The hook, in musical terms, is a riff, passage or phrase designed to grab the listeners’ attention from the off. Think of the opening of ‘Le Freak’ by my favourite group, Chic.
The same idea can also be applied to writing, a catchy opening paragraph to draw in the reader. I was going to try it here but couldn’t think of anything, instead you’re probably wondering if I’ll ever get to the point!
As is usual with my blog posts I debated where to start the narrative and as usual, the end of term made sense – to me anyway!
Said end of term fell on Thursday 7th December and fair to say, we were ready for it. A busy term, as it always is, with a few issues and uncertainties, the biggest of which was put to bed only the Monday prior, ensuring that everyone in Transport could enjoy their break free of worry.
As always, it was a lunchtime departure for the buses and by 5.30pm the majority of the team were gathered in the bowling alley at Brighton Marina for a couple of hours of fun and good natured ribbing, before repairing to the nearby Wetherspoon’s to continue the festivities. Aware that I had a long drive the following day I intended to take it easy and it will surprise no one that I was only partially successful in this regard. It was a good night and served to confirm what a lovely bunch I work with.
First on the agenda Friday was a check-up at the dentist – all good thankfully – then back home for a coffee before hitting the road to pick up Sandra from Chester, ready for our big trip.
The trip north should have taken around five hours, instead, thanks to various accidents and road closures it took over seven. I had to turn off the M25 early and cut through Runnymeade and Windsor before hopping on and off the M4, cutting up on the A404 where there was another accident, before eventually getting back on route on to the M40.
The M42 decided to join in the fun and I was mightily relieved to join the M6 Toll where I could engage cruise control and relax a little.
Sandra had a much needed beer ready for me when I eventually arrived and that evening we enjoyed a lovely meal out.
The journey back south on the Saturday was much easier, not least because we could share the driving but traffic was fairly quiet too. ‘Mature’ plumbing necessitated a couple of stops and whilst straining the potatoes I was amused to observe that even emptying the bladder didn’t stop some occupants of the Gents staring at their phones – one hand on the phone and the other on, well you get the idea. I’m know I’m rapidly attaining old fart status but really?
Back home, dwindling supplies in the batch cooking department – thanks to some fairly accurate rationing – meant a naughty but nice chippy tea was called for – and very much enjoyed. Then it was time to don the glad rags as we were heading out – out out even – to the Brighton Centre, to see Jules Holland and his Rhythm & Blues Orchestra.
Wow, what a show. Lots of special guests including two of the original members of The Selecter who been performing together for 46 years, and a late addition to the guest list was Chris Gifford, one of the original members of Squeeze, along with Jules of course. I never imagined I’d ever get to hear Cool for Cats live, but they did it and it was fantastic.
Jules was joined as always for the finale by the evergreen Ruby Turner and her voice had lost nothing over the years, in fact it had matured like a fine wine. A fitting end to a fabulous evening’s entertainment.
The weather was miserable on Sunday but at lunchtime we met with a couple of friends from work, along with their other halves for a lovely Christmas lunch at the Telscombe Tavern. The food was tasty, portions were very generous and we all rolled out late afternoon well and truly stuffed. That evening notification came through that online check in had been completed and that we could print our boarding cards. It was suddenly getting very real.
Monday, and time for me to finally start some packing, but not before a run out to pick up some bits from, and check on, Patsy and a walk on Seaford seafront to blow away the cobwebs. The wind and rain had given away to sun and it was very pleasant indeed.
Then I must have had a rush of blood because I suggested a visit to a er ahem, garden centre. I know, I really am getting old. Sandra readily agreed – no surprise there – and we partook of tea and scones in the café. We didn’t look at any actual plants, obviously…
Tuesday, and finally the day had come! There was still plenty to do though, some last minute washing and ironing and general housework. Fridge and freezers emptied but thanks to some careful rationing and a bit of luck there was very little to go in the bin. At 2.15pm having turned off all the utilities and locked up the flat, colleague and dear friend Lin arrived to run us into to Brighton to pick up the coach for Heathrow. We’d looked at various options, including what is usually my favourite, the train, but with the luggage we had and the currently unreliability of the rail network, the coach was the best – and by far the cheapest – option.
