Hong Kong and Home

A little before midday I woke from my slumber, still sleepy, but determined to do something in Hong Kong. I already had a shopping list and, thanks to our location, an easy place to start.

The air of Hong Kong was distinctly tropical. A reminder of the local weather was a chart in the hotel lobby warning of the potential approach of a typhoon. Thankfully, it looked like I would be flying out before I would have a chance to feel any effects from it.

The hotel is connected to the Citygate shopping centre, which houses various discount outlets of well known chains. First stop before shopping was food. There are a few restaurants and cafes in the centre, but I wanted something quick and simple so I went for the food court and ate noodles. Then it was time to hit the shops.

I bought yet more clothes for Alex, clothes for B from Esprit and shoes for the two of us. My shoes would have cost at least double the price in Sydney and I needed them so much I disposed of my existing pair in the hotel room when I returned.

I would like to have stayed longer in the hotel, for I was again sleepy. The hotel pool looked very inviting, but I lacked a swimsuit. Citygate was no help there, and I still wanted to get B some better clothes, so I hopped on the MTR and caught the train first to Hong Kong station, then Admiralty on Hong Kong Island. It takes quite a while to travel to the city from the hotel. Fortunately, I emerged at the Pacific Place shopping centre, where I remembered that they had shops like Zara and Mango from our last time in Hong Kong.

Being very well trained by following B on numerous shopping expeditions overseas I was able to purchase B a couple of shirts from Zara, her favourite brand. I also found a Seibu Loft in the centre, so much tinier than its Japanese counterparts. A couple more cute items from there, including some bath toys from a manufacturer named, appropriately enough, "Alex".

By this time I was hungry again. I felt the need to see Kowloon once more, so I tramped back down the tunnel to the MTR and caught it to Yau Ma Tei, close to where we stayed previously at the Dorsett Seaview.

Here was Nathan Road, with decrepit tenements overlooking a forest of neon. I had a terrible serving of chicken and rice for dinner, and a nicer ginger milk pudding and egg custard for dessert. Then it was another long ride back to Tung Chung and the hotel.

I got back to my room, ready to change into my swimwear and try out the pool. Then I looked at my boarding pass. In my tired and confused state I had thought that boarding was at 10:20pm, giving me plenty of time. No, boarding was inless than 20 minutes!

I quickly stuffed everything into my bags and raced back down to reception. I arrived in time for the shuttle bus service, met the same family as on the way in, and hoped to reach the airport in time.

Having already checked in for the entire flight, all I had to do was pass security and immigration. By the time I completed this the monitor was reading Final Call for my flight.

I rushed across to gate 22, still making it there before some of the other passengers.

The Qantas 747 still had the old blue interior, bringing back memories of earlier trips overseas. The lack of a first class and premium economy meant that I was able to sit further forward, in seat 35A. Next to me was an empty seat, with a young man in the aisle. The flight was the emptiest that I had seen all trip, with plenty on middle seats without passengers.

We were delayed in departure, the pilots waiting for fuel paperwork to be completed, then for an empty runway slot. I was still very sleepy, and indeed nodded off while we waited. Eventually, we pushed back and headed off into the dark.

The aircraft raced past the colourful lightshow of the airport and night and up into the cloudy skies. The first few hours were moderately rough, though the seatbelt light was not lit. I wondered if we hadn't escaped from the effects of the approaching typhoon. At one point there were electrical storms to our left fluorescing bright blue with jagged trees of lightning visible across the sky.

But I was too tired to care. I watched the flight map and listened to my MP3 player with a near pair of headphones and occasionally fell asleep for brief periods of time. With my feet stretching out into the adjacent space I was feeling extremely relaxed.

We had a late supper of strongly flavoured lime and tomato chicken and then that was it for the night.

The next morning I watched the sunrise out of my window, counting down the hours left to fly. I ate a breakfast of softly scrambled eggs as the indigo sky grey gold at the horizon.

Before I knew it, we had begun our descent to the north of Sydney. I had brilliant views of the CBD out of my window, then we flew south of the city and across the Royal National Park to begin a southerly landing at Sydney.

As we taxied towards the terminal I saw Singapore Airlines, Emirates and Qantas A380's. I also saw plenty of Qantas 747's. Had I flown any of those on this trip. I did not know, but I was glad to have had a chance to fly both types. I am always saddened to hear stories about Qantas retiring more of the 747's, as they are wonderful aircraft with so many memories for me.

