Zelma’s Trip

So after a flight I expected to be terrifying which wasn’t at all I arrived in Sydney.  I phoned a backpackers’ place from an advert at the airport and spoke to a worker who advised me that a shuttle bus would be arriving in around fifteen minutes time.  I went and waited where they had advised, waited some more and then realised nearly an hour had passed.  I went and called them back and was informed that the driver had just arrived.  The driver turned out to be a slightly psychotic Chinese woman who ushered more people and luggage into her minibus than I though possible, even by Asian standards, and then proceeded to drive like she was possessed.  This wasn’t me being a nervous passenger here either, she was actually certifiably insane in terms of her manouvres.  Other traffic was beeping, she was dodging lights and also seemed to have a slightly interesting idea of how best to get around the city.  After everyone else had been dropped off I was informed that we had to pick more people up.  There was a strange moment where I was sat in the minibus by myself in the middle of the city.  I have no idea where the driver had actually gone, perhaps to get her shot for the day or something I don’t know.  Anyway, she returned eventually only to tell me that we had to go to a different pick up point because of the traffic.  So essentially my flight from Brisbane took just over one hour, then my getting from the airport to my hostel took around three hours.  Go figure!

I finally checked into the hostel and sorted myself out.  After a wander around I must say that I was more impressed with the city than I had been previously.  I’m not sure if this was due to the absence of crazy Catholics everywhere, as was apparent for my last visit, or the fact that I was staying in the heart of China town but the place seemed more alive.  In the evening a group of lads at the hostel invited me to play poker with them.  I managed to come second and win my money back which I guess can only be a good thing.  What possibly wasn’t such a good thing was the game of "ring of fire" which followed and the rather late night.  This, coupled with a bad time of the month, meant that I got little done which I needed to the next day and generally lay in bed and moped around going "ow".  I did go out and get a McDonalds with Ben (one of the guys in my dorm) though which helped significantly.  Oh, and do other productive things like watch television and drink coke.  As Ben pointed out things like sending parcels are much cheaper in New Zealand anyway.

The following day I woke up far too early, decided the alarm was evil and made it go off a bit later.  Being one of the hostel staff and a kindly sort, Ben booked a shuttle bus for me which I promptly got him to change for half an hour later.  I then went down to the bus about five or ten minutes late, sat on the pavement, got cold and realised that I had missed the bus.  I always think that the two hour international check-in is a bit over the top but I had vague concerns to be honest.  Another girl appeared out of the hostel who had booked the seven o’clock bus so I ended up waiting for the later shuttle.  When I got to the airport the check-in queues for Qantas were horrendous.  What’s good about being late though is you get the staff going round calling out flights and then you get whisked to the front of the queue – woohoo!  I think I need to start taking the whole airport on time thing just slightly more seriously actually.  Anyway, I got to the gate with enough time to buy a horrendously over-priced brie sandwich so it can’t all be bad.

The flight was fine although I was very tired.  I managed to confuse the air hostesses who were trying to give a vegetarian meal to the man infront of me.  When I heard them say, "Green", I suggested it might be mine.  When asked if I had moved seats I piped up with, "No, I’ve been sitting in seat 11C for the whole flight".  They then rather politely informed me that I was sat in seat 12C and they were right of course.