Day 0 - London, Singapore and Adelaide (and Sydney)
So farewell, then, London. In order to commemorate the atmosphere
created by western Europe's largest city for the last few months, Patrick
and Mark did the following things:
1. They got totally buggered about by the transport system and changed their plans twice in the process of going from home to the airport (a distance of about 16 miles, or less than 0.1% of the total journey).
2. They got wet and cold as it pissed down with rain while they waited on railway platforms.
3.
Finally, and at the airport, they drank pints of overpriced rank Bass (pictured).
And so they left, and put themselves in the tender cares of Singapore Airlines for the next 24 hours.
Unfortunately, Singapore Airlines had decided that the London-Singapore flight would also be the flight carrying the International Colicky Baby Convention (ICBC). As the hours passed and decibel levels on the flight passed 140, SA commemorated this by serving breakfast in honour of the fact that it was six in the evening where we were landing, making sure that the ICBC were served first so they'd be back in full voice by the time the rest of us got to eat the stale bun and Tarmacadam-texture coffee provided.
So
to Singapore airport. Patrick got justifiably pissed off with the
bloody awful trackpad on the laptop and bought a proper mouse for it.
Patrick and Mark hung around for four jetlagged hours, occasionally taking
glances at the departure board hoping this would make the time go faster.
They also spent several hours reinstalling the drivers on the sodding computer
(which had worked perfectly well the day before, when the reinstall disks
were less than 8000 miles away) so that it could see some of the pictures
here. So a good time was had by all....
Mark
also tried to take a picture of the plane. But, as part of series
of events when he failed he get his camera to work, he produced the triumphant
results shown here.
And so onto the second plane of the very long day. A small child kindly explained the technology to Mark so he could get the seat-back tele system to play silly video games, and another long, noisy flight ensued. Whoever said that it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive was, frankly, a lying bastard.
David was also arriving from a more local start-point, in Sydney.
In a slightly ziggy-zaggy line. No, he wasn't pissed, it was just
that the pilot was having a bit of trouble with the weather. At least,
that's David's story. It may simply be that because he was sitting
at the front and wibbling at length to the pilot, this little distraction
was enough to cause the plane to swerve to the alarm of the assembled passengers.
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