I emerged from the aircraft glad to be going home to my family. Before I made it through customs I had a brief argument with a peroxided Hong Kong woman who had blatantly cut into the line. As they do, she was extremely aggressive in return asking if "I was a man or a gentleman?". I just ignored her, so as not to give her any face, but I now realise I should have said that if she cared about politeness then she should have said "excuse me". Talk about cultural insensitivity! Pity that they didn't bust her for anything at customs. It would have made a Border Security moment.

As I waited 15 minutes for the next train to take me home (a ride that cost me over $15) I reflected on the fact that, whatever is wrong with Sydney, it is still a nicer place than London.

It had certainly been an interesting trip. I had learned a lot, experienced the sadness of being away from family and seen some amazing sights. I found out I could handle long international flights again, even enjoy them, but that next time I wanted to be flying with my family.

Hong Kong photos, Flight to Sydney

Goodbye London, Hello Honkers

Not enough sleep, never enough sleep. You would think that I would take advantage of being away from my restless baby to finally get a whole night's undisturbed rest, but somehow it never worked out like that. For starters, I don't think that I ever adapted entirely to the different time zone. I would come back from the lessons, maybe sleep for a while in the evening, wake up in time to talk to B, fall asleep again, wake up for breakfast and to talk some more.

My bags were quickly packed, in a sense they were never really unpacked, I ate my breakfast of croissant and fruit, and checked out of the hotel.

This time the Piccadilly Line train took me all the way from Earl's Court to Heathrow's Terminal 4. Outside, there was a clear blue sky and I felt comfortable about the upcoming flight. I watched other aircraft on descent into Heathrow as we too approached it in the train.

Terminal 4's check in area is small and dingy. There seems nothing at all to do on that side of security. I checked in for my flight, this time got boarding passes for both legs. From their screens it was apparent that the economy section was absolutely fulls, maybe even oversold by 4 (assuming that's what -4 means). The English skills of the BA staff manning the desks was quite poor, like a large proportion of the service staff I had encountered in London.

Things were a little better airside, with a reasonable range of shops. A big duty free store selling the usual range of perfumes, alcohol, chocolates and souvenirs. There was also a branch of Harrods, mainly luxury goods, condiments and sweets, and souvenirs. I was feeling bad that I hadn't bought anything British for B, instead buying stuff for Alex. Found a couple of little items at Harrods, but nothing special.

Much of the terminal seemed under renovation and it was rather dark and uninspiring. However, there are quite good views of Heathrow's operations from gate 7. You see all sort of airlines that do not fly to Australia, tons of the A320 family, but also MD-11's from SAS in Scandanavia, lots of BA 747's and 777's. The Singapore Airlines A380 even made an appearance.

Three Qantas 747's sat proudly in front of the terminal. I still love this aircraft, with its very distinctive lines and it still hgave me a thrill to think that I would be flying home on a couple of them.

Before I could board, however, the was still a lot of waiting to do. I sat and watch the aircraft take-off and land on Heathrow's parallel runways, listening to music over my earphones.

Eventually, it was time to board. I was in window seat 55K, 10 seats further forward than last time. I wasn't complaining. A father and his friendly teenage son were in the two seats next to me.

It was announced several times that we were to leave our seatbelts off while they refueled the aircraft. The cabin staff were British and they seemed quite pleasant and cheerful. I think they had to put up with a bit of crap on this flight.

While we were waiting to disembark the middle aged aisle seat passenger in the row was on his mobile phone, apparently responding to a potential employment offer for Oracle programming work. I assume that his current unemployment status precluded him from flying in a higher class. I had earphones on the entire trip, but I could see him constantly demanding things of, and complaining to the cabin crew.

In the latter stages of the flight there were also several announcements, both over the PA and as text overlays on the IFE screens to say the smoking was prohibited anywhere on the aircraft and that passengers were not to tamper with the smoke detectors in the toilets.

By the time we were ready to leave a layer of cloud had mostly hidden the blue of the sky. It was a long taxi out to the runway, past various maintenance facilities. We had to cross one of the other runways, waiting for a gap between the descending aircraft to shoot across.

