How's your day been?

"How's your day been?"

You know when a cashier inquires politely how your day has been just for something to say with no real interest in your answer?  And you respond with any combination of "Good," "Hot/Cold (or some other weather observation)," "Not bad," "Yeah, alright,"  because you know they don't really care.  Well, I'm going to pretend someone has asked me how my Monday was and I'm going to explain… in detail.Grab yourself a coffee and settle in.

It was a quick trip to Brisbane with my son for an appointment.  Flights being what are currently are we had to fly down Sunday evening.  I haven't flown since Covid without having a flight cancelled or delayed, so when the actual appointment was changed from 11am to 1pm I wasn't game to change the flight in case another flight was cancelled or delayed.  As it turned out Sunday's flight was cancelled and we ended up on the next flight.

No problem.  Sunday night motel.  Lie in on Monday, check out when Cody got hungry and head to the city.  No issues navigating train travel, although we did walk outside the station and around the corner (up a hill) to find that we could have used a not-very-well-signposted other exit that would have spat us out exactly where we needed to go.  Never mind.  We had plenty of time.

Brunch, and some real estate speculation checking out the building across the road (Is it a house? Is it an office? Is it part of that club next door? Why is the barbecue in the garden right up against the front fence? How much would a place like that cost? What number do you think it is so I can look it up on realestate.com?) and we headed into the waiting room almost an hour early for the appointment.  Mum would have been proud - she likes to get to places in plenty of time.  Remember that for later in the story.

About ten minutes before the scheduled appointment time we were told that the doctor was held up in surgery and would be half an hour late.  At this point we could still make the 2.30 train to the airport.  When she was over an hour late they decided to try and get in with another doctor.  As we walked in at 2.20 I knew we wouldn't be catching the 2.30 train.

We did manage to get out of there and to the train station in time for the next train.  "Thirteen minutes on Platform 3," she said as we moved through the turnstile.  We waited at Platform 3.  A train came (not the Airport train) and parked there.  Inaudible announcements came from I know not where, and every attempt to move closer to the sound failed.  Wondering why the train wasn't getting out of the way for our train I looked behind us and noticed a train that said Brisbane Airport on the side.

"Cody, which way did that train come from?"

"What train?"

Observant as always. Thanks.

I stood up to find someone to ask as the train (our train) moved away from the platform.

I raced back upstairs to ask what happened to the Airport train on Platform 3.

"Thirteen minutes," she said.

"Which platform?"

"Three."

I'm not falling for that again.

"It was 3 last time, but it didn't come to 3."

"Sometimes they change platforms"

Now you tell me.

Back downstairs we go and it's about this time that the panic sets in.  When we were waiting for the first train I had checked us into the flight online.  The app said the flight was on time... and boarding in 40 minutes.  We were a 25 minute train trip and a 12 minute wait for said train away.  Remember how I said Mum likes to be in plenty of time for things?  Three minutes is plenty of time for a lot of things, but perhaps not for anything Airport related.

Trains came and went as I wore a groove in the concrete pacing between platforms eyeballing the monitors and frowning at the train still pulled up at Platform 3.  Cody's response to a stressed and anxious mother was to list all the things that had contributed to the situation we found ourselves in, which were already playing on a loop in my head, so I could enjoy them in stereo.  Not all that helpful.

By the time the next Airport train had arrived and we had found seats I was feeling slightly calmer.  That is, until the announcement informing us that there was a hold up on the track ahead so we would be waiting here a while for it to clear.

The plane was still on time at this point and I was madly trying to see what I had to do to uncheck-in, find out whether there were seats on the flight the next morning, how to change the flight, if it was possible to talk to an actual person at Qantas instead of scroll through a FAQ page and I realised that I had 27% battery on my phone.  Damn that quiz game we had been playing!

By the time the train started moving it was down to 23% and I had no answers to any of the queries.  It was going to be okay though, because we were on our way, and we would just have to put up with being the passengers they call by name to board the flight.  It will be right.

Wrong.

"Due to the delay in this service this train will be terminating at Eagle Junction. Passengers for the Airport line are to change trains at Eagle Junction."

The plane is still on time (I put the phone in battery saver mode and checked the flight status), and we have to wait for the next train.  The very helpful guard(let's say that's his job title - I don't actually know, but he did have a hi-viz vest on, so I'm making that assumption) who guessed we were heading to the airport (perhaps it was my exasperated wail of "We're going to miss the plane!" that was the clue) suggested that we wait right down the end so we would be at the front of the train (less distance to walk he pointed out), and assured us that it was only ten minutes from this station.  He failed to grasp the magnitude of my stress, probably because his nearly flat phone didn't just receive a notification from Qantas that the flight was boarding.

We sat on the furthermost seat and I outlined the plan to Cody, which was, in a nutshell, get there fast and then see what we could do about a flight the next morning and a room at the airport motel.

"Good.  This is what I like.  When you have a plan."

Yep. I just needed to be a bit dramatic first.

The guard was right.  It was only ten minutes on the train.  Out we burst, Cody running, me fumbling with the backpack trying to find the tickets that I only then realised we would need to get off the platform, and cursing that I hadn't shoved them in my pocket.

We ran.  It was very soon after we bolted down the travellator that I regretted my wardrobe selection for the trip.  Opting to leave the belt at home because of the inconvenience of going though security with it was in hindsight not the best choice.  Perhaps if I wasn't trying to run with a backpack on whilst holding up my pants I would have been more fleet of foot.  About this time I promised myself that I would not apply to be on The Amazing Race.  They have to run with backpacks, right?

Into the terminal and straight to the big board that declared boldly “Flight Closed” in illuminated letters.  Both of our shoulders sagged as we trudged toward security.

"How are you?" Mr Security inquired

"We just missed our flight,"

"Do you have any laptops, tablets or aerosols in here?"

Right.  No off-script conversation to hold us up here.  Carry on.

Straight to the Service Desk where I explain that our train was held up and the board says our flight has closed.

"All good."

"What's good?"

"Come with me. I'll take you out."

I don't think I've seen a more astonished look on Cody's face and it was probably identical to the one I was sporting.

We were driven out to the plane and on the way I was told that Cody and I weren't sitting together (and in an icy aside we could have had that changed if we had been on time), and the plane had been loaded, sitting on the tarmac for 20 minutes waiting for us.  Apparently at 12 minutes to departure if passengers haven't presented they go without them.  We had about thirty seconds leeway.

Mortifyingly we were "those" passengers moseying onto the plane just before the doors close.  We were so incredibly relieved and still a bit stunned that we actually made it. 

I feel like I took a proper breath for the first time in hours as I sat down.  I had an hour and a half to relax (and unwind the coil spring in my stomach) and read (re-read for the umpteenth time) my favourite book, the wonderfully written Monte Walsh.  I found it on audiobook, and after listening to the sample decided that the voice in my head was easier to listen to than the recording.  Luckily, as it turned out because of the almost flat phone battery.

Here's my photo entry for Week 2 “Hello from… Emerald”.

It's been quite a party, ain't it

Purple Fairy