Mining boom commuter lounge

The destinations on the departure board are unfamiliar - Karratha, Cloudbreak, Solomon Islands - and I am the odd person out, not dressed in navy blue work pants, a high-visibility vest (orange or yellow) and heavy work boots.  The women are dressed like this too, but they wear thongs on their feet.  It's 5am on Wednesday morning in the departures hall of the Perth domestic airport and it's peak hour.

The crowds of people waiting to check in at the kiosk make me very pleased that I've checked in online and that I have electronic bag tags.  I still have to queue at the bag drop, but I'm ready to join the next line in a matter of two minutes.  Modern travel is the experience of waiting in a succession of  lines.  No thrill or glamour there.

The queue to get through security is long, but it moves swiftly.  There are few delays as the people going through are experienced.  The routine of undoing belts, removing jewellery, taking coins and keys out of pockets doesn't happen here. The experienced travellers have come dressed so that they can just walk straight through.  I realise that this is why women are wearing thongs - it saves them having to take the their boots off at the security screening point.  The men wearing boots have already got the laces undone and slip them off like slippers when the time comes.

For once in my life, I am not randomly selected for random explosives screening.  They are too busy with everyone else.

Once in the waiting area of the airport, I notice some new retail shops have opened - surfwear and handbags.  I wonder how business is.  Yes, there are more people coming through the airport, but for most of them it looks like the same experience as catching a train to work - a regular routine that gets them to where they're going.  The lovely handbags look out of place in a world of heavy duty back packs.

Extra banks of chairs have also been installed and they are filled with people waiting for flights.

My journey to the airport was unconventional - a taxi screeched to a halt and the driver got out and said he would take me too to make sure I didn't miss my flight.  He already had a passenger on board, but there were 60 jobs waiting and not enough taxis to go around.  I appreciated his initiative and he explained that he manages cabs and sees things differently from the average driver.

My fellow commuter was flying back to Brisbane and works for a mining company.  He had previously worked in the mines themselves, but now is happy to have a desk job.  I learnt all about "hot shifts" (where the mine operates continuously, workers arrive and pick up where the last shift leaves off) and we talked about how the world could be better organised.

Our driver was intent on efficiency and proudly pointed out the areas of traffic congestion which he had neatly avoided for us.  As they dropped me at the kerb, both the driver and fellow passenger wished me a safe journey home.

You never know who you'll meet and what you'll learn.  That is the true joy of travelling even the shortest distance.

Up, up and away - musings of a frequent flyer

Written on 20 September 2012 - posting tonight due to broadband failure....

I wake up three times during the night, thinking it can't be time to get up yet.  The first time it's 11:50pm - definitely not.  The second time it's 2:45 am - not quite.  The third time it's 4:30am and it is time.  It's been a while since I had to catch an early flight like this for work and I remember that I don't like it.

My cab driver will collect me at 5:15am.  It's too early to eat.  Despite my aim to go to be early, I turn the light out at 11pm.  That IS early for me.  I've packed and laid out the clothes I'll be wearing today the night before.  I sleepwalk to the shower which wakes me momentarily but thirty minutes later my eyes have that sandy, tired feeling.  I make my way through the airport in a haze. One minute the queues to get through security are enormous; when I look again there are no queues.  I walk through and continue to stake my claim to the title of "woman most swabbed for explosive residue at Australian airports".

While waiting for my latte, I notice a couple of pilots waiting for their coffee.  One of them has his ipad out and it starts playing what sounds like the soundtrack to a movie or TV show.  He desperately tries to turn i off but fumbles and makes it louder instead.

"He can't drive his ipad - hope he's better at the controls of a plane," I quip to my barrista.

Urgent announcements to b

oard my flight are made.  i am them standing in a line that string along the whole length of the aerobridge corridor.

It takes ages to get to row 25 while people try to stow their five piece of hand luggage - why aren't the restrictions enforced?  I take my seat and am happy to discover the aircraft is equipped with individual entertainment systems.  I immediately find episode eight of "Smash" and pick up where I left off on my recent flight to Perth.

We arrive on time but it's still a brisk walk to the other terminal at Sydney airport.  The security lines here are endless and chaotic.  It seems no one has ever travelled before and no one has any idea about the need to empty pockets and not try to travel carrying aerosol cans.  I stride to the front of the queue and make it all the way out without even an explosives check!

