I am yet again in Darwin, this time for two weeks. The cat is settled at my friends place in Mordialloc. It is about 15° warmer up here than it is in Melbourne and do you think life would be really good?
Well, other than I’m very tired, because landing at 1:30 am is never fun, especially when you have to be at work in the morning. That is neither here or nor there. I’m used to these silly hours. All is technically well.
Yet last night's flight has left me wanting.
You see, last night was the worst flight I have been on up here.
Was it bumpy? No.
Was it full of drunk footballers? No.
Did they run out of Golden Gaytimes? No.
What made this flight almost unbearable was the fact that there was a largish man next to me in the middle seat, who was coughing when he got onto the plane, continued to cough throughout the whole flight?
He was wearing a mask, but he took that off to cough too.
For the whole 4 1/2 hour flight to Darwin.
You have to sign a declaration before you get on a flight to say that you are fit and well. It seems he missed that.
I was hoping to get a little bit of sleep on the way up. That didn’t happen.
It was an absolutely utterly full flight. There was nowhere else to go. You can’t complain or asked to be moved anywhere. There was no point.
I just think it’s effing rude.
So inconsiderate.
And I’m going into a fortnight of what’s going to be difficult, interesting times at work, as our project is going live tomorrow.
I just hope to heal that I don’t end up with whatever he had. It sounded awful.
And may the fleas of a thousand camels nestle in his armpits.
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