Tidying up for Tas

While I was writing yesterday's blog, I was rudely interrupted by numerous requests for a Skype. It was from Emma, who had organised for everyone who was round at Chris's to let me know how much I am missed. Thanks guys. Supposedly a good time was had by all, and it was a shame to miss it. Maybe next time.

After the exploits of the previous night, every part of my body was telling me to stay in bed for as long as possible. However, I somehow managed to drag myself up at around 7.30, as I had a lot to do. As I'd been staying in someone else's house (and someone I didn't know - not that I was squatting or anything but they're friends of a friend) I needed to make the house as tidy and lovely as when I arrived. While I hadn't ruined their house over the past week, those who know me will know that at times I can be a touch untidy. For example, I'd walk into the house, dump my bags on the sitting room floor, take my shoes off in one part of the house, my socks off in another, empty my pockets onto different worksurfaces, sunglasses on top of the computer, and rifle through my suitcase (throwing all of my clothes onto the bedroom floor). And that's not forgetting the many glasses of water that I left next to my bed in case of nighttime thirst.

So for a week I'd lived like this and it'd been fine. But my flight was at 2.15, and I'd need to be at the airport for about 12ish, so would need everything tidy and sorted as early as possible. So I got up really early. I had been left a checklist, which I triple checked everything, and once satisfied everything had been done, I was ready to go.

In one of the other blogs I mentioned that I can be at times a bit OCD about being on time. I must always be early - in fact, so early, that even if the slightest thing goes wrong, I have so much breathing space that I could have been put onto an earlier flight. After lugging my heavy suitcase through the backstreets of Balmain and onto a bus, I realised that this would be the last time I took this route (it was the same route I'd taken all through the week to go to the cricket). I'd miss Balmain. I'd miss Sydney. It had given me the most amazing memories, right from my first night with New Year's Fireworks, to the last night celebrating an Ashes win with the Barmy Army. It's a brilliant city, and I'll almost certainly be back (maybe in a few years for when we win the Ashes again?). The train I got towards the airport passed by the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, more of Sydney's world famous landmarks, and it was nice to see them up close before I left.

Sometimes getting a flight can be a nightmare. Ardous queuing to check-in, ardous queuing for a security check which could lead to over-zealous frisking, and an ardous wait in the departure lounge to get on a cramped, uncomfortable flight in a small chair where your ears will pop and you can't get to sleep. My airport adventure wasn't that. At all. After getting to Sydney's domestic terminal, I arrived in the Qantas zone to see loads of self check-in terminals. I typed in my name and my destination, and it printed out a ticket. I then took that ticket to the bag-drop, where I placed my bag on the scales, it gave me a tag to put on the bag, and then it wheeled the bag away. I then strolled up to the queueless security scan, where I was told to "not bother" emptying my pockets, and I went and sat down in a nice Italian restaurant (I didn't eat anything, but it had comfy seats) and messed around on the laptop. A bit later (as I said, I was quite early), my flight was called, I walked onto the plane, found there was nobody next to me, so I stretched out and fell asleep. That's how air travel should be!

I arrived in Hobart (Tasmania) to find Colette waiting for me. After we arrived back at her and Rachel's house (this time it was actually their house and not someone else's) and I was given the tour and had dinner cooked for me, we went on a walk where I was shown some of the highlights and landmarks of Hobart. It was great to see a lot of the stuff there (it reminded me a lot of Portsmouth for some reason), and to spend time with Colette and Rachel, who I get on really well with. After all of that, I was knackered, so I went to bed. Then I woke up and wrote this blog.

Until next time, Will