Sydney. On the bridge between the terminal and the belly of the beast. Hot at 10 PM here.
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In flight for nearly five hours about nine hours yet to go to Dubai. Nothing special.
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Four and a half hours to Dubai. There must be a decent turbulence out there, this biggest passenger aircraft finds it bumpy enough and I’m seated in the middle, by the wings, where there should be less movement. Sometimes you can see how elastic this frame is: the ceiling of the lower cabin becomes wavy and it dances a couple of inches in relation to stand-alone structures like the toilet blocks. It is a big boat. Ten seats per row, like in a jumbo, but there’s another level on top. A fat and very round ship. In the cargo bay underneath people can walk without bending down and where I am the ceiling is at about seven feet. I might be wrong but I can’t be bother standing to measure in this rough. The navigation map is not working on our interactive displays and the three outside cameras can’t show much as it’s pitch dark, but fro, the minimal flight info I believe I’m highest in the sky I’ve ever been now at 39,788 feet. Ground speed is 587 mph, I guess we’re doing a mile in about 7 seconds. We must have crossed the Equator a while ago and are just a bit more than 2000 miles from Dubai. Shame the map is not working. And there have been a few other (minor) things not quite working to my liking. The beef stake advertised in the menu as ‘tender’ was certainly cooked by Bridgestone: it had the consistency and the qualities of Formula 1 tyre rubber and perhaps the same taste – I couldn’t tell because the knife would rather cut the plastic plate then the stake. On top of this, we were offered drinks only twice in the first ten hours of flight: water and juice, just a mouthful each. Of course, you can use the tiny paper cups in the lavatory, there’s no sign to warn the water there may be just for washing, but it is hard to get it to run cold only an it tastes like it’s been brewing in a tank for ages – luckily the A380 must be a new ship, so I’m cool with this. But not so cool am I with how scarce other drinks are. I don’t do a lot of drinking and flying but surely we could have been offered more that one shot at choosing alcohol. I do understand this aircraft is operated by a Muslim country and I respect anyone’s choice for abstinence. Yet alcohol is available on board, then why not offer it in moderation. Surely two shots of scotch the size of my thumb or even three mini glasses of wine won’t bankrupt Emirates Airlines and won’t agitate some passengers more than the lack of. Maybe I should go and ask, surely they will say ‘yes’. But I’m not this kind of guy. I’m the sort of passenger who won’t recline his seat further back so it doesn’t disturb the person behind. I may just compromise: if a young lady from the cabin crew pops around for any other reason, I will then consider asking for a wee scotch on the rocks. I can’t bloody sleep. It’s been night for over ten hours in this leg of my journey, the lights are off, only half a dozen kids are crying at times and a young Aussie next to me has been asleep since before we departed Sydney (about an hour late).
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Maybe I should mention that last time I travelled that far was seven years ago. I went Christchurch – Sydney (where I had a day) – Bangkok – London – Bucharest – London – Bangkok (where I stopped over) – Sydney – Christchurch. This time my schedule is much tighter. I don’t travel a lot. But the Alien who technically supports the Mockoblog went from NZ to Europe and back twice in the last 12 month: winter and summer.
Now I’m giving this phone’s battery a break because my seat doesn’t have a charger and I’m too shy to ask a neighbor if I could use his.
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Dubai OK, yet to go through customs with another million people, then I should be able to write.