flight boarded, but if I thought I was going to be able to fill my time writing blog posts, I was wrong. There was just was too much to do.

First up, Virgin has loads of benches with powerpoints set up so you can recharge your phone. This I did – partially anyway, while speaking to my mother to see how my parents were – BOOM forty minutes done. Next up I wandered around and found a massage chair and got my back pummeled while phoning the office for a quick update on the gossip – that chewed through another forty five minutes. I was on a roll.

My next task was to go in search of food. Virgin’s website had kind of implied that they did not care for vegetarians much and so I thought I should eat before the flight. I must be getting old. Gone are the days when I could have easily filled three hours at one of the bars. I settled down and enjoyed a cheese sandwich and a vanilla milkshake.

I also had to change from my business gear into jeans and sneakers an re pack my case. Then my brother’s partner came on and messaged me with some pics of my nephew to wish me a safe trip – all this while I was wandering the shops looking for suitable gifts for my husband and the dogs. I was being kept pretty busy.

Finally, I wandered up to the gate where I was going to board to  rejuice all my devices at the power bench and to my horror saw a bunch of people coming out of the doors which could only mean one thing: that my plane had only just arrived and was sitting, tyres smoking while they refuelled it before shoving us aboard. Personally, I have always allowed myself the illusion that the plane I am travelling on has been freshly unwrapped before I board it and will be put in for a service straight after my flight. I do not like the idea of travelling on a tired plane.

The plane we boarded half an hour late (flights were being delayed and cancelled because of the weather) was not only tired, but shitty as well. There were no TV screens, so thank god I had re powered all my devices because it allowed me to watch Deadpool and Bridesmaids all the way home. Those two movies pretty much took the entire journey as the pilots sped up a bit to make up the time. The flight was a bit bouncy but the only time we touched the ground was on arrival (and pretty much on time) at Perth airport.

Three and a half hours at the airport and four and a half hours on a plane later and I was home – oh and there was a veggie option on the menu so I ate that too. You are welcome.


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