When The Flying Gods Are Against You... The Longest Trip To Oz...
The best of intentions…
? Not entirely relevant, but during the experience I did wonder whether I was
in some rotating representation of purgatory… The idea of constantly rolling
that stone up that hill, only for the stone to plummet back to the base (my apologies
for mixing allegories!).
Anyway, shall we start at the beginning?
A long time its been since I’ve blogged, unfortunately
I’ve not had much to say. This year I’ve focused less on short trips within
China, and more on big trips to the UK and Thailand… thus a requirement to
save, a feat rather incredible for me!
Upon realising my dear OLD Dad (do forgive me Old Man) was
to turn 60 in August this year, my plans changed, and a trip to Australia was
added to the international itinerary.
Leading up to the trip, in order to save (100 yuan is equal
to 20 Australian… ) I stayed put in Tangshan. I’m currently (naughtily)
teaching a couple of students Orwells 1984 and upon re-reading this dystopian
novel see the society reflected almost perfectly in my current home town. The
first page of 1984 you see the protagonist moving through a grey and muted
environment, with only posters of propaganda to alleviate the monotony… need I
say more.
Over the last six months without travel I’ve felt myself oil-simmering
on the edge of the pan, a hot bubble ready to burst over the edge only to flame
up and evaporate… Lets just say I’ve been a bit dark. The heat in Tangshan, 30
degrees with 80% or 90% humidity is too much to bear, and grey polluted skies
did nothing to encourage leaving the apartment. Being a hermit is just too
convenient for an introvert and can lead to Alsatians and Cats… For those who
have depression, we’ve got to keep out finger on the pulse of our feelings and
as much as I tried to alleviate the darkness through food or music or… trying
to dance while cleaning… a change of scenery, an adventure… was the only cure.
And… while difficult to get to said cure… the cure was
waiting and ready!
HOWEVER… lets look at the actuality of said adventure.
As I’m only paid in cash at my job in China, I have to ask
an ‘administrator’ to book my flights for me. When first arriving in China I
found this extremely difficult, to give over your independence and have someone
else book tickets for you, this made me extremely uncomfortable. But, as with
much in China, I’ve come to accept and feel relatively comfortable with the
process… until it goes wrong, ofcourse.
I had Lilly, our Foreign Administrator / Guru who does
everything from arrange our visa’s and police clearance to order us cheese when
required, booked my flights back to Oz through Expedia (never to be used AGAIN!
You’ll see why in short order) three months in advance. How exciting to come
home for Dad’s 60th, I’d arrange with Mum to organise a bit of a
‘shin-dig’, a few friends and a BBQ…
Months passed and finally the day arrived. I headed to T1 of
Beijing Airport to start, having been advised I could change my 30 000 yuan
into AUD without an issue, it being a better idea to bring a thinner wad of AUD
than a shopping trolley worth of CNY… ahhh what fun.
“How much?”, said the lady at the currency desk
I pulled the white shoe box out of my backpack, filled with
red Mao-faced 100 yuan notes… I was shaking a little, feeling like I at least ought
to be arrested for being so ridiculous as to carry 30 000 yuan in a backpack,
and worse… in a shoe box… had I not seen even ONE bank hoist movie?
As I tried to ‘smoosh’ 10 000 yuan bunches at a time through
the tiny silver hole between myself and the Customer Service person, she looked
up at me with distraught eyes. She put her hand over her end of the hole,
stopping the deluge of money coming through.
“how many passport?” she said
“One”, I said
“No”… she said… “Only 1000 AUD for one passport.” She looked
around, “You have friends?” she asked.
“Well yes”, I said stupidly, “But not here… just me… one
passport…”
Her mouth fuddled left and right, she turned back and called
out… resulting in
the appearance of what I can imagine was the manager.
“You need all in AUD?” she asked
“Yes please”, I said, still shaking and feeling like a
criminal…
She came closer to the window, she indicated I do the same;
“We can do $1000, then in a few minutes… another $1000… is
ok?”
I felt like I was in an episode of the Sopranos;
“Yes”, I whispered… and took my first batch… I was, however,
a bit flabbergasted and decided not to go through with this conspiracy… I took
my bags and my 25000 yuan and 1000 aud and sat down at a restaurant,
contemplating my next move.
After deep contemplation over an episode of Dr Phil and some
badly done Pad Thai, I made my move…
If I were clever, I’d have considered the commission each
transaction would make the organisation, if I were NOT clever, I’d head back to
the same place and move back and forth over a period of 25 minutes to change my
30 000 into about three quarters of its worth…
Any guesses? Yes…I went with the latter and hence why I
shall always decline offers to teach economics!
