and so, we are back home in Sydney. And the final song reference ... Billy Joel from his Piano Man album in 1973.
I know dear reader you have been waiting for the final instalment to read about the final part of our journey. Thank you to everyone who wished us well and hoped that our travels back to Australia would be uneventful. Sadly, however, it was not. Although in the context of the last few weeks it was nothing really, in retrospect it was quite amusing in part.
Leaving Paris
Those of you who know me well will know how obsessive I am bout being on time, particularly when catching planes. To ensure there were no problems I had the hotel staff book the cab for me the day before we were leaving.
I packed all the bags the night before except for the toiletries, so once we were showered and dressed we would be right to go. The next morning it dawned on me that I would have to repack the bags because the 6 bottles of wine we collected on our way around France I had put in our hand luggage. They would be confiscated at the airport if I left them there and there was no way that was happening. Once I had repacked, I put the backpack on and grabbed one of the other bags and helped Jayne down to the foyer. Two more trips back to our room and I had all the luggage downstairs with Jayne, 10 minutes before the taxi was due. Sweet.
And we waited. And waited. At 8:05am the person who booked the cab for me walked past and casually let us know that the it was waiting for us and had been there for a couple of minutes. It had actually been there for €13 worth of time. Annoying, but we were on our way to the airport.
There was a lot of traffic, but we had allowed plenty of time. I grabbed a luggage trolley and loaded the bags on as Jayne crutched her way into the terminal. I left the bags with her and went in search of the Malaysian airline check-in counter. It was of course, down stairs. Jayne wobbled her way to the travellator. Well I thought it was a travellator, it was actually an escalator. No baggage trolleys could use it. So, back we went to find the lift. Jayne was seriously struggling as this was the furthest she had been on crutches. There was a cafe near the check-in desk down stairs, so she sat there while I went to find out what was happening.
Was there a queue? Oh yeah! Ten minutes before check-in commenced the queue went around the corner. The good news? We were flying Business Class and that means you have a separate line. There were only three people in front of me. Jayne staggered over because they needed to see her to verify the tickets. She was very tired and getting weak from all the movement on the crutches. She asked for a wheel chair, yes one was coming, but we had to head back over to the chairs. It was only 20 metres away, but for Jayne it may as well have been a kilometre. It was difficult but she made it.
The wheelchair dude finally turned up and escorted us to Malaysian airlines lounge. It was not as good as the Qantas lounge in Sydney, but it was better than waiting in the terminal. Jayne asked where the toilets were and was pointed in the direction of a set of spiral stairs. Disabled access? What's that? We had about two hours to wait before boarding at 11:30am, so we had breakfast and waited. We weren't sure what time they were coming back to get us. Wheelchair support means an escort to the gate.
11:30 came and went. I spoke to one of the attendants. She phoned someone else, don't worry they are coming, she said. Our flight was called for boarding. Still no-one turned up. They phoned again. At 11:45 we were the only passengers left in the lounge. A third phone call produced a young man who had never done the wheelchair run before. We set off for the gate. Down the lift through the shops and onto the travellator, but it was not moving. The young man pushing the chair was going to have to push all the way. We came to a down slope - that's good, but there was a big hill to climb on the other side. Glad I wasn't pushing the chair. He really needed a clear run to gain some momentum, but there was a woman struggling up the slope and like a puppy, she was in the way, almost under our feet. Just short of the top he had to stop pushing or run over the gasping woman and her bag. I'm sure the rest helped him and he pushed the chair the last few metres to flat ground. Although Jayne later said, she thought he was going to expire before we reached the summit.
I was concerned because we still had to get through security and I had syringes and drugs in my bag for Jayne. Thankfully an escort means by-passing all queues. Of course as I went through the security gate the alarm went off - I forgot to remove my belt. Back through, belt off, shoes off, jacket off ... all good, I grab everything and we head for the plane again ... until I was called back by security. Had I forgotten something? OMG, my satchel! It had all Jayne's medication in it. Back I go. Serious faces. Questions. What is in here? Syringes and medication for my wife. OK they said, off you go.
I walked onto the plane with my shoes, belt and jacket in my hands, but we made it. Business class. Space, comfort, service. Bags stowed. Jayne settled. Time to relax. Finally. It had been a stressful five hours.
The Flight
The flight attendants were wonderful and really looked after us. It was a 12 hour flight to Kuala Lumpur and unusually for us, we were not flying in the late afternoon, so the enforced lights down did not really encourage us to sleep. We watched lots of movies.
In KL we were met at the door of the plane with a wheelchair and were taken straight to the lounge. We were comforted by the fact that this time the wheelchair was left with us and the attendant kept Jayne's boarding pass as security. She promised she'd be back at 8:20, 10 minutes before boarding. And she was! Once again we by-passed the queues. No problems with security. I counted my bags twice. Back on the same plane, in the same seats. New staff who were as lovely and as helpful as the last crew.
Although largely uneventful, the flight from KL to Sydney was quite turbulent and the stewards were confined to their seats for large periods of time. This would not normally be of any concern, except Jayne needed to go to the toilet and because of her instability on crutches she required a period without turbulence.
The verdict on Business Class? It doesn't compare with Economy, but I'm not sure the difference between it and Premium Economy is worth the extra money. There is more room, the seats convert into a flatter bed, but I'd be doing a serious cost analysis.
Sydney
We landed on time. Another wheelchair at the door and were whisked down to Immigration. There were big queues, in fact we compared it to Heathrow, although the lines moved quickly and more staff were called. The 10 minutes we spent here didn't compare to the 2 hours in Heathrow.
Customs was even quicker. I declared the medication and a few things we brought back and we were waved though. Once outside we commenced our search for our driver. QBE arranged a car to get Jayne home. The end was in sight.
We found our driver and accompanied by the wheelchair assistant headed for the car park. Sitting in the back of the car we relaxed. We'd be home in about 40 minutes. What could go wrong? Well, the driver was clearly channelling Henri Paul (google him). He drove up to the boom gate. It didn't budge. He reversed, mumbling about paying for parking and sought another exit. None found. Back to an area where there was just a raised gutter and a footpath between us and freedom. He attempted to drive over the footpath. Front wheels, no worries. The boot contained 60kgs of luggage and then the 150kgs of our combined weight. The back wheels nudged the gutter and spun. He reversed and tried again. Same result. He reversed back further, a larger run-up. I was getting concerned about Jayne's leg being jolted around, but this time he made it. No paying for parking for this dude.
I couldn't see the speedo but both Jayne and I felt that he was driving fast. Laughing about it later, we said, we'd driven over 8,000km around France and Ireland, spent over 46 hours in the air and we were going to die on the M5 within 30 minutes of home. Despite the speed and our discomfort we made it home safely.
Jayne
Monday morning we went to the doctor to have the cast redone and get the referrals for the orthopaedic specialist. The dressing was changed, the doctor and the nurse were both happy with surgeon's work. The new cast is on and Jayne is happy being back in her own bed again. Four more weeks in plaster then x-rays and a visit to the specialist to see if the cast can come off. Following that, physio. She'll need to learn to walk again after 6 weeks of having no weight on her right foot. Until then she is confined to the lounge with her leg raised. Luckily I bought her a bell in Paris so she can summon me or Cait.
The End
And so dear reader, this is the last installment until our next adventure ... yes, we are going back to Paris in 2013. We will see Paris, together. And at that time I will resurrect the blog.
Au revoir.
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