It would be fair to say that the National Express coach driver didn’t appear to be having a good day, in fact the title of Sales Prevention Officer could have been invented for him. His mood was not improved by some late arrivals and by being flagged down at unscheduled stops on the way out of Brighton – to his credit he did stop and pick them up though.
The rest of the journey was uneventful, even the M25 and we arrived at Heathrow on time. Once disembarked I minded the luggage whilst Sandra went in search of a trolley. There was a bit of a walk to the terminal itself and we were grateful for the travellators. Once inside Terminal 3, the Emirates area was swiftly located and bags dropped. I was not looking forward to going through Security – it’s a while since I’d flown and whilst I’d read up about the current rules on liquids, laptops etc I was still worried about getting it wrong, never mind the long queues.
I needn’t have worried though – queues were short and the staff patient and helpful. In a few minutes we were through and it felt like we could finally relax. Time to head to the lounge.
The Emirates lounge wasn’t
included in the ticket but long ago we’d decided to fork out the extra – this
was a special trip and we thought it would be worth it. So it proved, a
pleasant calming atmosphere and the food was good.
I went at the grog like a pig with its snout in the trough – how unusual – and the time until our flight was called went quickly. Access to the aircraft – an A380 – was directly from the lounge, another plus point, and we were soon seated near the front on the lower level. The decision to opt for Premium Economy was a good one – there was so much space! Wider seats and plenty of legroom in an airy spacious cabin. My previous trips downunder back in the day with Trev, we were always shoehorned in near the back of a Jumbo. This was very special indeed.
Thanks to the conducting of some very extensive research in the lounge I could have easily nodded off straightaway, however I managed to hang on for some very tasty braised beef before succumbing and sleeping for most of the flight.
It was Wednesday morning when we arrived in Dubai, some six and half hours later. There was a swift transfer to the next flight, helped by Sandra having booked Assistance back at Heathrow. We had the same seats and the plane could easily have been the same one as everything was pretty much identical. This leg was the long one – up to sixteen hours – and I was glad I wasn’t to be spending it at the back of an old Jumbo like before.
Although we had advised them of my tree nut allergy, neither of the main courses on offer for lunch (dinner) were suitable, however the salmon starter was very tasty and I had two of ‘em along with pudding and cheese and biccies. Needless to say there was wine to accompany. A sleep of sorts followed soon after.
In between more naps I navigated the inflight entertainment system, watching a few episodes of Sherlock and cycling through the various flight information maps, watching the remaining flight time and distance tick down. Slowly!
Towards the end of the flight breakfast was served and we both opted for French toast, served with a delicious spiced apple and date compote along with yoghurt, fresh fruit and pastries. It was more filling than it looked and was very tasty indeed. It was lovely to open the blind to see the sun just starting to appear too.
At 11.10am on the 14th of December we touched down at Auckland after travelling 8,990 miles from Dubai. It was nearly 25 years since I had last visited but it was Sandra’s first time and we just grinned at one another as the wheels hit the tarmac. We’d finally arrived and were thrilled.
Sandra's notes
Well this trip has been a long time in the planning for many varied reasons but as I sat on the coach in Brighton the reality was dawning - yes we were both doing this. I admit to a certain amount of butterflies, more a case of was I going to be okay and keep up with the holiday? I knew Richard would be fine, he gave me confidence that it was going to be alright. I used to travel extensively on my own, years ago and flew all over the place. This was a first flight for many years.
We duly arrived at Heathrow and between there and Auckland - everything went to plan. I am sitting here now in the hotel room overlooking Auckland harbour as I write. Today is the first day I feel more on NZ time and a fun day in the sun beckons. Let the journey around this island begin!