But… it was done, and so, I bagged up, rolled on and headed
to T2 to catch my plane…
DELAYED
What?
This had never happened before (to my recollection… other
peoples recollection was that this HAD happened to me before when I was stuck
(I mean… stuck in the best of ways) in Bali for 10 days more than anticipated
due to volcano eruptions resulting in… flight cancellations… weirdly, I just
remember the personal pool, white water rafting and the monkey forest… but
that’s neither here nor there…)
So… DELAYED. That’s ok, we can do delayed, well until…
CANCELLED
Ummm so that’s not so great…. I headed to the information
desk who directed me to another counter where I could change onto the next
flight to Guangzhou, where I’d then get on a connecting flight to Perth… or
would I?
I waited in line for an hour, trying my very best to keep my
anxiety in check with podcasts about Charles Manson, Genetic Modification and
the benefits of flower arranging for mental health… my anxiety was NOT lowered…
“Are there no other flights?”
“No”, said the Customer Service Agent, “Big storm in
Guangzhou, all flights cancelled”.
“Any direct flights to Perth from Beijing?”
“No”, he said and repeated, “Big storm… everything
cancelled” (I was later to find out this wasn’t entirely true, it was purely
flights into Guangzhou that were cancelled…)
I sighed, but accepted my fate. … worse things can and have
happened… What could one do… I’d wait my turn and everything would be sorted,
if late… still, sorted.
I finally got to the desk, where a semi-English speaking
woman attempted to help me. I was immediately concerned, I’d seen that look of
fear in many a Chinese Customer Service Operators eyes upon seeing a Western
person approach… the twitch of the lips, the flicking of fingers, the rabbit in
the headlights…
She fiddled and fussed with my passport and itinerary for a
good 12 minutes before returning to me and saying…
“No flight for you”
“I’m sorry?”
“Yes”
“No… there is a flight for me… that is my ticket”
“Not a ticket. Your name not on the computer. Need to call
the company”
“Expedia? I don’t have a phone? THAT’S my ticket”
“No” she said, sliding my ticket and passport back through
the hole in the window and indicating I move on.
I’m usually very good at holding back anxiety, I pop in a
little box in the back of my brain and pull it out when it wont cause
distraction or offence… but standing there, pseudo-ticketless, one day before
my fathers 60th, all my imaginings of getting back to Australia for
a wee break, seeing my mother and the Willow (dearest of all doggie friends)… I
felt the box thumped onto a conveyor belt and heading swiftly to the forefront
of my mind.
My heart fluttered, by bags suddenly seemed weightier… what
to do what to do…
I headed over to the one restaurant, hoping to get some WIFI
and work out a solution… no WIFI, no coke or lemonade or ANYTHING I asked for
at the restaurant… my blood pressure was rising.
Piling my belonging upon myself, slapping closed my laptop I
headed to the Information Desk… He suggested I use another WIFI password. My
computer wouldn’t accept it.
I sat, crossed legged next to the information desk, Chinese
travellers peering in at me as they passed. I tried to think, but nothing…
nothing was coming to mind… what to do, what to DO?!
Exasperated I went back to the Information Desk, only to
realise his English was rather limited… The frustration of it all, the lack of
control over this scenario, 6 months spent in Tangshan under grey skies, it all
swept in and over me.
The poor information desk man, is all I can say.
Through charades and pointing I intimated that my flight was
cancelled, I wasn’t able to get on the next one and didn’t have any internet.
And then… I burst
My face mooshed into the most dreadful cabbage patch baby
immediately post excruciating natural birth pre wiping amniotic fluid (this due
to the humidity and tears) expression, quite a shock to the Chinese customer
service agent I’m sure… he looked nothing but shocked and utterly shocked.
“I help! I help!” he expressed, his hand reaching out for
mine.
Initially he tried to work out why my laptop wouldn’t
connect to WIFI before I noticed his ability to read English quite well. I
grabbed one of the pamphlets and a pen from behind the counter:
“Next flight to Perth… where? When?”
He nodded enthusiastically, we had reached an understanding!
He grabbed his phone while simultaneously tapping on his computer… I watched
with hope slowly raising a flag until I saw his face of utter confusion…
“Penth? No Penth”
Lost is my handwriting skill…
“No… R, not N… PERTH… PER”
“Oh oh oh!” he said, repeating the word into the phone, and
suddenly the planets aligned for a brief moment of progress.
He gave me two
options, but I needed to go back to T1, a 20 minute ride on the free shuttle
bus. But… THERE WAS HOPE!
