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Jun. 18th, 2007 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringHere are my instructions to the day driver for picking up a regular passenger.
1. Occasionally you will need to pick up Ms T from the airport, or collect her from her rural residence to catch a flight. You will need to know how to get to her house in the Burra hinterland, because the GPS map coverage does not extend out that far, and signposting is scanty.
2. Fill up the car. It is a long way and if you run out of gas you will be in trouble. They do not have service stations out in the Burra hinterland. Or in Burra. Queanbeyan is your last chance. Don’t let it get that desperate.
3. You may also wish to have a meal. Stock up on energy drinks. Drive out to the workshop, if you have time, and collect the fleet’s first aid kit. You may, if you are of a practical bent, check your will.
4. Park at the airport. Do not park in the sparsely-populated section marked “Limousines”, even though your gleaming car is newer, nicer, more highly polished and fresher smelling that the vehicles commonly found there. If you do, a fascist in a yellow high-visibility jacket will come and rouse at you. Instead, drive around until you find the empty car space, and whip in just ahead of whoever spotted it first.
5. Check the flight time. Sometimes the planes collect a tailwind and arrive early. In this case you will find your passenger outside, puffing on a cigarette. She is small and pretty and does not look like a senior executive. Instead she looks like a frequent flyer and you can make a bundle if you know her itinerary in advance, because Qantas share prices are tied to her travels.
6. Write her name on your board and stand with the other drivers. To a man they are middle-aged, ugly and anxious. If there more than six in a row, faint-hearted passengers will turn around and attempt to reboard the plane. If oncoming passengers are smiling, check that you are holding your board the right way up. After picking up Ms T a few times, you will recognise her and you will not need to write her name on the board. Instead, write “Piles” with an arrow pointing off to the left, and stand beside the glummest looking of the other drivers.
7. Ms T will not have any baggage. Instead she has a carry-on backpack which is surprisingly light because it is full of cigarettes.
8. Once outside the terminal, Ms T will make you stop for a quick fag. You may have to borrow a light from one of the other drivers nervously drawing in great lungfuls of tar and carcinogens. Wait patiently while she indulges in her filthy habit. If you are a smoker yourself, light up and stand in companionable silence, puffing contentedly on the fragrant smoke, invigorating your spirits and freshening your outlook on life. You will need all your strength for the journey ahead.
9. Leave the airport and turn left instead of right. Where you are going, there is no chance of a fare back.
10. Queanbeyan. Choose your best way through it. I prefer Oaks Estate rather than Yass Road because it has one fewer set of traffic lights and avoids the fast food district. Either way, make sure the windows are wound up and the central locking engaged. Not all Queanbeyan residents are fare-evading scoundrels, and some are pleasant, well-dressed folk who know what brie is. So I’m told.
11. You are heading for the roundabout at the corner of Lowe and Rutledge beside the showgrounds. Take Cooma Street towards Karabar. Look to your right as you pass Karabar Mall. Enjoy the sight. From now on it is trees, all trees.
12. Glance at your street directory for guidance. About a kilometre past Karabar Mall you will see a note saying “Limit of Maps”.
13. It’s not too bad to begin with. It is bitumen.
14. The road winds upwards and the speed limit drops down to 70 km/h. Occasionally it straightens out again and you can go faster. At this point there will be a voice from the back saying, “It’s a particularly bad spot for kangaroos just here.”
15. Kangaroos and wombats. Laughing at you from the shadows under the trees. Wombats are made of the elemental earth, solid rock creatures who will smile to themselves as they jump out from the bushes and under your car, just high enough to take out your sump, leaving your engine falling off its mounts as they continue on across the road, wiping a smear of your oil from their shoulder.
16. Somewhere around here, the GPS display comes to the end of the earth and turns to blackness.
17. The road goes on for miles. Miles and miles. Suddenly you will come across a road spearing off to the left, marked “Burra”. Slam on the brakes and wrestle the car to a stop. Back up and take the turn. Say, “That always gets me by surprise.” There will be a snort of derision from the back.
18. This is a VITAL STEP. Reset the trip meter. Yes, I know that in so doing you will wipe out the figure that tells you how far you have travelled since filling the tank. But make sure that it reads 0.0 at the Burra turn off. If you forget, then turn around and go back and do it.
19. The road gets narrower and rougher. Wildlife is more frequent. Habitations, quaint and rustic though they be, become less frequent. This is a given for the rest of the trip.
