Round the World in 17 Days

So, I left you, dear reader, in mid-air over New Mexico some weeks ago.

Despite the dearth of messages along the lines of “are you OK?”, or “did the plane go down in a ball of flame?” I have decided to update you…

I suppose that being clever people you assumed I had made it out of the last flying cigar in one piece as a) I as yet cannot post this stuff on-line in mid flight, and b) due to the lack of headlines along the theme of “another burning jet smashes into the ground at a zillion miles per hour”.

Anyway… I made it to San Francisco, and went to check in for my Qantas flight to Sydney to find a long queue for the business class check in. Airlines now have so many different ‘classes’ and privilege levels that it becomes quite amusing to watch. In this situation, you could either choose from First Class, Business Class, Qantas Club and Economy. Now, anyone can join the Qantas club by buying a membership and you get some benefits like lounge access, priority check in etc. Therefore there was a line of club members, another (long) line of business travelers, and the board members and real frequent flyers that had been upgraded were in First. Some people who had a business ticket were skipping into the Qantas club line as it was shorter, but then this line was blocked off in order to serve the First Class passengers first. Us business types were left in the middle of all the hoopla, and it became apparent that we’d have been better off checking into Economy. Oh well – who says only the Brits have a class system?!

So, clutching my boarding pass I negotiated security having had to surrender my exploding orange juice and lipstick to the TSA staff and headed to the lounge for a sit down and a well earned G&T. Splendid.

This was only the second time I had been on a Qantas 747, and my fist time sat on the upper deck. It was weird to climb stairs on a plane, although I suppose this may become more common when the Airbus A380 comes into service next year.

The upper deck on the 747 is great. Qantas have seats that glide almost flat for sleeping, with a back massager inbuilt. There are only about 8 rows or so, so the cabin is very quiet, and the service is second to none. It’s almost like a private jet – you forget there’s a full deck with 200 people downstairs.

We took a long taxi to the end of the runway at San Francisco, and rumbled off down the 2 mile strip of tarmac gradually gathering speed. It seemed a long time before we broke ground – to the right were San Francisco and the Golden Gate, ahead was over 7,600 miles of Pacific Ocean. Sydney was 14 hours away.

After trying out the wine selection, and a good feed, I settled back to play with the chair controls and the TV and Movie selections. This kept me happy for a couple of hours, before drifting off to sleep – the cabin lights gradually changed colour from white, to yellow, reds and then a dark purple simulating night (which didn’t really need simulating as it was past midnight!)

I slept for a good 8 hours, and breakfast was brought round 2 hours out of Sydney. Fresh fruits and juices were welcome after the dehydrated air of high altitude.

Unfortunately the schedule permitted no more than 2 hours in Sydney, and that was spent at the airport. We had good views on arrival and departure, and as I have taken to carrying a change of clothes in my hand luggage on long haul flights I was able to have a shower in the lounge and felt vaguely civilized on the next and final hop of the trip to Perth, 5 hours away.

Landing in Perth is not that interesting – you have been flying over the Great Australian Bight before crossing the South West coast of Western Australia, but after that there is just much farmland to look at. However, once out of the airport you realize that the city has built their terminal in the middle of a park! There are a couple of drop off / pick up lanes, but then just trees and parkland.

Connecting Perth airport to the city centre by train or even an expressway would seem to be a good idea, but the Aussies are too busy surfing for that, so instead you climb into a Swan Taxi, named after the Swan River which flows through Perth on the way to the Indian Ocean. This then feels like England immediately – same provincial feel, regular car as a taxi (no yellow or black cabs!) and a driver who is sometimes talkative, but more often than not prefers listening to the Football on the radio. It’s only 30 minutes downtown, and I climbed out and checked in to Rydges, my home for a couple of weeks.

Work in Perth is good – nice to have a change of scene, walk around a city instead of drive, drink good beer, and have a great view from the top floors of St Georges Place – this time I was on Level 43. Also good to talk with new people about my project, and discover new ideas, thoughts or issues rather than getting buried with the humdrum. Very enjoyable in fact!