Off I went, popping on another episode of the Charles Manson
story in the hopes of being distracted by the current situation by the story of
a homicidal sociopath, and arrived at the Cathay Pacific / Qantas desk… my
newly converted money and I were soon to part ways.
I had two options, both of which would cost me around $1500
on way… I went with the soonest and cheapest, which was five hours time away.
I’d likely arrive in Albany, Western Australia, 24 hours after intended, but 24
hours pre birthday party, so I couldn’t complain…well no, I had every right to
bloody complain!
I found a 24 hour café, through much fiddling with my laptop
setting finally gained access to the internet and proceeded to write an
entirely ‘Mum-Worthy’ email of complaint to Expedia… Having confirmed that my
ticket was valid and this woman simply put me in the too hard basket and thus
cost me three arms and two legs…
The automated response…
“Please call our Customer Service Department between bla bla
bla…”
Oh no you don’t… I turned to that Achilles heel of such
agencies… SOCIAL MEDIA
I jumped on Facebook and started a tyrannical tirade of shock
and horror at the lack of customer service, the dreadful situation in which I
found myself and…
PING – you have a Facebook message (funny that…)
“Sorry to hear about this situation. Can you provide a phone
number for us to discuss the matter”
Ok… you don’t need the in’s and out’s of this, lets just say
I made my situation clear and didn’t see why I needed to make it convenient to
them to sort this situation, we could very easily use messenger to resolve the
issue…
In terms of therapeutic benefits, this exchange was very
successful. In terms of resolving my issue, getting a refund, or in any
practical sense… not AS successful.
Ok… yes the whole thing was expensive and inconvenient, but
good heavens its nice to fly with a posher airline. Since moving to China its
been Air China, China Air and now China Southern, none of which cater for Western
length humans… to fly with Cathay, the spaciousness, pillows, complimentary
toothbrush (yes… I’m easy to please!), Emirates gives socks as well, but one
cant have everything!
Arriving in Hong Kong I’d been awake for near on 28 hours
and was ready for even just a bit of a nap. I headed to the Information Desk
and said,
“Bed… is there… is there anywhere
to sleep?”
The lovely woman smiled,
almost sadly, looking at my deranged sleep deprived features. She explained
that there was a ‘lounge’ where I could relax, it would cost money…
“I am ok with that”, I croaked and followed her directions
toward this ‘lounge’ business…
How have I never known about this? I know… I never thought
I’d afford such a thing. I’d walk past Qantas Club, wander close by the
Emirates High Fliers… all for that enigma of humans that could afford the
‘first class’ experience… the truth is… even a lowly sneaker wearing, carry-on
only, I’ll blow dry my hair when I get home post hair dress girl like me… can
have that first class experience.
The lounge… is not… just… a lounge. It is a taste of the
other side.
Nervously, I wandered toward the counter, only to be greeted
half way by the lovely Camille. I paid for five hours in the ‘lounge’, and
Camille looked after me throughout my short stay.
Handed a welcoming gift, she showed me the ‘all you can
drink’ bar, then the ala-carte and buffet restaurant, booked me in for a shower
(a bloody shower with shampoo and conditioner and toothbrush and heated
floors!) not to mention the complimentary massage…
After giving me the
grand tour she mumbled something and I said “yes”, because that is the polite
response to questions you’ve not heard… and suddenly I was sat at a couch in
the restaurant enjoying a slow brewed English Tea and a full breakfast
(including mushrooms… sorry, I’ve not had mushrooms in a LONG time!)
Five hours… certainly not enough.
I ended up having a long chat with Camille, a Hong Kong
national who lived in Canada for 20 years (she looked about 20 so I don’t know
how that happened or what moisturiser she uses!), we discussed Global Warming
while I sipped Champagne and waited for my complimentary massage.
So… there IS always a silver lining. Tell you what, although
I didn’t like it when I stayed there for a few weeks, I certainly would recommend
Hong Kong for your layovers!
I headed to the gate at the allocated time, ready for a 7
hour flight to Perth…
DELAYED
What were the odds? Well I couldn’t very well pay for
another stay in the magical ‘lounge’, so I plonked myself over three chairs and
cushioning my head with Sammy the Dog, attempted to snooze while I awaited my
plane.
It was… admittedly, a most delightful flight. Between the
food, customer service and leg room, there was a VERY small part of me that was
thankful for that storm that cancelled my original flight.
