The hotel at the airport

A field of amber points interspersed with green and yellow, lights momentarily obscured by the aluminium and carbon fibre flying beasts that roost within them. The flickering of warning strobes from the scurrying vehicles servicing the sky bound cousins.

We are staying at the Rydges Hotel Sydney Airport, right across from the International Terminal. There are views of the main runway across to the Domestic terminals. It's a nice hotel, if a little bland, and about as convenient as you can get.

For dinner we just crossed the road to the airport food court. Thai for Alex and B, Vietnamese rice paper rolls for me. Unchallenging food.

Tomorrow we fly to Osaka. My heart is heavy with concern, despite my head reminding me that it will be okay.

There is yet another typhoon, Kong-Rey, lurking in the Pacific, likely heading for Japan. Great sky rivers of wind crossing the continents, the jetstream. Clouds and winds stealthily approaching the city at night to banish the clear skies of today.

Oh for the good old days of holidays, when this stay by the airport would be filled with exciting anticipation. Watching the travellers walk past the big glass windows of the food court and imagining that I was amongst them, picking up on the thrill of the crowds beginning or completing their own adventures.

Tomorrow that will be us walking down the jet bridge into our aircraft, soaring upwards into unknown yet too familiar skies. May they be safe and smooth.

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My first overseas trip: Singapore and Malaysia

I've always loved to travel. My first memory is of sitting in a an aircraft, aged 18 months or so. Yet I never believed that I could travel overseas. To me, it seemed like something you did when you retired, or if you were rich. That all changed when I met B. She had not only travelled overseas, she was from overseas . B was born in Malaysia and arrived in Australia, with her family, in 1988. She still had relatives and friends in Malaysia and Singapore and she, along with the remainder of her family, planned to return for a visit during the Australian summer of 1995. At the time I was staying in B's mother's house while we were studying at university. After B's father passed away the year before I was the nominal "man" of the house and its high maintenance garden; her brother Michael was studying up in Queensland. B and I were quite inseparable and her mother kindly offered to pay for me to join them on their vacation. So it was that I obtained my very firs...

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One night in Canberra

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