Singapore to Perth

26 June 2011

We got up very early this morning. Our flight to Perth was schedules for 9:05 AM so we had to be ready to leave our hostel by 6:00 AM (if not earlier). The caretaker of the hostel was asleep on a mattress on the floor behind his desk. I hated to wake him from his snoring slumber, but I did rouse him and he did order a cab, as promised. The taxi whisked us off to the airport in no time. It seemed the only traffic at that time of morning in Singapore was other taxis, also doing some whisking of their own.

At the airport I weighed our bags again on unused check-in counter scales then we approached the Qantas check-in person and she had nothing remarkable to say about them. Our wheel-chair guy showed up and hustled us through the first station before I could mention that we had magnetic cards for the train that needed to be redeemed for a refund of SGD 20. Too late! We'll never see that money again. It's little things like these we simply have to shrug off as part of the trip. All the planning in the world can't keep oopses like these from cropping up.

No sign of the Chilean ash clouds we'd dreaded might blur our plans. The only thing about the flight worth remarking is that Razelle started sneezing – perhaps something in the blankets; perhaps a cold coming on. I had a strange sensation in my thighs I'd never experienced before, like having a blood-pressure cuff on too tightly. It went away after I walked the length of the plane's aisles several times.

As we flew over Indonesia I tried to note exactly when it was that we were crossing the equator, but I had no accurate way of telling. Eventually, Australia appeared below us. It was another of those moments when the realization that this not a fantasy, this is really happening, came over us. I had to chuckle to myself at the very thought of it.

Landing in Perth, we were met by a wheelchair assistant once again; this time a woman. She was a very efficient multi-tasker as she aided several passengers at once, including some who'd left an envelop at their seat, a young woman on crutches who preferred to hop along instead of being plopped into a wheelchair and the owner of a pair of glasses she was bringing out to them – all while pushing Razelle along. Our first contact with an Australian was with a very impressive one.

We had to declare if we were carrying any food into Australia. My unopened bags of salted and roasted pumpkin seeds passed muster, as did my peanut butter, my bullion cubes and our cans of tuna and sardines. My conscience is clear about openly bringing these into Australia.

We reached our hotel in the downtown district, the Aaron Hotel in Perth, by taxi. Naturally, I posed for a photo-op by the sign on the glass doors. 

 We got our room key and then went to the attached restaurant because they had a special on beer and pizza. Australians and their beer! It was cold and delicious and I managed to drink down the entire tall mug's worth, but it made my head swim. So we slept after that. I noticed three things about Perth that indicated that we'd arrived here in winter. There was a nip of chill in the air (as I expected there would be), sunset and dusk came quite early (it had occurred to me this would be so, but then I'd forgotten) and the deciduous trees were either bare or lightly covered with crisp brown leaves (that was not something I'd anticipated, even though I should have).

I discovered that we'd have no connectivity in the Aaron Hotel unless we paid AUD 10. A wave of depression dashed me in the face – India all over again. I had to find a solution. I went for a walk in Perth's downtown district and immediately discovered a youth hostel. Inside I asked the clerk where hostellers find free Internet. He said wherever there's a McDonald's in Australia there's free Internet. Eureka! My depression lifted as quickly as it had arrived. The nearest McDonald's was two short blocks away. There was hope here in Australia.