After 7 hours we landed in Perth… sadly… I’d missed my
original flight from Perth to Albany and unless you provide 48 hours notice,
they wont move the flight (not sure how I could have known 48 hours before that
there would be a storm in Guangzhou that would prevent my getting to Perth on
time… but who am I to complain…….. yeah – another long email was sent!)
I arrived about midnight and the flight wasn’t until 8.40am
so I got myself through customs and found another 24hour café and whittled away
the time with episodes of MasterChef and Dr Phil…
The hours moved slowly but finally the time had come… I’d
finally, FINALLY be back home… I headed to the correct terminal, made my way
through security, grabbed a cup of tea, sat infront of the ‘Arrivals /
Departures’ screen and nonchalantly looked up.. then back to my tea… before my
brain and my eyes caught up with one another and alarmingly realised…
PERTH TO ALBANY…
DELAYED
What… the… bluming…
freaking… pudding plied paddingtons… heck and HELL was going ON!!!
I messaged my sister… “WTF” was her clear response… on my
behalf, she called the airline who said there was no delay and suggested I
speak to the Customer
Service person for clarification (because they’ve been so
helpful thus far!)
I headed to the desk,
“So… it says a delay for the flight to Albany, but I just
called the company and they said there is no delay?”
“Oh no”, she said happily, “There certainly IS a delay”
(why…. Why was she smiling…?)
“Ummm ok… just out of interest… why is there a delay?”
“Well, the pilot needs to have a 10 hour break between
flights and he was late getting to Esperance”
Ok, I thought but
did not say, so you have ONE pilot… no back up pilots and…
just one plan…what the… you can imagine the thought process from there, no
need to be crass.
So… 30 hours late and a little worse for wear, I made it
home, home home… a beautiful home on the hill with Mum, Dad and the Willow.
With blue skies, but roaring winds and raindrops on the window. Dad’s 60th
went off with warmth and joy and laughter… the following days filled with food
and fun… nights infront of the fire, sunsets and sunshine, and the ever
changing ocean.
Catching up with mates who do nothing but make my heart
burst with knowing them, long lasting hugs and genuine eye contact and
reflection and banter… oh and did I mention food?
Going home… it’s a necessary respite and a beautiful one at
that.
Rather faster than desired, it was time to head back.
Fortunately I didn’t need to fly to Perth… Mum and Dad would drive the three of
us up, have lunch with the Grandparents and then a 7am arrival at the airport
for my 8.40am departure…
Or so I… hoped…
My two bags cling-filmed (at $12 a pop mind you), I entered
the end of the exceptionally long que. Suggestion Mum and Dad go and grab a
cuppa and order breakfast… this shouldn’t take too long…
Famous last words?
After a good hour or so in line (is this what Oprah means
when she says ‘full circle moment’… I should hope not!) I came to the counter
where a lovely South African Customer Service Agent explained what a dreadful
day he was having, while processing my bags and printing out my ticket… Ah
sweet relief, the return journey was going to be so peaceful and…
“Sorry” he said, a look of confusion on his face… my stomach
descended like a weighted elephant…
“Ahh… yes?” I replied… trying to keep positive
“Did you fly out on this ticket?”
“Well… no… because it was cancelled”,
“Ahhh” he said… not a good ahh… not a happy ahh… and ahh
with “bad shit is going to happen now”.
He asked me to stay put, not before taking my bags OFF the
conveyer belt, and headed to a man in a suit… I imagined this would be the
manager.
The South African departed, the Chinese man in the black
suit was now in charge of my ‘situation’…
“You did not come on the ticket?”
“Well… the plane was cancelled”
“Why was the plan cancelled?”
“because of the storms in Guagnzhou”
“I don’t know about that”
“Well… if there weren’t storms in Guangzhou I would have
taken that flight, wouldn’t I?”
“We have no record of that. Because you didn’t get on the
first flight, we cannot put you on this flight. However… you can PAY to get on
this flight today…”
My mind… “I can WHAT
NOW… ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!”
In reality… I explained, as calmly as I could (though my
mother was present for this and I believe she saw a whole new ‘assertive’ side
of me…) that it was THEIR fault this had happened, that I would NOT be paying
for a new flight, that I KNEW there were four seats on the plan and could NOT
fathom why I couldn’t be put on one of those SEATS…. (screaming in my mind, not
in reality… )
Apparently I could
not get one of those seats (nor, though I tried… could I get an upgrade to
Business Class – worth a try though, right?)… a process needed to be followed
from a Chinese perspective and thus… I could either buy a new ticket or wait
til tomorrow…
Dis… pleased…
Fortunately, my parents are all the kinds of goodness and
love they decided to stay another night… we spent out extra day visiting
wineries on the outskirts of Perth and ironically, eating take-away Chinese for
dinner.
