It was another dull flight (the best kind) from Tokyo to Sydney punctuated with a couple of episodes of Game of Thrones (I’ve almost caught up). The only exciting thing was the incredibly vanishing Japanese man in the seat across the aisle from me.
He was one half of a couple, possibly in their late 50s, who I think may have been flying for the first time. In any case, they were getting a lot of attention from the stewardesses. At one point when I was trying to sleep, I looked across and he’d gone. I thought that maybe he was in the loo but he didn’t return. All night.
His wife (I assume) was curled up in the seat and appeared to remain fast asleep for the entire flight. On the other hand, I didn’t get any sleep at all apart from fitful short moments of closed eyes. This is completely opposed to the rest of the passengers who seemed to be comatose.
Then, when the lights came up at about 7:30am (Sydney time) the man had returned. It was very strange and something I will never know the answer to.
Meanwhile in Business Class, Mirinda had a rather odd selection of leftover dishes for breakfast which she told me later had no place in Business Class. Though she did manage to get some sleep, she wasn’t very impressed.
As we flew across Sydney towards Kingsford Smith, we had a lovely view of the Heads and the city from the port side of the cabin. I had a view across the Japanese couple but, even so, the Opera House, the Bridge and the Harbour all looked brilliant…as always. Though the weather was a bit grim. Bob told us on the way back from the airport that it hasn’t stopped raining for ages so I’m surprised it held off for us.
After the eventual discovery of the car (it seems to have gone and changed its parking location without telling anyone) and how to get out of the airport – it has changed considerably since Bob last drove there – we took the crazy route to Dural because Mirinda didn’t want to go through the Harbour Tunnel. This accidentally meant driving through Sydney at lunchtime.
Fortunately, being school holidays, the streets were pretty clear though Bob reckoned it was crowded. Mirinda said that compared to London, it was deserted. Apart from any of that, I rather enjoyed driving through a familiar part of the city that hasn’t changed (much) since I worked there and used to walk up to the MLC Centre from the bus stop in Hunter Street.
We noted the almost impossible to drive on George Street which is being dug up in order to re-install tram lines after they dug them up so long ago. I’m sure Karen will fill me in on the mayhem when I see her.
Eventually (and it was a long eventually) we pulled into the drive at Dural and headed for the kitchen for tea and coffee.
After doing a shop at Glenorie, Mirinda claimed she was going to have a mid-afternoon snooze but after a shower, decided she didn’t need one. I decided to have a mid-afternoon snooze and it did wonders for me.
For dinner, Bob treated us to a delicious meal down at the Dural Country Club (I had the Barramundi – delicious) before heading home for bed.