20. There are numerous side roads. Ignore them. They are false hopes. They are dead ends. They lead nowhere. Trust me on this.
21. Look at the trip meter. When it reads 13.0, you have reached the village of Burra. Yes, I know that all you can see is a bus shelter and maybe a ruined stone chimney, but this is Burra and this is about as urban as it gets around these parts.
22. There is a road heading off to the left. Into the darkness. It is called Urilla Road or something equally implausible. Turn left. Say goodbye to the bitumen.
23. The road is gravel, with corrugations. And rocks. And wombats. Kangaroos gather on the verges and jump around with excitement when they see your lights. Drive carefully. If you drive like a cabbie, your passenger will start tearing lumps off the seat cushions and throwing them at you.
24. There are occasional stretches of bitumen. They do not last. Draw a sigh of relief and they are gone again.
25. The road gets narrower, steeper, rougher, windier. You are heading into the hills. Just when you think that the car cannot take any more and that the bushes crowding both sides will strip all the paint from your doors and that your passenger has gone to sleep and you are lost in the wilderness, there will be a comment from the back, “We’re about half way. The kangaroos are bad here.”
26. There are puddles and potholes and creeks. Every now and then a tumbledown cottage with a price tag of half a million or so. Forget Forrest. This is where the fair dinkum real estate market has its focus.
27. You will come to a gate in the road at about kilometre 24. It says “Avalanche”. This is probably not a warning sign. It is the name of a nearby rural tourism establishment.
28. You will see the entrance to Avalanche itself on your right. If you are picking Ms T up for the first time, you can go up there and ask for directions, opening and closing the stock gates as you do. Otherwise, don’t turn off, just keep going.
29. At kilometre xx you will see a mailbox. It probably has its own mortgage.
30. You think the last xx kilometres was rough? The driveway up to Ms T’s place makes the drive out look like a freeway. Be glad you are driving in darkness, because if it was daylight, you’d be able to see the sheer drops off to the side.
31. Swing around and you’ll be at the shed. You don’t have to blow your horn, because the dog will announce your arrival and maybe take off a hand or foot when you get out of the car to check for damage.
32. The whole trip takes about 50 minutes from the airport. Turn around and go back, and when you get to the airport, pull into the servo and fill up. You’ll also need to wash the car.
1. Occasionally you will need to pick up Ms T from the airport, or collect her from her rural residence to catch a flight. You will need to know how to get to her house in the Burra hinterland, because the GPS map coverage does not extend out that far, and signposting is scanty.
2. Fill up the car. It is a long way and if you run out of gas you will be in trouble. They do not have service stations out in the Burra hinterland. Or in Burra. Queanbeyan is your last chance. Don’t let it get that desperate.
3. You may also wish to have a meal. Stock up on energy drinks. Drive out to the workshop, if you have time, and collect the fleet’s first aid kit. You may, if you are of a practical bent, check your will.
4. Park at the airport. Do not park in the sparsely-populated section marked “Limousines”, even though your gleaming car is newer, nicer, more highly polished and fresher smelling that the vehicles commonly found there. If you do, a fascist in a yellow high-visibility jacket will come and rouse at you. Instead, drive around until you find the empty car space, and whip in just ahead of whoever spotted it first.
5. Check the flight time. Sometimes the planes collect a tailwind and arrive early. In this case you will find your passenger outside, puffing on a cigarette. She is small and pretty and does not look like a senior executive. Instead she looks like a frequent flyer and you can make a bundle if you know her itinerary in advance, because Qantas share prices are tied to her travels.
6. Write her name on your board and stand with the other drivers. To a man they are middle-aged, ugly and anxious. If there more than six in a row, faint-hearted passengers will turn around and attempt to reboard the plane. If oncoming passengers are smiling, check that you are holding your board the right way up. After picking up Ms T a few times, you will recognise her and you will not need to write her name on the board. Instead, write “Piles” with an arrow pointing off to the left, and stand beside the glummest looking of the other drivers.
7. Ms T will not have any baggage. Instead she has a carry-on backpack which is surprisingly light because it is full of cigarettes.
8. Once outside the terminal, Ms T will make you stop for a quick fag. You may have to borrow a light from one of the other drivers nervously drawing in great lungfuls of tar and carcinogens. Wait patiently while she indulges in her filthy habit. If you are a smoker yourself, light up and stand in companionable silence, puffing contentedly on the fragrant smoke, invigorating your spirits and freshening your outlook on life. You will need all your strength for the journey ahead.
