Woke up after too much packing and not enough sleep and suddenly realised just how close the trip was. Knackered already and there's more to do to get to the fun.Two hours to check-in, four-and-a-half hours to flight. Nearly eight weeks away from everything...and everyone. Strange empty feeling at that last bit.
Just missed an exit window seat with a 7.15am check-in. Drat. JAL JL772, Board 9.05am, Depart 9.35, Takeoff 9.53. Departure...always a strange mixture of emotions. Always a time of heightened emotions: anxiety, perspiration, sudden loneliness, some lip-trembling...from whom? Ah, no. The potential abyss of sudden isolation from loved ones yawns suddenly ahead. Eight weeks, what am I DOING? Vulnerability, last-minute hugs...and my baby nephew arriving 15 minutes before Customs entry in a blaze of surprise and astonishment, on both sides. He sits placidly, big eyes surveying the airport scene of bright lights, exciting noise, and endless fake-fur (?) tourist trinkets, before suddenly reaching up to be held. Starbucks Caffe Mocha Grande with cream, a cinnamon roll and one of the world's most wonderful 15-month-olds. Strong men quake.
Will it all fit? Have I got all the paperwork, TRS included? How much time to get Pete's duty-free scotch? Why do they keep calling for a Mr Killer to urgently join his departing Air New Zealand flight? With a name like that, I'd be glad he hadn't appeared.
New video cameras installed on the plane's exterior for those who didn't want to watch Bridget Jones again. Menu channel 3 showed pilot's view of takeoff and the view above the clouds afterwards. 10500m and cruising, nearly 1000 km/h.
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