Home again
Jul. 13th, 2008 08:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringHome in Canberra. Home of winter.
It's been lovely in Rockhampton. Not only is the tropical winter very mild, but it was delightful to share the warmth of my family, my mother, my siblings and all the in-laws, children, grandchildren, girlfriends...
We all gathered at the airport, sat down with coffee and spent the last few minutes just being a family. Smiles and togetherness. And for me a feeling of sadness that another family reunion was ending. My mother's getting on, and looking very frail. We're planning another get-together to mark a significant birthday next year, but each moment spent with my mother is precious.
And, as events over the past two years have demonstrated, you can be taken in your best years. One of my nephews reported in from Spain, where he'd run with the bulls, was black and blue after a minor encounter, and was awe-struck at the ability of the Spanish to party hard. But he survived.
Our flight was called a few minutes earlier than I expected. We went through security into a lounge, glass walls through which we exchanged waves and grins, and then the whole tribe moved in parallel with us as we queued for the plane. I smiled and waved from my window, but I couldn't see anyone behind the glass of the terminal.
Up and away. The botanic gardens, the huge bull on the "Rocky Roundabout" looking tiny, river meanders and billabongs on the floodplain, and then it was unidentifiable plains and hills, forests and ridges, roads and hamlets all the way down to just north of Brisbane, where the coastline came into view, and I could make out Bribie Island, North Stradbroke, Redcliffe, and finally we were skimming the waters of Moreton Bay just before touchdown.
Had to go through security again, and another delay while DS hunted for some lip balm, and in the end we only had a few minutes in the lounge, where I was chased into the gents by a BookCrosser friend from the convention a week before. Amazingly, he wasn't on his way home to Adelaide, he'd been home, collected the family, and now he was off on his own tropical holiday. His plane was on final call, and we only had a few seconds together, but still it was a real boost to see him.
"You must be an amazing woman," I told his wife. And she must be, to be married to such a madcap character, full of fun and adventure. It's like a party to be with him, smiles and laughter and ridiculous t-shirts and exuberance all around.
"Funny," said Kerri that evening, when I described the meeting, "that's exactly what he said to me, last time I saw him."
We found our gate. Our empty gate. Seems like our Sydney flight was delayed until the plane arrived from Adelaide. We had another twenty minutes back in the lounge, where we filled up on snacks. In fact the whole day was snackfoods of varying quality. Not a proper meal in the twenty four hours.
The pilot assured us that he could make up some time, but I was getting very dubious as we came into Sydney. We had a fairly tight connection and by my calculations, our Canberra flight would be leaving about the same time as we landed. Still, I'd once been in a similar situation in Sydney, to find that my onward flight was on the same plane I'd flown in on, so I wasn't giving up hope.
Our flight wasn't showing on the departure boards when we emerged, but it must have been around, because some of our baggage made it. Qantas had automatically moved us onto the next flight, which was a relief, because I wasn't entirely sure what would happen. We were travelling on airmiles, and the conditions for these tickets are pretty tight.
I rang Kerri to tell her of our new arrival time, and we had a silly time in the lounge, getting tizzy on the free booze and watching Youtube videos of plane crashes on my laptop.
I got an exit row window seat for the flight back. A lot of frequent fliers fight for these, but I don't like them. sure, you get a bit more legroom, but they make you stow your carryon out of reach in the overhead bins, and the view out is mostly taken up by wing.
Still, I caught a few glimpses of Sydney, all lit up in the dusk, and at the Canberra end I traced out the main roads in Tuggeranong, South Canberra, Fyshwick and then we were down with a thump, home again.
And boy, was it cold as we walked from the terminal to the car!
It's been lovely in Rockhampton. Not only is the tropical winter very mild, but it was delightful to share the warmth of my family, my mother, my siblings and all the in-laws, children, grandchildren, girlfriends...
