Monday, 9 August 2010
Don't try this at home
We survived. More than 8660 miles, I survived wrangling two kids in a plane – well, three planes – by myself.
Aside from three low points, the trip to Australia was about as decent as I could have asked for.
Low point #1: trying to get a place on the very necessary shuttle from the domestic terminal of LAX to the international terminal of LAX at 9.30pm, shuffling along a narrow traffic island besieged by blaring traffic with the stroller, the carry-on luggage, a weeping Berry and fifty other passengers. And the shuttle swept past the stop without so much as a pause.
Low point #2: on the flight to Auckland, two of our three in-flight entertainment units malfunctioned. Sadly the entertainment unit is essential for entertaining a toddler on a 14-hour flight, but the crew did try... they got it fixed after about eight hours. Man-show slept well which was a real bonus. Berry, not so much.
Low point #3 (the worst): the trip from Auckland to Brisbane. Man-show was really, really over the flying. He didn't shout or cry, but he was bored out of his head and started asking "Are we there yet? Can I get out?" on continuous loop starting about 15 minutes into the trip. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to kick the seat in front of him. Wasn't it put there specifically for kicking? I basically had to lie on his legs. Uhhhh.
But we're here, we're done, and we don't have to do it again... until late September. Heaven help us.