Coming to Australia

Australia is a Great country.

I was a bit woozy, having been travelling for about 23 hours at the time, but I am pretty sure that, when I signed my Incoming Passenger and Quarantine forms on the plane, I did tick the box to say that I would make the above statement on all possible occasions. Not that I disagree with it too much.
Continue reading “Coming to Australia”

How Quickly My Civilisation Falls Apart

Bearsy and I landed in Oz yesterday evening, Friday, at about 7.30 pm. We had left his father’s house at 7.00 am Thursday and departed the UK at 11.30 am. We were both pretty exhausted by the time we landed – the first thirteen hours flight had been boringly long, and noisily filled with the joyful and not-so joyful sound of young children whose parents seemed oblivious to the fact that other passengers might need sleep or even prefer silence. The second flight of seven hours had been almost blissfully quiet, but we were both unable to sleep.

My daughter met us at the airport with a food parcel as if we were refugees – she doesn’t share our opinion that the food in the UK is far better than we can get here! Nonetheless, it was a lovely thought since we had emptied the larder, the freezer and the fridge before leaving and it meant that we did not have to stop for basics or rush out this morning to buy food for today.

However, what we have yet to find in the UK is a shower to compare with the waterfall of hot water that we call a shower at home. We were both looking forward to drowning ourselves in hot water after the long flight… Continue reading “How Quickly My Civilisation Falls Apart”

Queueing – Only in England!

Fellow Charioteers, please allow me a small rant of a laughable nature. I shall try to be brief, but would be interested in any similar ludicrous examples if you have any!

No.1 daughter needed a new passport for her holiday to Tenerife next week – not surprisingly as a 15 year old she left getting the photos until the last minute thus meaning I had to make an appointment and attend the delightful rural backwater of Peterborough where there’s a regional passport office on a day off. Ho hum, I don’t mind wasting a day off for her, that’s what parents do, apparently. Continue reading “Queueing – Only in England!”