I was pushed back into my seat as we began racing down the runway at full throttle, then we were up off the ground. This time there were no wonderful views of London city, this time it was suburbs and fields. As we skimmed bumpily through the cloud layer I even caught sight of a circus.

Our route took us over the channel towards Rotterdam, then skirting the northern coast of the Netherlands, Germany, across Denmark and the Baltic, returning to the landmass over Latvia. The islands of Denmark are especially interesting and you can see the ferries plying the waters between them.

The previous day I had caught my tutor viewing turbulenceforecast.com, planning his return to Sweden around the movements of a turbulent airmass in the area. I think we caught some of that stream, for things were a little rough above the clouds.

North of Poland we were served lunch, the choices being Lamb Casserole with Baby Onions, New Potatoes and Beans or Red Braised Chicken with Water Chestnuts with sides of Roasted Butternut and Sage Salad, a slice of french cheese and crackers and a bun. I chose the lamb, which proved to be full of flavour. The side dishes were similarly tasty and I especially enjoyed the cheese. Dessert was a Twix ice cream, better than the Split on an earlier flight.

I requested a Coke for a drink and was surprised to be served up a 150ml can of sparkling soft drink with vegetable extracts. Or that's what the Coke can said in an attempt to appear healthier!

Later we handed out snack bags containing a bar of Cadbury chocolate, mints and water. No fruits this time unfortunately.

The crew were also very generous with the hot chocolate, serving up two huge marshmallows. I really enjoy the hot chocolate service on Qantas, very nice!

As we continued over Russia the scenery below was green fields, forest and clouds. We were flying towards the night with dusk falling over the 'Stans. Darkness found us over Kazakhstan, probably over the remnants of the Aral Sea with the land blighted by the carbuncles of salt lakes. The poor populace down there, what remains of them, afflicted by cancers and birth defects from the toxic pesticides blowing on the salt dust.

Our night was 5 hours long as we also flying towards the dawn. I tried to watch the Watchmen, but just couldn't get into it, so I switched over to the Simpsons, which was uncomplicated enough for my addled brain. There were a few bumps and jumps, but no major boughts of turbulence. The captain had announced earlier in the flight that it should be smooth until China, so I was dreading crossing that border.

Thankfully the sky was clear enough to enjoy the sight of cities below, emerging out of the dark lands like dense clusters of orange and white stars.

The shortened day night cycle meant that the next meal that were served was breakfast. I had the hot option: omelette with bacon and braised beans. Nice, and the bacon Qantas uses is particularly tasty, though small in serving. There was also a melon fruit salad, yoghurt, croissant and orange juice.

Half an hour later it was dawn and we were flying above the clouds over China. The threatened turbulence never arrived, but in the distance there was one big storm cloud periodically glowing with lightning.

The carpet of cloud meant that we couldn't see the land below, which was a little disappointing as China is often quite interesting from above - if you can see through the smog layer! Finally, we crossed the southern coastline and began our descent into Hong Kong from the South.

After puncturing the clouds we were presented with a glorious view of the islands and waters off Hong Kong. The morning sunlight shimmered over the calm ocean dotted with ships. As we dropped beneath the height of the mountains on Lantau I caught a glimpse of the big Buddha statue Tian Tan atop on of the hills.

We rolled in past Dragon Air aeroplanes sitting quietly on the tarmac and a Qantas A330. It had been another fine flight on a 747, but I was very tired. I decided to find somewhere to get some sleep before going shopping in Hong Kong.

The airport terminal was probably the nicest that I had used on this trip, bright and airy. I passed through the health screening then immigration carrying only my daypack - the big backpack was checked through to Sydney. I had collected some brochures and maps on Hong Kong from the tourist office prior to immigration and they had directed me to the hotel booking counter once I was out.

The counter recommended the Novotel Citygate, close to the airport and right at the big discount outlet shopping centre that was on my list of destinations. Despite the moderately high price, I accepted. I shared the short, free, minibus ride with another couple and their 6 month old daughter, one of the few babies with less hair than Alex.

Once I saw my room at the Novotel, any lingering regrets about spending the money quickly disappeared. After the rundown budget hotels of Singapore and London this was beautiful! So designer modern and with nice views out from the big windows. If only I had stayed in such a hotel in London then the early nights would have been so much more pleasant, rather than a sore back in a bad chair.

