Arriving in Sydney

24 hours is a long time to sit in a metal cigar tube. Fortunately, most airlines now realise this, and provide various ways of keeping the hoi polloi pacified, ranging from the 30 bottles of wine consumed by the guy next to us, to the opportunities for Helen to cry once again at "Love Actually". The children sat and played with the Nintendos, watched Pirates of the Caribbean, and even had a sleep.

Singapore (Changi) airport was a delight after the overcrowded chaos of Heathrow. Big wide spaces filled with few people, large numbers of palms, and even an open air bar where we could experience equatorial heat and humidity. Georgia and Ethan thought that the airport smelt of the rainforest dome at the Eden project.

Arriving at Sydney was relatively painless, even if Helen was stressed that I might have sneaked through illicit mud on my walking boots and been arrested under the strict quarantine laws. For the first time ever, we walked up to the carousel and found our four cases immediately. Taxis were easily found, and the Unilodge Hotel was a happy place to finally arrive to, although lacking in expensive interior design.

We went to sleep at around 11pm, after we'd showered and eaten, but still we awoke at 5am. Luckily we could walk up to the roof garden to see the dawn, and be amazed by both the skyline of the Central Business District and that cockatoos were ambling around instead of pigeons. Time for an early bus and a visit to see the harbour proper...