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» Airport Stories
Papeete Airport
Many moons ago, on a RTW trip with the GF at the time we boarded a plane in idyllic Rarotonga bound for Tahiti. The flight left late at night and we had checked out of our lodgings that morning so the day was basically spent horsing the local beer.
We were flying Air New Zealand, who were particularly solicitous of our welfare - to the extent that after the third or fourth request for double whiskies, the charming "hostie" responded by coming up the aisle with a full bottle and wearily telling us to "just keep it and don't make too much noise".
Arrived at Papeete Airport at 4.00am plastered and got in the queue to go through customs. It looked like we'd be OK as we were soon at the front and when we were called I stepped forward with my best shit-eating grin on. Unfortunately while I was still compus mentis enough to make eye contact and smile at the guy as I handed over my passport, GF was only able to get as far as the counter before collapsing face down and slowly sliding to the floor unconscious.
Needless to say we were now the centre of attention, and I had visions of us getting arrested or not being allowed into the country, but they didn't seem too bothered. Problem was now to find accommodation, as there was no way we could kip down unobtrusively in a corner of the airport as planned, and all the trucks from the cheap hostels had left. We ended up sharing a taxi with two helpful Germans to their hotel, but unfortunately the only room at the inn was the $200 honeymoon suite. Never in the field of budget travel has so much been spent for so little return.
The ironic thing about it all was that she was fine when we surfaced the next afternoon and remembered nothing after leaving the Cook Islands. I, however, had a hideous hangover.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 13:48, More)
Papeete Airport
Many moons ago, on a RTW trip with the GF at the time we boarded a plane in idyllic Rarotonga bound for Tahiti. The flight left late at night and we had checked out of our lodgings that morning so the day was basically spent horsing the local beer.
We were flying Air New Zealand, who were particularly solicitous of our welfare - to the extent that after the third or fourth request for double whiskies, the charming "hostie" responded by coming up the aisle with a full bottle and wearily telling us to "just keep it and don't make too much noise".
Arrived at Papeete Airport at 4.00am plastered and got in the queue to go through customs. It looked like we'd be OK as we were soon at the front and when we were called I stepped forward with my best shit-eating grin on. Unfortunately while I was still compus mentis enough to make eye contact and smile at the guy as I handed over my passport, GF was only able to get as far as the counter before collapsing face down and slowly sliding to the floor unconscious.
Needless to say we were now the centre of attention, and I had visions of us getting arrested or not being allowed into the country, but they didn't seem too bothered. Problem was now to find accommodation, as there was no way we could kip down unobtrusively in a corner of the airport as planned, and all the trucks from the cheap hostels had left. We ended up sharing a taxi with two helpful Germans to their hotel, but unfortunately the only room at the inn was the $200 honeymoon suite. Never in the field of budget travel has so much been spent for so little return.
The ironic thing about it all was that she was fine when we surfaced the next afternoon and remembered nothing after leaving the Cook Islands. I, however, had a hideous hangover.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 13:48, More)
» Petty Sabotage
coffee over the keyboard
One of the many temp jobs I did between Uni and leaving for warmer climes was in a Dickensian office in the City. Data Entry. Dull. One of those places where the people who work there the longest eventually get the seats nearest the window.
One saving grace was the drop dead gorgeous Aussie lady who came to fix the computers when they broke down. We had so many problems with our pcs when I worked there ...
(Tue 10th May 2005, 9:32, More)
coffee over the keyboard
One of the many temp jobs I did between Uni and leaving for warmer climes was in a Dickensian office in the City. Data Entry. Dull. One of those places where the people who work there the longest eventually get the seats nearest the window.
One saving grace was the drop dead gorgeous Aussie lady who came to fix the computers when they broke down. We had so many problems with our pcs when I worked there ...
(Tue 10th May 2005, 9:32, More)