And so it begins. I arrived at Sydney’s Temple of Gloom about fifteen hours before my flight. This might seem like a bit of overkill even in this not quite post-Covid era but I had my reasons. Specifically I had booked myself into a convenient hotel so that I could sleep in on the day of my departure (I woke up early) and so when I forgot something I would have time to go back and get it. As it so happened I forgot nothing (well nothing I’ve noticed so far). After a brief reconnaissance mission I settled down in the aforementioned convenient hotel to wait for morning.
When I say “convenient” I mean if I opened a window I would have been able to pat the planes as they came in to land. I ate an overpriced hamburger and then at the hotel’s less than discreet urging I headed up to the rooftop bar to enjoy a drink and look at aeroplanes. It’s amazing how grown up an essentially childish pursuit can seem if you just add alcohol. Next up play-doh and vodka shots.
I didn’t actually order alcohol, I wanted coffee. The harassed peon behind the bar informed me my coffee would take twenty minutes as he was all alone with a batch of cocktails to make.
By the time my coffee arrived I had quite got over the view and was chatting to (and possibly up) a Fijian guy named Jade who was waiting for the airline that employed him to fly him home. He had spent the last three days working in Orange. His opinion of Australia?
“Cold”
One day I will book a flight that leaves from a gate convenient to the security screening. Today was not that day. Instead having subjected myself and my possessions to electronic violation (the second best kind of violation) I then set out on the long gruelling journey to the departure gate. Desperate families begged for food as I passed and jackals slunk away from the bodies of those who hadn’t made it. The only thing preventing me from committing my body to God is a lingering suspicion as to what he might do with it. I have definitely got to find a better class of deity to worship. Actually my god is fine, just sacrifice when you’ve got a moment (and a victim) and don’t worry about any tedious moral strictures. It’s just if you commit your body to him you’d better be sure you’ve finished using it.
After a long and arduous journey I made it to the departure gate and rested in preparation for the long and arduous journey to San Francisco which in turn would only be a prelude to the long and arduous journey to London. Once in London I can see about getting to Morocco. Seriously we have got to move Australia closer to the rest of the world.
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