At 3am Sydney time, after a nine hour flight from Sydney to Bangkok, I frankly have a lot more to say than I have energy for typing. I’m half way through a two hour layover, reclining on a very comfy sofa which somebody seems to have puked on not so long ago. Strikes and gutters, I guess.
Thai Airways are a great airline. The food is decent and plentiful, the staff are friendly and in some cases, utterly dazzling to look at. The announcements frequently come in quaint broken English, similar to what you find in your digital camera’s poorly translated manual. I found the Engrish even more common at the airport – which, while I mention it, is like an enormous shopping centre, literally more than 1km long. Sucks if you went to the wrong end first. Oh well.
I do have one pesky factoid to vent; if you’re sick, stay at home. Don’t get on a plane and sit next to me, coughing and sniffling as a certain damsel chose to do on my last flight. The dormant germaphobe in me has awakened, and is shit scared of early holiday termination due to lousy personal hygiene of fellow travelers.
Travelers? Jesus, did I just say that? First time out of Australia! Somebody pinch me. I’ve barely seen a thing, and already I’m hooked. Flying into Bangkok was a thrill with a right-side window seat. The full moon made for a brilliant display of Thailand’s copious bodies of water, which I am barely aware of thanks to James Bond movies.
Speaking of airplane views, I’ve done plenty of domestic flights, but this is the first time I’ve taken off in a north-westerly direction, which means I was awarded the novelty of tracing Victoria Road all the way back past my former workplace (Ryde Aquatic Centre, where I was a lifeguard for two years), back to West Ryde, where I could actually pinpoint the house I grew up in. The view was oddly familiar, thanks to Google Earth. Heh.
I should probably mention the rather off-putting apathy of the Sydney Airport Tourist Refund Services officers. They quipped gaily amongst themselves with inane tales involving chewing gum and coffee mugs, whilst I watched the minute hand creep furth and further past my boarding time for a good 25 minutes. And there were only four people in the queue in front of me. They make Oz Post staff look all kinds of enthusiastic. The anxiety of running late for an international flight was scarcely worth the $38 GST refund for my holiday happy snapper.
There’s free WiFi everywhere here at the Bangkok Airport, but for some reason, it doesn’t actually provide an Internet connection. So this post will have to sit patiently on my iPad until I find a usable connection – probably at Heathrow or the hotel in London. So until then, it’s time for some rest; at least, as close to rest as you can get in sweaty clothing and a noisy airport. Bah. I’m tired and grumpy. Expect a cheerier post once I’ve had some rest. Later, amigos.