We all gathered at the airport, sat down with coffee and spent the last few minutes just being a family. Smiles and togetherness. And for me a feeling of sadness that another family reunion was ending. My mother's getting on, and looking very frail. We're planning another get-together to mark a significant birthday next year, but each moment spent with my mother is precious.
And, as events over the past two years have demonstrated, you can be taken in your best years. One of my nephews reported in from Spain, where he'd run with the bulls, was black and blue after a minor encounter, and was awe-struck at the ability of the Spanish to party hard. But he survived.
Our flight was called a few minutes earlier than I expected. We went through security into a lounge, glass walls through which we exchanged waves and grins, and then the whole tribe moved in parallel with us as we queued for the plane. I smiled and waved from my window, but I couldn't see anyone behind the glass of the terminal.
Up and away. The botanic gardens, the huge bull on the "Rocky Roundabout" looking tiny, river meanders and billabongs on the floodplain, and then it was unidentifiable plains and hills, forests and ridges, roads and hamlets all the way down to just north of Brisbane, where the coastline came into view, and I could make out Bribie Island, North Stradbroke, Redcliffe, and finally we were skimming the waters of Moreton Bay just before touchdown.
Had to go through security again, and another delay while DS hunted for some lip balm, and in the end we only had a few minutes in the lounge, where I was chased into the gents by a BookCrosser friend from the convention a week before. Amazingly, he wasn't on his way home to Adelaide, he'd been home, collected the family, and now he was off on his own tropical holiday. His plane was on final call, and we only had a few seconds together, but still it was a real boost to see him.
"You must be an amazing woman," I told his wife. And she must be, to be married to such a madcap character, full of fun and adventure. It's like a party to be with him, smiles and laughter and ridiculous t-shirts and exuberance all around.
"Funny," said Kerri that evening, when I described the meeting, "that's exactly what he said to me, last time I saw him."
We found our gate. Our empty gate. Seems like our Sydney flight was delayed until the plane arrived from Adelaide. We had another twenty minutes back in the lounge, where we filled up on snacks. In fact the whole day was snackfoods of varying quality. Not a proper meal in the twenty four hours.
The pilot assured us that he could make up some time, but I was getting very dubious as we came into Sydney. We had a fairly tight connection and by my calculations, our Canberra flight would be leaving about the same time as we landed. Still, I'd once been in a similar situation in Sydney, to find that my onward flight was on the same plane I'd flown in on, so I wasn't giving up hope.
Our flight wasn't showing on the departure boards when we emerged, but it must have been around, because some of our baggage made it. Qantas had automatically moved us onto the next flight, which was a relief, because I wasn't entirely sure what would happen. We were travelling on airmiles, and the conditions for these tickets are pretty tight.
I rang Kerri to tell her of our new arrival time, and we had a silly time in the lounge, getting tizzy on the free booze and watching Youtube videos of plane crashes on my laptop.
I got an exit row window seat for the flight back. A lot of frequent fliers fight for these, but I don't like them. sure, you get a bit more legroom, but they make you stow your carryon out of reach in the overhead bins, and the view out is mostly taken up by wing.
Still, I caught a few glimpses of Sydney, all lit up in the dusk, and at the Canberra end I traced out the main roads in Tuggeranong, South Canberra, Fyshwick and then we were down with a thump, home again.
And boy, was it cold as we walked from the terminal to the car!
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 12:05 pm (UTC)Did you know that I was born in Pamplona? I've never run the bulls, though. I leave that for hardcore macho guys, drunken idiots and foreigners that have read too much Hemingway (none of these categories is mutually exclusive). I'm glad your nephew didn't get himself killed. I do watch the encierro on tv, though, every day of the San Fermín fiestas, every year of my life.
As to the hard partying, well, San Fermín is one of the hardest parties in all of Spain. It surprises locals so no wonder if leaves Australian guys in awe.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-20 01:47 am (UTC)It was about the quest for Australia's first saint.
The letter writer said his wife was a saint for putting up with him for fifty years.
I do sorta feel that our wives would be up there.
(newk outing himself as the BCer who chased Pete into the dunny)