I'm back home, happy to say. I enjoyed my holiday, but is is intersting to note how things come to a natural conclusion: 3 days ago, I would have said I was having a great time; yesterday I had had enough and just wanted to go home. A nervous 8 hours spent in an airport on foreign soil did not add to my pleasure, not because of where it was, but because where it wasn't (here, of course). I think I have a long way to go before I become a worldly traveller.
Funny how, the minute I set foot on Australian soil, I felt, acted, more confident. Stepping off the Jetstar flight, which was about an hour and half late, I was, somehow, sure that, somehow, things were going to work out alright. And, sure enough, Qantas, with whom we had originally booked the final leg from Sydney to Brisbane, came through.
"Yes?"
"We were booked on a flight yesterday that got cancelled because to the tsunami alert and then.."
"Name?"
"Er... Smith"
"Jason.... and Ann-Marie"
"Oh, I have Anne-Marie on flight xxxx. Let me see.. the next seats are on flight .xx. at xx. I'll book you now."
"..*stunned gratitude that we will actually get home afterall* Thank you"
"proceed to xxx for transfer to terminal 3"
"Please may i kiss your feet at this point" or anywhere more intimate would be fine too, if that is required so that I might get home today?"
Luckily that last was unspoken and unnecessary. QANTAS flight xxxx was delayed a bit due to faulty wiring in a bit of this and that but we got home in the end. And I've got to say, well done QANTAS, for just doing it, with no nonsense, no spanish inquisition, just "oh, you want to go to Brisbane? Certainly, let me arrange that for you". It still happens in this world, and maybe we have to pay a couple of dollars more for it, but, god damn, it, it might just be worth every cent.
