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| The Emirates lounge in Sydney: tastefully appointed and well-stocked with food and drink |
We left home at 14:01 which was one minute after the scheduled
departure. I would like to say that I was the one who delayed us but I cannot.
The G had been on a tight schedule all morning and she tells me that the only
thing she failed to do was mop the floor. I had to pause awhile to process this
piece of information. I looked at it every way I could but I could not see this
as a failure in anyway at all. My schedule consisted of a final bash on the piano and disconnected the TVR's battery. Both these tasks were completed on time and to budget.
Robbo has been briefed on care-taking duties: he is a fine fellow and will discharge his duties splendidly. Of course the raspberries are coming and he has been instructed how to freeze these
The drive to Sydney was uneventful. We remarked that to
the best of our joint recollection we have never done the drive from home to
Sydney without there being rain. The weather did not disappoint this time
though there was not much precipitation. We parked at Car Park 7 at the International
Terminal. The G had organised this: it’s only a couple of hundred bucks for the
three weeks we are away and, even with petrol and so on to go up and back, it’s
cheaper than the flight from the Moruya Intergalactic Space Station. And anyway
as I discovered last time Rex Airlines doesn’t guarantee that any bag over 15kg
will travel with you.
The G’s bag was packed to the gunwhales – so full that it
would not properly balance on its wheels, wanting to topple over but in fact
remaining in astable equilibrium. I was feeling pretty good about my bag and
its weight as I could have fitted tons more stuff in it. I was stunned when
my bag weighed in at 19kg and The G’s at 18.9kg. I cannot think how this could
be.
I will weary you no longer, gentle reader, with this drivel.
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