Been back for a week now and have just about got over the trip. I always think it's weird to need a holiday to get over your holiday but that's what its felt like for the last week.
After the excitement of trying to get to Heathrow the flight was pretty much uneventful, which is the way I like them to be honest, just the usual boredom, food and movies. I couldn't tell you what I watched though, I think it had Matt Damon in it and the grey haired guy from Mad Men, which is pretty much my usual movie experience on long flights. You watch them but have absolutely no recollection of what they are. Does anyone else find that? I can't even blame the medication as I forgot to take them with me on the return flight. Maybe its just the tiny screen and jetlag that makes airline movies so unforgettable. Or maybe the champagne and Singapore Slings; who knows. Singapore Airport was completely deserted again when I got there, so quiet it's just bizarre, after 13hours on the 'plane you arrive to silence and wonder if something very apocalyptic has happened while you were over the bay of Bengal. It never has of course, it's just another normal day in my favourite, cleanest, politest and least threatening totalitarian state.
I did however set some sort of record for arrival at Perth "International". The plane landed at 11:30 pm and I was in the taxi at 11:48 pm! I can't quite believe it and I was there. Straight off the plane, through the magic self serve immigration gate, told by the quarantine lady that my tea bags are ok to bring in, bag third on the conveyor and sent straight out the door by the customs man. I was expecting the usual hour at least but this was amazing. The most amazing thing was the fact that there were actually taxis at the taxi stand. This, as you may know, is unheard of at Perth Airport at midnight. The driver didn't actually know how to get to Mt Lawley but you can't have everything I suppose. Why do taxi drivers here never know the way and why do they not listen when you tell then how to get somewhere? This guy asked so I said go over the secret bridge (well I said 7th avenue bridge, but that's much less exciting) and along Railway Parade. So we go over 7th Av bridge and along Carrington then back down Central the wrong way then right on Railway Parade and then up Fourth then along Beaufort then back down Third. That's not quite what I said but I suppose he has to earn a living ($35 for a 15 min trip, not a bad hourly rate).
I've been back at work for three days now and it's like I've never been away. The same issues, the same whinges and the same ridiculous children's names...two lots of Coco today. In the same school. No matter how "alternative" you think you are naming your kid there will always be someone with the same idea. It's why I believe people should just stick to normal, traditional names. At least your poor kid can end up one of many Patricks instead of one of may Tequishaes.
Final food photos attached, I was offered many more courses but just tried to sleep instead as there is only so many omelettes and sausages you can have on one airline.
Dinner
Smoked Salmon and Mozzarella Salad
Seared tournedos of beef in green peppercorn jus (what happened to 'gravy'?)
Banoffee pie
Singapore sling, my new favourite aeroplane beverage
Breakfast
Sliced fresh fruit
Spinach quiche with grilled tomatos and beef sausage
There was bread, pastries and tea and coffee too but I assume everyone knows what they look like.
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