9. Leave the airport and turn left instead of right. Where you are going, there is no chance of a fare back.
10. Queanbeyan. Choose your best way through it. I prefer Oaks Estate rather than Yass Road because it has one fewer set of traffic lights and avoids the fast food district. Either way, make sure the windows are wound up and the central locking engaged. Not all Queanbeyan residents are fare-evading scoundrels, and some are pleasant, well-dressed folk who know what brie is. So I’m told.
11. You are heading for the roundabout at the corner of Lowe and Rutledge beside the showgrounds. Take Cooma Street towards Karabar. Look to your right as you pass Karabar Mall. Enjoy the sight. From now on it is trees, all trees.
12. Glance at your street directory for guidance. About a kilometre past Karabar Mall you will see a note saying “Limit of Maps”.
13. It’s not too bad to begin with. It is bitumen.
14. The road winds upwards and the speed limit drops down to 70 km/h. Occasionally it straightens out again and you can go faster. At this point there will be a voice from the back saying, “It’s a particularly bad spot for kangaroos just here.”
15. Kangaroos and wombats. Laughing at you from the shadows under the trees. Wombats are made of the elemental earth, solid rock creatures who will smile to themselves as they jump out from the bushes and under your car, just high enough to take out your sump, leaving your engine falling off its mounts as they continue on across the road, wiping a smear of your oil from their shoulder.
16. Somewhere around here, the GPS display comes to the end of the earth and turns to blackness.
17. The road goes on for miles. Miles and miles. Suddenly you will come across a road spearing off to the left, marked “Burra”. Slam on the brakes and wrestle the car to a stop. Back up and take the turn. Say, “That always gets me by surprise.” There will be a snort of derision from the back.
18. This is a VITAL STEP. Reset the trip meter. Yes, I know that in so doing you will wipe out the figure that tells you how far you have travelled since filling the tank. But make sure that it reads 0.0 at the Burra turn off. If you forget, then turn around and go back and do it.
19. The road gets narrower and rougher. Wildlife is more frequent. Habitations, quaint and rustic though they be, become less frequent. This is a given for the rest of the trip.
20. There are numerous side roads. Ignore them. They are false hopes. They are dead ends. They lead nowhere. Trust me on this.
21. Look at the trip meter. When it reads 13.0, you have reached the village of Burra. Yes, I know that all you can see is a bus shelter and maybe a ruined stone chimney, but this is Burra and this is about as urban as it gets around these parts.
22. There is a road heading off to the left. Into the darkness. It is called Urilla Road or something equally implausible. Turn left. Say goodbye to the bitumen.
23. The road is gravel, with corrugations. And rocks. And wombats. Kangaroos gather on the verges and jump around with excitement when they see your lights. Drive carefully. If you drive like a cabbie, your passenger will start tearing lumps off the seat cushions and throwing them at you.
24. There are occasional stretches of bitumen. They do not last. Draw a sigh of relief and they are gone again.
25. The road gets narrower, steeper, rougher, windier. You are heading into the hills. Just when you think that the car cannot take any more and that the bushes crowding both sides will strip all the paint from your doors and that your passenger has gone to sleep and you are lost in the wilderness, there will be a comment from the back, “We’re about half way. The kangaroos are bad here.”
26. There are puddles and potholes and creeks. Every now and then a tumbledown cottage with a price tag of half a million or so. Forget Forrest. This is where the fair dinkum real estate market has its focus.
27. You will come to a gate in the road at about kilometre 24. It says “Avalanche”. This is probably not a warning sign. It is the name of a nearby rural tourism establishment.
28. You will see the entrance to Avalanche itself on your right. If you are picking Ms T up for the first time, you can go up there and ask for directions, opening and closing the stock gates as you do. Otherwise, don’t turn off, just keep going.
29. At kilometre xx you will see a mailbox. It probably has its own mortgage.
30. You think the last xx kilometres was rough? The driveway up to Ms T’s place makes the drive out look like a freeway. Be glad you are driving in darkness, because if it was daylight, you’d be able to see the sheer drops off to the side.
31. Swing around and you’ll be at the shed. You don’t have to blow your horn, because the dog will announce your arrival and maybe take off a hand or foot when you get out of the car to check for damage.
32. The whole trip takes about 50 minutes from the airport. Turn around and go back, and when you get to the airport, pull into the servo and fill up. You’ll also need to wash the car.
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Date: 2007-06-18 08:57 pm (UTC)