I luxuriated in the raindrop shower, then set my laptop up on the desk playing music from Blade Runner. Then I fell asleep.

Photos

Last day in London

Finally, I have found something decent on British TV. Or actually rather indecent. I was just watching the first episode of Psychoville, the new comedy thriller from a couple of the folks behind the League of Gentlemen. In other words, a very twisted and depraved program. Damn, now I want to watch the rest of the episodes. Just have to hope that the ABC buys the series.

Today was my last day in London. Tomorrow, around midday, I fly out for Hong Kong and then home to Sydney.

The Plone course has left me buzzing with ideas and the confidence to make changes to our website, but I felt like I should make an effort to do something touristy before I depart this city. I figured that there wasn't enough time to see any more museums or galleries before they closed for the day, so instead I would just wander.

From the course location on Oxford Street, I walked to Oxford Circus, then turned left into Regent Street. According to my Lonely Planet guide Londons most famous toy store, Hamleys, was located here.

Hamleys was the type of toy store seen in the movies. Clowns blowing bubbles, magicians showing off tricks, staff in costumes, and five levels of toys. I couldn't help but buy some more gifts for Alex, including some more books by the authors of our favourite book to read to him, The Gruffalo. Incidently, The Gruffalo was mentioned on Psychoville.

I also visited Habitat, a shop selling furniture and homewares. I fell in love with a mat with squares of colour changing LED lights embedded within it. If only I could have fit it in my luggage. The childrens goods made me think of Alex, reminded me of how much I miss him, how much I would have liked to have shared the store with B. I departed feeling a little melancholy.

Continuing to the end of the canyon-like Regent Street I came to Waterloo Place and the Duke of York's Column. Beyond this is The Mall which leads out from Buckingham Palace. It is grandly lined with British flags.

Following the Mall away from the Palace, I walked under the Admiralty Arch to emerge across from Trafalger Square, with its crowds and families. I turned right into Whitehall Street, then right again into Whitehall Place. This is the domain of the military services, quiet streets hiding the sombre business of war behind grand facades.

I passed Old Scotland Yard, now housing the Departmnent of Energy and Climate Change.

At the end of the road was Charing Cross Station and the Hungerford Bridge across the Thames. What better way to end a stay in London than with a walk along the Thames?

I crossed the bridge, admiring the views of the giant London Eyes ferris wheel and the Houses of Parliament. Walking west, I passed the Eye's massive structure, coming to Westminister Bridge. Crossing this, I stood opposite the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. The Parliament building looks almost fractal in its ornate complexity, gold and stone.

Rather than catch a train from Westminister back to Earl's Court I continued on, past Westminister Abbey, another structure of grand architectural design. Up Victoria Street I walked, until I reached New Scotland Yard, guarded by police with submachine guns.

Detail on Westminister Abbey

St James station, headquarters of the London Underground, lies beyond the headquarters of the British police service. The station was quiet, the area's business concluded for the day, so I just caught the train back to Earl's Court, where I had dinner, before retiring to the hotel.

Much as I hate for any trip to end, I am glad to be returning home. I have missed my family. Talking to them on video is not enough, I want to share the experiences of visiting other countries with them directly.

London may be one of the world's great cities, but I can't say that I am as enamoured of it as I am of Paris or Tokyo. I like the way that art and science are promoted everywhere throughout the city. Maybe the cultural linkages between Australia and the UK are too strong, and as such London lacks the exotic appeal of those other cities for me. Yet I would be happy to return and this trip was certainly worthwhile. And when I arrive home I will be in another dysfunctional city, albeit one that feels a little more cheerfull.

That's me signing off from London. Next stop, Hong Kong.

Photos

The streets of London

Men wearing pearl necklaces. That's the weird thing for today. I'm not talking Ian Thorpe necklaces either, but the full set. The two young blokes looked reasonably normal other than that.

Lots of Eastern European folk smoking, their guttural accents belying their origins. But London doesn't feel like a healthy city. It exudes a sense of weary decay under its energetic exterior.

Not much time for sightseeing now, as I am busy with the course. Talking with an expert has given me a whole new perspective on our website, along with the knowledge of how the system works.

I try to squeeze in what little sightseeing I can. The shops along Oxford Street, where the course is being run, don't open until 10am. The museums and galleries generally close for new visitors around 5:30pm, so there is not much opportunity to see more of those attractions.

