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Published: December 9th 2018
To get to Bali cheaply we need to fly to Brisbane first. I think we may have been closer to Bali when we were still in Melbourne. As we get on the plane in Brisbane we notice that the first two rows of economy on both sides of the aisle are occupied by men who all look suspiciously like pilots. We hope that there are also pilots sitting in the cockpit, but just to be sure I ask a cabin attendant if he’s sure that at least some of the pilots sitting in amongst the passengers shouldn’t be up the front driving the plane. He looks at me very seriously and assures me that while there are in fact fourteen pilots on board he can confirm that they are all sitting where they’re supposed to be sitting. I wonder why they need fourteen pilots to fly one not particularly large plane. I hope that the attendant doesn’t know something that we don’t.
The lady sitting next to me on the flight up from Melbourne didn’t have much sense of personal space. She was the last person to board and was carrying multiple bags and other paraphernalia, including a very large
newspaper which spent most of its time either a few inches in front of my face or poking me in the eye. Now it’s Issy’s turn. The large elderly gent who parks himself next to her in Brisbane seems to be unaware of the unwritten rule of air travel that states that the person who gets to their seat first has full rights over the armrest. He decides that armrests aren’t for him, and pulls the one between him and Issy up with Issy’s arm still on it. Her personal space has now been well and truly invaded, and whilst her now very close neighbour might be old she still thinks he looks a bit too big and scary to go to war with.
Whenever we fly it mostly seems to be either at night, or over thick clouds or haze, or over the ocean, or sitting in seats a long way from a window. Today however we have got lucky. I am next to a window, it is daytime, the skies are clear, and the views out over the empty interior of our wide brown homeland are stunning. Issy’s personal space invading neighbour is blocking our access to
the overhead locker with my camera in it, so I try to take some happy snaps with my phone. I’d always thought that trying to take photos out of a plane was a waste of time, but miraculously some of these seem to turn out alright.
We stroll along the Nusa Dua beach in front of our hotel and then dine next to the pool. I think this might be just what the doctor ordered.
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