I caught up with friends living locally, headed over for dinner, and generally outstayed my welcome… Thanks folks!! A highlight was the trip out into the Indian Ocean on the Saturday for a deep sea fishing trip. This was pretty cool – never done that before (not really done much fishing of any sort in fact) but enjoyed it immensely! It meant an early (~6am start) on Saturday, following a particularly heavy night out on the Friday, but nevertheless my swaying neatly counteracted that of the boat and I found my sea legs pretty quickly.

We caught a whole bunch of weird and wonderful stuff, which was speedily brought on board by the ‘deckies’ for measuring to see if it was above fisheries length limits. Small stuff got thrown back in, the big ones were put on ice.

We caught two pink snapper, some bream, a cool orange fish charmingly called ‘black arse cod’, some sweep and the highlight (caught by yours truly!) a Jewfish. All this came from up to 80 metre deep seas, so you can appreciate it was a fairly tiring day, lowering and reeling in.

So, back onshore at 3pm, it was time to get the beers in and light up the BBQ.

So… two weeks flew by, and I was soon on board another Qantas flight, this time to Hong Kong where I had a fair layover until my British Airways flight to London Heathrow. I didn’t quite have time in the layover to get into Hong Kong itself, but got some cool views during the approach to landing coming in over Hong Kong island with great views of Kowloon. I’d never really thought about visiting the place before, but I will try and stay over for a couple of days next time I travel that way – a feeling reinforced after reading a book I bought at the airport called Gweilo by Martin Booth. Its an autobiography focused around his time in Hong Kong as a kid in the 50’s, and is really interesting to hear about the last vestiges of the British Empire.

So, some food (not bad), some wine (a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, swiftly rejected as overrated, and replaced with a nice Australian Shiraz) and I was asleep, but not before watching us on the moving map depart Hong Kong, fly first west, then turning north to pass the eastern edge of the Himalayas. I woke 8 hours later passing north of Amsterdam – our route had taken us arching up north of Moscow and St Petersburg and along the coastline of Northern Europe.

We descended under a clear sky to a 4:30am London, which was spectacular to look at from my window seat – talk about a bedroom with a view! We came over Canary Wharf, and had great views of the Thames, the bridges, the London Eye, Parliament, St Pauls, Buck House, all stunningly lit with pinprick lights – amazing…

We runway at Heathrow came up to touch our wheels as we throttled back, and once again I was back in the UK. It’s always a nice feeling, and does feel like home!

Bags were retrieved, and I headed to the arrivals lounge where I had a shower and another breakfast and cappuccino. Tom (brother next one down) had foolishly, but kindly, offered to pick me up from the Airport (yes, he was drink at the time, and got quite a surprise I think when I phoned him to cash in on the deal whilst in Hong Kong!) To offset the 5am and deeply uncivilized hour, I read the paper and generally lazed about until 7am pickup time came about. Definitely owe you a beer for that mate J.

So – weekend passed in a blur. My hotel reservation had been cancelled, apparently by me the day before. I did point out that as I had been traveling for the best part of 22 hours that was indeed impossible. All was well in the end – I got a room. The entire Clayton clan assembled in London, as always it was good to meet up, drink wine and do some touristy things. We even went to the summer opening of the State Rooms as Buckingham Palace, which contrary to my initial expectations was excellent. It’s a stunning building inside, and really well presented. Nice to be allowed in, although I imagine I will be invited back for a garden party at some point… It’s only a matter of time… J

More friends in London than I could see this time – thanks Alrik – enjoyed the Sunday night party a lot. Merci Beaucoup!

Monday – off to Gatwick for the final 5000 miles to Houston. Check in and security was slower than usual, but only to be expected with the nutters about nowadays. However, I had some time for a read of the paper before boarding the BA2027 that I have got to know pretty well now! Food, wine, sleep, afternoon tea, Houston!

Back home. 27,000 miles. Time for an unpack and sleep before an 8am meeting the following day. Fun!


So, it’s now 10 days on, and I find myself on another plane – at this moment bouncing merrily through the clouds on the approach to Salt Lake City. I’m en route to a meeting in Bozeman, Montana, which if this much smaller flying cigar gets on the ground in one piece I should reach by 11pm tonight.

If you’re reading this on my website, then it did. If you’re reading this from a recovered melted laptop hard disk, then it didn’t.

This plane’s too small to make the papers…

Keep smiling!


Sam

posted by Sam @ 20:03