At this time of the day, it is a pretty easy drive to Tullamarine and as we cross over the Bolte Bridge we savour our last views of Melbourne.
It's only been a couple of years since I flew domestic but the airport has changed a lot - self check-in terminals are everywhere, along with the queues to use them. We decide to go old style and check in with a human being, after all we can't ask the machine if the bags can be checked through all the way (the answer is no) - best of all there is no queue.
After check-in comes the fun part - going through the scanners. Between all our various notebooks, ipads, phones and cameras, there's always a strong possibility that we will get stopped for some type of further investigation. I just knew even before I was pulled to one side that it would be me, it was the look in her eyes.
My stuff is sniffed for explosives and I'm given a once over to ensure I'm not hiding anything on me. It does irritate me when they phrase this as a request, I mean, it's not like you can say no.
Finally, we are through and can wait for our plane in the lounge and try to relax - bit difficult when your mentally checking off the things you were supposed to pack. As Paalo says, if didn't bring it, it's too late and we can always buy it in Europe.
I'm glad to find that our plane isn't an antique - business is in the 2 2 2 configuration and to my surprise there is only a handful of people.
|Obligatory shot of clouds|
With a so few people, breakfast isn't rushed - the choice today is museli or this
|Poached eggs with white sauce, Sausage in tomato sauce and Spinach - Yoghurt and stewed fruit|
This has to rank as one of the more appalling plane meals I've had - just look at the state of those alleged poached eggs. Hang your pony tail in shame Neil Perry.
As for the white sauce concoction, it had the texture and taste and some might say appearance, of re-digested food. The spinach were slimy, the tomato concasse was overpowering and the only thing that was partially edible was the sausage.
It's food like this that keeps the sick bag makers in business - thank goodness it wasn't a bumpy flight.
In Melbourne you're given a ticket letting you know where your bags will come out and hurray, ours are out first. We now have to get to the International Terminal and we're in T3. This used to involve catching a bus but there is now a train that takes you there in 120 seconds and it costs $5 per person.