Our plane leaves at 6 but we decided to get an earlier train from Oak Flats in case of problems. Anissa and her partner, Jason, offered to drive us to the station - 12.30 train to Wolli Creek, change to Airport Line, 2 stations and we're there. Easy!
But, not so. Arriving at Wolli Creek, we are met with a sign saying Trackwork, get on a bus. Bit of a pain but we can cope. The bus is chock full of people with suitcases and it's not pretty. We stop at the International Terminal first and a very large, sleep-deprived, mad-eyed American gets on with an outsize suitcase. No room near the front so he bullies his way to the back, dragging his suitcase over out feet, as we cower in our seats.
Eventually, the long-suffering driver drops us off at the Domestic Terminal but, as I'm getting off, he shuts the door on me, jamming me in limbo. OK, I can cope but we realise he's taken us to Terminal 3 and we want Terminal 2, so we're faced with a long trudge through the carpark, dragging our luggage. We still have plenty of time and we're told we can't check in our luggage for another 2 hours. There's nowhere to sit but a kind woman lets us share her table in the cafe and Marilyn goes off to get the coffee.
It's not supposed to be like this but, too often, the best laid plans, o' mice and men, gang aft agley, as a better poet than me once said.
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