I'm at the gate lounge for two minutes before boarding starts.  I take my seat in the Dash 8 and fall asleep immediately, waking as the wheels hit the tarmac at my destination.

My bag made it - I was worried! - and then I find the taxi queue.  Four sneering besuited men take up space with a lofty sense of entitlement.  They make derogatory comments about everyone who walks by.  I eyeball them as I take my place in yet another queue, daring them to say something to me.  My direct approach silences them until two cars marked as belonging to the local business chamber come to collect them.

I learnt from the driver of my maxi taxi that for groups of five or more people travelling in the one maxi taxi, the rate is 1.5 times the usual cabfare.  It can' be applied to fewer than 5 passengers.  Good to know.  He warns me to be careful on the Gold Coast.

I arrived at my workplace for the day and rallied.  I really needed to wake up!  Of course I did and made it to the end of another intense, interest and very challenging day.  I am the only woman in the room - in the building actually - and the dynamics are difficult.

I was happy to walk the ten minutes up the hill to my hotel at the end of the day.  There are some magnificent eucalypts along the highway and they were beautifully lit by the late afternoon sunshine.

Coffs Harbour eucalypt
(c) divacultura 2012

My favourite things - this week.

I've been on the road this week, so my favourite things are travel related.  (I could also write a list of my unfavourite things, but I won't.)

1. Room service!  I've been a few places this week. This was a business trip and it was pretty intense.  I arrived in Coffs Harbour in the middle of the afternoon.  The sky was very blue and my overcoat was unnecessary (I would need it later in Canberra).  I checked in to my hotel and made myself a cup of tea.  I checked email, returned some calls, ironed my clothes and prepared for the next day.  At about 4:30 I went for a walk, enjoying just being in a different place.  I decided to order room service for dinner.  The menu was interesting and I ordered a piece of rib fillet steak topped with a soft shell crab!  It was delicious and I ate it while wearing pyjamas and watching TV.  Room service is a nice treat sometimes.

2. My personal taxi driver.  I've had my personal taxi driver since before I moved to Melbourne twelve years ago.  Charlie and Gary are completely reliable, the cab is clean and they're funny.  Highly recommended to take one of the stressful, unpredictable parts out of travel.

3. My prepacked toiletry bag.  I learnt this trick years ago when I was doing the fly out Monday morning, fly home Friday night routine.  I have my toiletry bag permanently packed with travel sizes of the stuff I use.  There's no last minute scrambling around.  It lives in my suitcase.

4. My Sony e-reader.  I finished three books this week and started another one.  In the olden days that would have meant lugging them with me or buying another book at the airport - frustrating when I would think of all the unread books filling my shelves at home.  Now all I need is my e-reader.  Not only do I have a selection of books available to choose from (I keep it well stocked), but I have several dictionaries available also.  Before I had one, I never thought I'd want one.  Then when I was given one, I wasn't sure I'd use it.  Now, I can't imagine life without one.  Currently I'm reading The Richmond Conspiracy by Andrew Grimes.  I have to finish before book group on Sunday.

5. Vacant seats.  I don't know how it happened, but I'm very glad it did: on all five flights I took this week I had a vacant seat beside me.  Even on a short haul flight, this is bliss.

And for this week, there's a sixth thing on the list: the public art in Canberra.  It seems that on every corner and in other unexpected places, there is art.  Of course, I took some photos to share with you.

I noticed this spectacular woman on the way out of the new part of Canberra airport.  She's quite something.

(c) divacultura 2012

Taken from inside at the top of the escalators
(c) divacultura 2012

Not drowning...waving. I love this photo.
(c) divacultura 2012

Big foot
(c) divacultura 2012

Drain cover in Garema Place, Civic.
(c) divacultura 2012

Giant silver pillow, Garema Place, Civic
(c) divacultura 2012

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY & YOU GET THE GIFTS!  Only one more week to enter!
As I contemplate renewing my commitment to divacultura for another year, I feel excitement and affection.  Thank you for sharing some of your time with me. As a thank you gift - and so I can gain a better sense of who's out there - I'll be giving away a pair of my hand knitted socks to two very lucky readers, where ever you are in the world (ie two readers will receive a pair of socks each).  To be in the running, leave a comment on this post by Friday 17 August 2012, stating why you like reading divacultura. My favourite responses will receive the prize (my decision is final).  Why not take the opportunity to sign up and follow too! 