“So”, I said, “Lets
do this again”… the next morning we all piled back in the vehicle and headed
back to the airport (think my father knows the route off by heart by now!).
They headed directly to the café and I headed directly to the Chinese Manager
(I’d suggested it might be a good turn for him to allow me to skip the line
given the rigmarole of the previous day and initial flight…
He almost stumbled out of his cubicle to greet me… my
parents must have sensed the strange anxious energy from him, they stayed put
behind me…
“Hello hello”, he said urgently, a ticket in hand… “I’m
sorry, I’m sorry… plane is delayed”
“You’re kidding”, I laughed, thinking that given he knew the
drama of getting here he was alleviating the pressure with a bit of Ozzie
banter…
He… was… not…
I literally guffawed… two hours delay… ok… what can we do…
that’s not a big issue
“Ok, so… thanks for this ticket… where is my ongoing ticket
from Guangzhou?”
“Oh”, said the Customer Service ‘Manager’, “they should be
able to sort that out when you get to Guanzhou”
“I’m sorry… they should…
there is no should[FL1] …
where are my bags going? Do I collect them to put on the next flight? Are they
going direct to Beijing? Who do I speak to to get my next flight?”
“Oh…” he said, in a way that suggested I was being a crazy
pedantic female asking this ridiculous questions, “the bags will go to Beijing”
(well.. thought, I… why the hell cant I
go there for crying out loud!) and you should be able to get a ticket to
Beijing when you get to Guangzhou…”
Again with the SHOULD…
Me… “WHY IS NO ONE HELPING ME!!!!”
Anyway… I had a ticket to Guangzhou and that was halfway to
home… Mum and Dad and I parted ways, hugs and kisses and best wishes.
Upon arrival in Guangzhou there was a race as soon as
everyone disembarked, I wasn’t sure where the race was to… but I’m not one to
come last place. So I put on my Melbourne/London pace and stormed my way along
the corridor taking over Chinese passengers on the left and the right, I was a
Super 8 contender!
I moosh-mashed my way through the hubbub at what I thought
was the ‘finishing line’. There was a fold out table and teams of Chinese
passengers shouting and hand flapping, I elbowed my way through to the front,
having realised there were tickets… on… the table… Not the Golden Ticket, but
hopefully a ticket to Beijing.
I held up my passport, gained the attention of an English
speaking Customer Service person, I say this in the loosest possible way… wasn’t
any customer service forth coming.
“Where to?” he demanded sternly over the shouting of the anxious
crowd,
“Beijing”, I said, pointing to the name on my passport.
He grabbed a wad of tickets and time slowed, I watched as he
flipped through them for what seemed an eternity, I hoped against hope that my
name would appear…
Fiona Catherine – YES!
He thrust the ticket at me and said “Go! Go! Go!” and so I
did…
I dashed with my ticket in my hot little hands, only to come
to a dead stop upon approaching customs. It gave me a moment to look at my
ticket, I had an hour and a half to clear customs and get on the domestic
flight.
I took this moment to breath. I was on the home stretch.
Needless to say this flight was also delayed, the drama’s of
this trip were nothing if not consistent.
Its not without the awareness of the statistical anomaly of
the entire experience that I tell you… my flight from Guangzhou to Beijing was
also… delayed…
Bad luck? A good story? Testing my patience? Trying to get
me to stop
travelling… just life… Probably the latter, but good gracious, this
trip? I felt the universe was conspiring against me!
Upon eventually arriving in Beijing the night bus was full,
so I had another 8 hour wait before I could catch any transportation back to my
town. I decided to take a room in a hotel five minutes away to get any semblance
of sleep… my dreams filled with flights and small windows and confusion… Sadly,
they did not have a credit card machine so before heading back to the airport,
I was taken to another hotel to make payment… #becauseChina
Another hour delay of the bus to Tangshan, I finally made my
way through security, boarded the bus and snuggled my head into Sammy the Dog…
the three hour drive seemed 10 minutes long, a bump and my head banging on the
roof of the bus woke me to ‘home’…
Out of all the flights, trains and bus runs, the only mode
of transportation that was not delayed was the doorless rickshaw from Tangshan
bus station to my apartment…
Well… it appears I’ve been lucky… if all my trips were like
this I wonder if I’d ever travel at all!
Was all worth it… to have a Mum hug, a
Dad smile and a Willow wag…
Going with Cathay Dragon to the UK though I can tell you
now!
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