Instead, I wander the streets, trying to get a feel for the city and its people. Try to get lost, following interesting paths, before finding my way back.

This morning I walked from Piccadilly Circus with its famous giant neon signs, up past Oxford Street, and into Fitzrovia. Hiding inside bland facades were trendy design studios with cool interiors. In the background, the BT Tower, no longer modern, its glass exterior stained with the grey sky.

What catches the eye are the small details. The stone friezes, the industrial black piping, narrow alleyways, iron, brick, wood, small gardens above buildings.

I then walk back across Oxford Street, to Soho Square, a pocket park of bright green trees centred by some building under repair and surrounded by a Catholic Church, a French Protestant Church and an exposed modern urinal. A statue of King Charles II stands in the park, his face seemingly once separated from the rest of him.

The rest of the day is taken up with electronic worlds, until it is time to reemerge into the wind and the rain. Oxford Street is dingy, packed with youth, tourists and chain stores. I want to explore elsewhere. Looking at the railway map I see that Notting Hill Gate is accessible from Oxford Circus, just down the road. From there I can easily return to Earls Court on the Tube.

I emerge out of the dingy Notting Hill Gate Station into an area near devoid of interest. I am hungry and there is nothing here. I know that I am not looking in the right place, but I need to return to my hotel room, to think over the things I've learned and prepare questions for the next day. So I return down the tunnel and catch a train to Earl's Court.

Only this train detours away from Earl's Court. Wrong line, but I find my mistake before it matters and change trains to the correct line at Gloucester Road Station.

The view out of my window

The day stays light until after 9pm. I feel bad for not taking advantage of the light, but then, it is nice to go back and relax in the evenings. To sleep, then to wake up later to talk to B. To sleep once again. A relaxed evening is a rare experience for me, with such long commutes and a baby awaiting my return. Yet, I would rather be playing with my son at home and sharing the night with B. There is an emptiness that comes from not being able to share your discoveries or those of someone else.

Photos (further down)

A little bit of Britain

Britain, Britain, Britain. Or at least the little bit of it called London. To me it's not the mother country, not a spiritual home. Just a place that makes some damn fine comedy and the occasional great science fiction drama. Speaking of which, there is a TARDIS in front of Earl Court Station.

Walking through London is more an exercise in time travel than in an Australian city. There is much history and many stories everywhere you go. It is also a very cosmopolitan city. It often feels like the recent immigrants outnumber the locals, who themselves may have come from many ethnic backgrounds.

Chinatown

London is without doubt one of the world's great cities. Yet, it feels rather dysfunctional, in the same way that Sydney does. Cancelled rail services, entertainment streets that are eyesores, young males who roam the streets oozing violence.

Your typical British hoon

I do not feel comfortable here, despite the shared language and heritage. There are so many Australians here that we are just part of the landscape. As such, I too am expected to be part of the city instead of a detached observer. There is no language barrier to hide behind.

One of the most important behaviours to learn when visiting a new country is to work out which side of the footpath and escalator to walk on. In Britain escalators are the opposite of Australia: stand on the right, walk on the left. So far as the street goes, I think that you are supposed to walk on the right, the opposite of Australia, despite us both driving on the same side of the road.

It's very confusing.

I'm not a beer drinker, but my friends tell me that Fosters Lager is crap. It's advertised heavily here with the line "Put a bit of Australia into you." Right... are they saying that drinking Fosters is like having good sex?

I had a simpl day today, which my feet greatly appreciated. My Plone course began today, but Jorgen, the tutor, had to fly in from Sweden this morning, so we didn't start until 11am. It turns out that I am the only student, the others pulling out for reasons related to the economic crisis.

That suits me fine. Already I have used the knowledge gained today to resolve a few issues with our website.

The teaching room is in a shared office facility on Oxford Street. I arrived early under sunny skies and walked around this dingy street of souvenir shops for tasteless tourists. There are even a couple of Japanese chain stores: Muji and Uni Qlo.

After the course finished for the day I decided to take a train from a different station to return to the hotel. I had arrived at Leicester Square, so I picked Piccadilly Circus to join the ride back to Earls Court.

As I walked down Dean Street I came across Nusa Dua, an Indonesian Restaurant that was cheap but actually quite nice inside. The cheerful Indonesian waitress chattered away about her sister, while I had a tasty meal of snapper with a curry sauce. Made a nice change from sandwiches.