Everything's back to "normal"

Here's today's sequence of events.

Left the family farm on time and without incident.

Travelled at a snail's pace over the gravel road because it is even worse than usual after heavy rain.  Imagine driving on the surface of the moon, but with gravity.

Arrive at Tamworth airport three hours before my flight on the advice of Qantas letting me know that I could check bags in three hours before my flight.  Of course, that may be true if you're in a big city, but isn't true of an airport in a large regional centre.  Even if it is the country music capital.

Have a very pleasant, if rushed, lunch so that I could arrive back at airport no later than 1pm to check in my baggage.

Nearly get knocked out when the boot of the car crashes onto my head as I am retrieving my bag.

Advised by check-in guy that the flight was delayed by at least ten minutes.

As the minutes tick by we quickly conclude it is in fact delayed by many more minutes.

Very bumpy flight to Sydney.

Flight attendants in a snit because tea and coffee service could not be conducted because of the bumps.  I really don't care because the flight is so short it would be better just to have a communal bowl with lots of straws for us to suck our share.

Pfafffff around on tarmac transferring everyone from plane to too-small-bus to transport us to the terminal.  It must have been at least 20 metres from the plane to the terminal but they drove around in a big circle to make it seem like all the pfaffffing was worth it.

On arrival in terminal discover my leisurely hour of coffee and wandering around the airport was not to be as my connecting flight in another terminal was already boarding.  Right leg chooses this moment to have a cramp and go into spasm.

Run like a  crippled maniac over moving walk ways and up escalators, unpack the laptop, take the sunglasses off my head and remove my very dangerous bangle only to be greeted by the world's slowest security staff enquiring about aerosols and umbrellas.

Go through screening without so much as a beep.  Quickly put everything together again willing the explosives screening guy not to pick me.  (I am the most screened woman in Australia, trust me.)

Make it onto flight which is boarding right near security.  YES!

Nap during flight.

Land in Melbourne.

Turn on mobile phone when instructed and receive a text message advising that my baggage has not arrived with me.  Excellent service - at least I don't have to stand at the carousel forlornly watching the same battered backpack go round three times before I draw the conclusion that my baggage has not arrived.

Very friendly and efficient woman at the baggage services desk.  She'd been paging me, but there was no aerobridge when we arrived, so I hadn't heard a thing.  Confirm delivery address and the fact the bag will arrive in Melbourne at 7:05pm and I should have my bag by 8pm.

Another reference number for my collection!

Wait two minutes for a cab.  The driver says three things to me, I have to ask him to repeat them all.  Twice.

Another text message comes through.  This time it's Metro Trains advising that the 6:30pm train I would have caught if I took the Skybus instead of a cab, had been cancelled.  A whole hour's notice!  Wow.  That's a big improvement even if the news is that they're still cancelling trains.

Taxi stops at red light.  Taxi driver starts screaming out the window to the driver in the cab next to him.  "Two dollars.  Two dollars." He's shaking something at the other driver.  I'm trying to convey to my mother that I have landed and am (safely) in a cab.

Arrive at home nauseous.  Driver has idiosyncratic driving style involving pressing his  foot on the accelerator and immediately taking it off and hitting the brakes.  Once he hit the freeway, he handled the steering wheel like vinyl on a turn table.  He'd touch it a little to the left, take his hands off, tug his seatbelt and then tug the wheel to the right and lean forward in his seat.  He went through this sequence repeatedly during the drive.

The car was very clean and his shirt was very white, but he could not drive!  I was on the verge of asking for a bucket.

Arrive home to discover my home phone is out of order.  Spend time talking to a call centre somewhere about this.

Go out for essential groceries.

Eat dinner.

Call baggage services at 8:30pm when there is no sign of bag.  Ben tells me it's in Melbourne and the next courier is leaving the airport at 9pm.  At precisely this moment, my out of order home phone miraculously rings.  It's baggage services asking if anyone will be home to take delivery of the bag no later than 10:30pm.

I suppose bags arriving 5 and a half hours after me is not too bad.

Although they're not here yet.

