Mild turbulence and a thunderstorm welcomes us as we descend into Hong Kong. The ‘refreshment meal’ has been and gone, and it’s dawned on me that airline food is a bit like my old school lunches. Different food of course, but a filler just the same. We ate curried beef brisket earlier, and the chef has just dished out something described as cottage beef pie. What a wild imagination he has. It was OK, served a purpose, but it was like the old school lunches. You know, the sandwiches dad made the night before, wrapped in wax paper, and as dry as the Lake Eyre salt pans by the time lunch came around 15 hours later. It was usually honey, completely absorbed by the bread, or good old vegemite. White bread was the popular choice, which
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