Day One: Melbourne to Istanbul

Plane travel: a necessary inconvenience. First I’ll say that Cathay Pacific are a really good airline. This opinion was bolstered by the fact that I had a great seat next to a nice woman. Second, Chinese/HK officials are very official, and efficient. So all went well up to Hong Kong.

The Turks are something else. Efficient and polite are not two terms I would associate with the people based on the airlines performance. Enough said. The flight from HK to Istanbul was anything but uneventful, as we taxied out to take off the man in the row in front of me started gesticulating wildly. I thought he’d gone mad but he was actually trying to get the attention of the flight attendant (we were sitting in the dark) as there was a man on the floor in the aisle next to him looking deathly pale. Suddenly, on a full flight, there were about twenty flight attendants going insane. I suspect they had all forgotten any first aid training they had ever had (Jason where were you when we needed you?). Four oxygen bottles appeared but no-one had a mask. The poor old lady with the prostrate body was shoved aside so one of the aforesaid flight attendants could get closer to the body and there was a general melee. Doctors were called for and two appear, but maybe one was a new graduate because she wasn’t much use. One started to take a history (a psychiatrist?) and a mask appeared for the oxygen which was duly administered. The man on the floor, whose head was near my seat, seemed totally impassive, conscious, answering questions, but unflustered by all the attention. It did occur to me that it would be a good way to get out of another long distance flight if you were sick of it. Anyway, the plane taxied back to the gate, some official looking men in masks appeared and more consultation occurred. They decided to remove him from the floor, and he was bundled off the plane, along with his wife.

Now I am not one to take advantage of someone else’s misfortune, but two seats had just opened up on a full flight. With the help of the man next me, who also had an eye for the main chance (and the thought of an empty seat next to himself) I skipped across the aisle and secured one of the few seats with an empty one beside me. Whew. The rest of the flight was uneventful and they even made up some time.

Has anyone else noticed that Australian and Kiwi pilots seem to fly every plane these days on international flights?

What I said before about the associating the Turks with efficiency and politeness was brought home with a thud when we arrived at passport control in Istanbul. Several flight all arrived at once, so there were herds of people pushing and shoving to get into a to be admitted to the country. Trouble was, apart from two signed that read Turkish citizens and international visitors, it was unclear where one had to go. Some people had connections and no hope of making them. The Australian Turks were outraged and the poor woman travelling along with 2 small kids just behind me alternately berated her kids and cried while waiting – having been told she had another 7 hours to wait if she missed it and after 26 hours in transit, she was devastated. I shoved her up to the front of me in the line and amused her kids a bit, but when she got there after 2 hours of shuffling forward, she was told she needed a visa and was in the wrong line. Guess what, I was too, as was the man behind me. We formed a small group and stormed the visa office, then pushed back to the front of the line we had been in, no one seemed to complain, but I suspect the mother was really formidable given her anger and distress in the line no-one had wanted to go near her.

Of course, when I finally go through I couldn’t fine my luggage, but eventually sorted that out and made it to the other side, only to find my pre arranged airport pick up was not there (I was not surprised, 2 ½ our late is asking too much of anyone). Another half hour wait after a call to the hotel and I was on the road.

Istanbul is beautiful. Spring is here and we drive in along the Bosporus with all the ancient building lining the road, and the most beautiful array of multi coloured tulips for miles along the median strip.

So endeth my first days travel.