Airborne anecdotes

I've just returned from a few days in South Australia. On our flights, a couple of quirky things worth sharing happened.

Perth-Adelaide: About halfway through the flight, an air-hostess announced that to pass the time, we, i.e. those passengers who wished to take part, could play a game. (Aside: Perth to Adelaide is about a 2.5 to 3-hour flight, so after the safety drill, the pilot's announcements, and the food trolley lumbering up and down the aisle, there isn't oodles of time to pass. Our flight had, however, been delayed for an hour, so maybe the air-hostess realised that the strung-out passengers would appreciate a pleasant distraction.)

Back to the game. The hostess announced that the names of five animals would be given, for which passengers would have to come up with the collective nouns. And, there would be a prize for the first person to get five correct answers. Soon, air-come-game-hostesses were distributing scraps of paper with the hand-written names of the five animals. These animals were: crows, rats, owls, wolves and insects (a broad grouping, but what the heck).

Before long, passengers were busily conferring -- sometimes across the aisle -- and scribbling on their pieces of paper. One passenger was even seen flicking through his pocket dictionary! When participants thought they had five correct answers, rather than raise their hands (old-school), they pressed the game-hostess call button, at which point the hostess would check their guesses, circle the incorrect answers (usually necessary) and furtively write a clue to help them get the correct answer. This buzz of airborne gaming went on for about half-an-hour.

The prize, shared between three passenger 'teams', was an item from the menu. Hardly the lofty loot that I'd dreamt of, but the chocolate bar my wife and I each ate was just the sugar-hit we needed to get through the final half-hour of the flight.

Oh ... and the five collective nouns? How about an online version of the game? I'll give a prize to the first person with five correct answers. No new-school online resources allowed (we've got to slightly simulate the conditions of being on board an aeroplane).

Second quirky incident: Adelaide-Perth flight: A young guy, who appeared to be in his twenties, decided that his white bath robe / dressing gown was suitable kit for flying in. I thought this was the stuff of buck's night's antics or low-grade TV comedies, but this guy was surrounded neither by raucous mates nor a TV crew. He was on is own. As a flight-crew member checked his boarding pass, I heard him mutter something about wanting to sleep on the flight.

On-board, smiles, chuckles and quizzical looks could be seen on passengers' faces as our white-robed friend made his way to and from the toilet. Oh, and in case you're wondering, he wore the robe over his normal clothing.

Melbourne miniatures: No. 1

I just found the exercise book containing the scribbles I made during a holiday in Melbourne in June; so, here's my first word-picture from that trip.

It's 6:40 am and about 9 degrees outside. I'm sitting at a bench inside Macca's looking out at Elizabeth Street; drunk people are returning home from who-knows-where. The combination of these happy drunks (several wave and wish me well), the four doughnuts I've just downed, and, to someone of my generation, comfort music such as the Eurythmics, Here Comes the Rain, Huey Lewis and the News, Hip to Be Square, and U2, The Sweetest Thing, are buoying me -- at least for the moment.

Now, here's a surprise: just within my view, runners, seriously dressed runners (read: lycra, short-shorts, singlets, garish colours), have started started streaming down Flinders Street. Given the temperature, seriously under-dressed is perhaps a more apt description. Nevertheless, here they are, just after sparrow's fart on a cold Sunday morning, running! I hastily leave Macca's to investigate.

"It's 'Run Melbourne'," I'm told by a lime-green-vest-wearing official. I cheer a couple of runners, to feel like I'm part of the action. As I later discovered, Run Melbourne is community charity event in which people run and donate money -- over and above their entry fee, which, from $40 to $70 depending on whether you run 5 km through to a half-marathon, is not to be sneezed at -- to a charity of their choice. Some people actively fundraise for their chosen charity: one bloke raised over $8,000! (My wife, who thinks running for fun is the height of stupidity, would utterly scoff at the idea of running long distances and paying to do so and giving money to a charity for the privilege! "Write a cheque to the charity, pocket the entry fee -- or, better still, donate it to the charity too -- and stay at home with a cup of tea and a crumpet," she'd say. She's got a point.)

Photo: Justin McManus,
http://www.theage.com.au/photogallery/2008/06/22/1214073033685.html

Here's an excerpt from a report about Run Melbourne in The Age (23 June, 2008):

One first-timer, pharmacist Siew Dooley, 40, of Kew, said the atmosphere was very friendly. "We were all suffering together," she said. "We were all wet and cold and miserable, and that provided a sort of camaraderie."

A touch of levity was provided by one runner dressed as the Riddler, the Batman character, who jogged in a purple wig and a green outfit with question marks.

One half-marathon runner dispensed with clothes altogether, running naked except for running shoes. [Yee-ha!]

The man reached the half-way mark in the marathon before police stepped in, because, they said, "he was actually a good runner, and it was hard to pinpoint where he was". But they did, and arrested him.

I wonder which charity nudie-rudie runner donated to. Given the weather, the frost-bite recovery centre would've been appropriate.

Holidays

These pics are from a recent holiday to the aptly named Cosy Corner, on WA's south coast. The larger shadow in front of the wave is a school of salmon. And, yes, I am a very amateur bird photographer -- but I reckon 6 parrots in one photo is pretty good.


































Willy-wagtail meets cows (above). The wooden planks in the left foreground (below) are a launching pad for hang gliders. We decided not to glide on this trip.

Birthdays and moves

I blinked and missed March -- or most of it. My two big 'March-events' were a trip to South Australia for my wife's 30th and a house move. A couple of pics from each are below.

A champagne brunch for the 30th celebrations: all very sweet, except for swatting away wasps and stomping on bull ants. On a good day, this view extends for 100 kms (to the coast!). During the morning I discovered a new, sinister form of torture: a bull ant crawling up the inside leg of your pants while you are availling yourself in the open. Thankfully it didn't bite.



After the event we had some indoor 'fire entertainment'!

That afternoon I played golf on the world's driest golf course (Blyth, SA). The upside was we were the only people on the course, and I got to play in my socks and sandals. S-H-A-M-E, I know; but once you get used to them, they are so-o-o comfie. We found about 20 golf balls during the afternoon: people apparently stop playing after winter and when all the heathery-grass dies, the brown dust is covered with golf balls.



Living room of old house, mid-move, with boxes. I'll put pics of the new house up later. Imagine the same boxes -- but more of them -- in a far bigger, far older place. You get the picture.



A wall of the courtyard: my favourite spot at the old house.

Touchdown

"Subtly, every aircraft is different. For this reason, it's important that you watch this video carefully." Z z z z z z...

I do, I really do try to pay attention during the Qantas safety video; but no matter how many times I've seen it, all I can remember is that should mid-air disaster strike and an evacuation take place (i.e. passengers madly scrambling for their lives), my hand luggage will stay on the plummetting plane, and the life jacket that I'll be wearing will be yellow, including a red knob to inflate it with and a red whistle with which to alert would-be rescuers.

Thankfully, I did not use the yellow-and-red life-saving device on a flight home from Adelaide two days ago. And my hand luggage accompanied me off the plane. It was raining when we touched down in Perth, and it was cooler than the high 20s of Adelaide. A refreshing welcome home after a pleasant 10 days in South Australia.