Day 1, Part 1 - MEL-SYD-LAX
The late Douglas Adams once wrote that no language has ever come up with the simile "as pretty as an airport". Had he been encouraged to continue on the theme of air travel, he could very easily have pointed out that "as pleasant as a long-haul flight" is also conspicuous by its absence.
Having said that, this one wasn't too bad. There were a few hairy moments though - the first being when we were informed by the flight crew that the airline's Sydney to San Francisco service had been cancelled, and the passengers from the flight would be joining ours to Los Angeles.
Thanks to the products of our information age, airlines are able to do wonderful things like determine whether two half-empty long-haul flights can easily be replaced at the last minute with a single long-haul flight and a short hop to San Francisco at the other end. Personally, I feel priveleged and awed to live in such an age; and only a little bit of that wears off when my half-empty plane with lots of room to stretch out magically fills up.
Besides, we were in the queue for the check in counter at Melbourne before it opened, and had thus managed to wheedle Exit Row seats all the way to Los Angeles. So our legroom and space needs were well attended to.
The second scare came when our flight was called in the transit area in Sydney, and a group of young men in matching football team polo shirts started drifting towards our gate. I had been assuming that they had been off to Bali for their end of season trip, but I guess they must have won a Grand Final or something because they were off to the USA. The prospect of 13 hours in a confined space with an Australian football team loomed, and grew even loomier when a large quantity of them settled into the cabin in the rows just ahead of our seats.
But our worries were in vain, as they seemed to behave themselves. Which is not to say that there were no attempts on Boonie's record as the flight wore on; but if there were, they were mounted with quiet professionalism.
So after an uneventful flight, with the biggest annoyance (to me) being Kerry discussing the iterations of A(ustrali|meric)an Idol and the pros and cons of the various winners with the flight attendant seated in the jump seat as we came in to land in LAX. This annoyed me because quite frankly the show is a waste of time that I wouldn't be caught dead watching; and also because it was obvious that the Italian kid should have won...
And about the time I thought that, the wheels hit the ground, the engines went into full reverse, Chewie locked in the auxiliary power, and we were officially on the soil of the United States of America.
Having said that, this one wasn't too bad. There were a few hairy moments though - the first being when we were informed by the flight crew that the airline's Sydney to San Francisco service had been cancelled, and the passengers from the flight would be joining ours to Los Angeles.
Thanks to the products of our information age, airlines are able to do wonderful things like determine whether two half-empty long-haul flights can easily be replaced at the last minute with a single long-haul flight and a short hop to San Francisco at the other end. Personally, I feel priveleged and awed to live in such an age; and only a little bit of that wears off when my half-empty plane with lots of room to stretch out magically fills up.
Besides, we were in the queue for the check in counter at Melbourne before it opened, and had thus managed to wheedle Exit Row seats all the way to Los Angeles. So our legroom and space needs were well attended to.
The second scare came when our flight was called in the transit area in Sydney, and a group of young men in matching football team polo shirts started drifting towards our gate. I had been assuming that they had been off to Bali for their end of season trip, but I guess they must have won a Grand Final or something because they were off to the USA. The prospect of 13 hours in a confined space with an Australian football team loomed, and grew even loomier when a large quantity of them settled into the cabin in the rows just ahead of our seats.
But our worries were in vain, as they seemed to behave themselves. Which is not to say that there were no attempts on Boonie's record as the flight wore on; but if there were, they were mounted with quiet professionalism.
So after an uneventful flight, with the biggest annoyance (to me) being Kerry discussing the iterations of A(ustrali|meric)an Idol and the pros and cons of the various winners with the flight attendant seated in the jump seat as we came in to land in LAX. This annoyed me because quite frankly the show is a waste of time that I wouldn't be caught dead watching; and also because it was obvious that the Italian kid should have won...
And about the time I thought that, the wheels hit the ground, the engines went into full reverse, Chewie locked in the auxiliary power, and we were officially on the soil of the United States of America.
posted by JJ Glamma at
11:39 PM
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