I had planned to let you know that normal transmission will be resumed today, but I don't think I can be sure of anything.

One of those flights to the wild west

As I walk around the city streets of Perth, I notice several men with crazed eyes.  They look at me and probably notice the woman with crazed eyes and wild hair.  It's eight hours since I walked out my front door in Melbourne and I haven't even left the country.

There was one thing after another.

Initially everything was running like clockwork.  The train arrived one minute after I did.  Perfect.  After a stop at the ATM, the airport bus was waiting and I walked straight on.  The traffic flowed smoothly out to Tullamarine.  I went straight to a kiosk and checked my bag in.  So far, so good.  Time to get some lunch and walk around before being sealed in the plane for four hours.

(This proved to be a good move.  At the end of the story it was more like six hours in the plane.)

Looking at people in airports is one of my favourite things.  People have a lot of stuff.  People are running late.  People need to go back and forth through the security point three or four times before they believe they really do need to take the change and keys out of their pockets, confess to the carriage of aerosol shaving foam or deodorant, or reveal what they are hiding in the folds of their nifty mini-umbrella.  As a frequent traveller, I've got the process down to a fine art.  I know which jewellery and which shoes set off the sensors -  I don't wear them.  My umbrella is packed in my checked baggage.  If it would help, I'd have the fillings in my teeth popped out before I went through.  (That's never been an issue - so far - although there was an incident involving a particularly sturdy under wire bra sometime last decade.  Canberra airport, I think.)

The other thing I love about airports is the bookshops.  And there's time to browse!  I don't buy anything (my e-reader is well stocked) but I never tire of browsing.  There is a very enticing bookstore in the Qantas domestic terminal in Melbourne, if you're wondering.  Turn left after clearing security.

Anyway, boarding commenced on time.  People wrestled their stuff into their tiny space allocation.  The people already seated beside a spare seat hold their breath waiting to discover if they will remain in possession of the extra space.  You can feel their will to live seep out through their toes as you smile and say the fatal words:  "I'm in there."

The flow of passengers down the aisle thinned and we were all strapped in.  It was right on 3pm when when we should have been pushing back from the terminal.  Instead, the Captain tells us that a passenger has failed to board and has checked bags.  This means that we're waiting for either the passenger to turn up, or for the bags to be found and removed from the cargo hold.  Thirty minutes later there's another announcement telling us the passenger has been found and will be with us in five to ten minutes.   A low rumble goes through the cabin.  "I wouldn't like to be that person," I thought, as people craned their necks to catch of glimpse of the offender.

The passenger seemed oblivious to the glares of her fellow passengers as she walked down the aisle.  She was resplendent in a white gypsy skirt, royal purple blazer and chunky knit beanie and scarf in cream.  She was seated in 45A, just across the aisle from me.

The flight passed smoothly and we landed in Perth where we spent another fifty minutes sitting on the tarmac.  There had been a security breach of an unspecified nature in the airport.  As a result, we were stuck where we were and didn't have a time frame for release.  "Better out than in," I thought, under the circumstances.

People are strange.  We stand up, even though we can go no where. We become very tense, even when there is nothing to be done.  One man cracked my elbow with his knee as he climbed over bags in the aisle to find a long lost friend who was at the back of the plane.  When it was announced that we were free, he started to push his way back to the front of the plane with the compelling statement, "I need to get back to my seat."  Really?  Why?  We're leaving now!  You'll get there soon enough.

Thank goodness for the iphone.  I was able to tweet about my predicament and was pleased to hear back from a friend who acknowledged my plight.  At least someone knew where I was.

Suddenly the man beside me shook his phone and said dramatically: "They've shut down communications!"

I looked at him.  I looked at my phone.  Mine was fine.  Oh no, I was next to a panicker!  I hoped we'd be out before we needed to decide who to sacrifice.

Luggage arrived and then I joined the long taxi queue and drove off just in time to hit peak hour.  It took an hour to get to my CBD hotel.  It wasn't all wasted though.  I saw a man driving a red car change his pants while he was behind the wheel.  The traffic was moving so slowly there were several reasons why he may have needed to change his pants right there and then. I decided not to think about it.

I have a walk in wardrobe in my hotel room and the lighting in the bathroom reveals a woman who is in her late twenties.  Good lighting is just what I need after a day like today.