Went through the usual anxieties on the run up to departure, and even though 5:15 a.m., the time I awoke this morning, was pushing it (to say the least) for a 6:05 train to the airport, I felt extremely fortunate not to have slept longer.
I’m sitting on a Boeing 777 at this moment, exactly the same kind of plane that went missing the other week in the Indian Ocean, a fact I’ve tried not to think too much about–the paradox being that I’m writing about it whilst trying not to think about it–and presently we’re just one hour from touching down in Singapore. It’s been a smooth flight thus far, well, two smooth flights actually, the first one from Manchester to Munich, and now this present one. The landing in Germany was probably the least bumpy I’ve ever experienced, and I’m wondering if it’s all to do with the computerised system this model of plane has. I was reading about this in the inflight magazine; apparently it flies on the instructions that are put into the system, and also the computer keeps the plane on a steady and even keel. Mind you, I find it hard to imagine that the Captain or First Officer wouldn’t land the plane manually. I’ll have to do some more research.
I would’ve loved to have been a pilot; thought I’d mention that.
The amount of coughing, sneezing and congestion-filled gruntings going on within this flying vessel is making me feel slightly sick; I want to ask these people if they’ve ever heard of cold medication. If you want to catch a bug, going on one of these long-haul flights are a good way to go about it.
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Later. Presently four hours from Auckland. I’d like to spend a little time writing about how laborious and gruelling these trips to southerly parts are, the only thing being that whenever I feel such a leaning, invariably my mind casts itself, first back to when by plane it would involve at least a couple of days travelling; then to my father’s time when such a passage was by boat, and would take the best part of a month to complete. Finally, I try and imagine the experience of those early settlers back in the eighteen hundreds, when it involved three to four months at sea; such was the trip my Great Grandfather embarked on with his wife and several children when they journeyed from their native Scotland for a life in the New World.
That was back in the 1856, and folklore has it that after all those months at sea in a cramped, creaking, smelly sailing boat; at a time when you’d be thrown overboard for just uttering the words, “Health and safety”; upon landing at Dunedin, David Nicol insisted on doing a full day’s work. Now, back to the present, and reflecting on how I am slightly aggrieved with the high carbohydrate content of the food on this flight, and when I want a glass of Riesling it’s not always easy to get the steward’s attention, I conclude that they were made of much sterner stuff in great granddad’s day.
It’ll be around midnight when I set foot in Auckland, and Anne-Marie will meet me after I emerge fully processed from immigration and customs. The laws here are pretty strict when it comes to what one might be bringing into the country that's potentially harmful to its plant or wildlife. I know what the routine is going to be - they’ll want to see my golf shoes. There are these lamps they hold them under, and liquids they dip them into, presumably to eliminate any trace of Lancashire tree blight, or English stem rot, I imagine. Strange that it doesn’t happen the other way round though when one enters the UK. I guess we are just more embracing when it comes to international fungal desease, being the inclusive culture that we are.
Sunday 30th March.
Played my first show last night in Waipu, and one of the most notable feature of the evening was the number of people that didn't attend. I won’t be too specific, but let’s say that there were less than one hundred and fifty, and more than eleven. Now some may feel that there might be an element of disappointment when audience numbers are, well, perhaps ‘compromised’ is the word, but it was OK, more than OK in fact, and it turned into something that was a bit like a gathering of friends. In the interval I sat with everyone, and we chatted, and by the concert’s end there was little we didn’t know about one another.
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