I think somebody had fallen on the tracks, because all trains were cancelled along a stretch of the Piccadilly line. Fortunately, many stations are served by multiple lines, so I instead caught a train to Embankment and changed for the District line to Earls Court instead.

It was pleasant to arrive back early without feeling absolutely exhausted. I felt like watching some television, but the choices are dreadful! I think we tend to get the best of British television in Australia because much of what is available here is crap.

Being summer in the higher latitudes the sky is light until quite late. At 8:30pm it is only now giving the hint of an approaching dusk. Must take advantage of that before I leave, but right now I will enjoy my rest.

Photos

I went to Ghent

The European Parliament, child rapists, fine chocolates, waffles, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Justine Henin-Hardenne and Almost-Aussie-Kim Clijsters. Does anyone know anything else about Belgium? I admit to being quite ignorant about the rather forgotten country of Belgium. Okay, I also admit to knowing a bit about their devastating colonialism in the African Congo and that our old Holden Astra was actually built there, but in terms of world significance Belgium is often the forgotten companion of its better known neighbours France, Germany and the Netherlands. Maybe not Luxembourg.

After flying all this way across the world I felt the need to visit continental Europe. I wanted to gauge my reaction to historical European architecture and design after the near continuous exposure to Asia over the past four years. The Eurostar train service presented two options, France or Belgium. I felt that I couldn't return to France without B, so I chose Belgium.

Possession of a Eurostar ticket permits the holder to travel onwards on any train within Belgium. I wasn't certain if I wanted to go to the capital Brussels, historic Bruges or historic Ghent. After catching the Tube to Kings Cross and St Pancras station this morning I was still unsure. I passed through the airport security-like checks into the boarding area of St Pancras international station still ignorant about the country. So I joined the long queue at the WH Smith in the boarding area and purchased a DK Top 10 book of things to do in Brussels, Bruges, Ghent and Antwerp.

I discovered that most museums are closed on Mondays. Okay, that ruled out a chunk of the attractions, especially in Brussels. Okay, so historical sights are probably the go, meaning Ghent or Bruges and Ghent is closer. Ghent it was.

I was really disappointed with Eurostar. It's supposed to be a premium, but even when I was in first class last time I was unimpressed. This time, in economy, it was plain uncomfortable.The seats are grouped into sets of four, pairs of seats facing each other across a narrow table. My knee was hitting the small rubbish bin under the table whilst leg space was reduced by a low shelf along the base of the wall. Every time the passenger across from me wanted to throw some rubbish I had to move my legs. After travelling on the Japanese rail network this train's faults were really shown up.

What struck me about the scenery out of the window was how bright green it was. You can really tell how much wetter it is here than in Australia. After we emerged from the dark tunnel under the English channel we raced past rolling farms and many tiny villages, each with a tall church steeple at the centre.

It was a long walk from car one to enter Brussels' Midi station. The station building is very large, but by looking at the display screens I was able to find the right platform to catch the train to Ghent. I just managed to jump on the train in time, thanks to a very friendly trilingual conductor.

More scenic countryside with old brick buildings, often with sagging tiled roofs. At least the train was more comfortable and I could stretch my legs out.

Ghent St Pieters station felt old, with the tunnels between the platforms more at home in a crypt. The buidling itself is ornate, though it has some modern shopping options inside. Once outside I had no clue what to do next. There was no useful information on transport options, including the trams which ran outside. So, armed with my guidebook's I just walked in the direction of the city centre.

Ghent is a university town and there were a number of schools along the way. Many shops were closed, but I found an open toystore, where I purchased a gift for Alex. There are two major national languages of Belgium, French and Dutch. I know a little French, but Ghent is a Dutch speaking area and I don't know that very gutteral language (though large chunks of it are very simillar to English). So I felt a little uncomfortable speaking, although it seems like everyone I met spoke good English.

Already, as I walked up the narrow road, tramline in the middle, I could feel the different atmosphere of Europe. I could also smell it, with some sewage system maintenance apparently going on around me. In fact, the whole city felt as if it was under reconstruction, with works everywhere.

Back until the 17th century this city was larger than London, the second largest in Europe after Paris and a major textiles manufacturing centre. Its people are famously stubborn and independent, though the entire city was shamed for rejecting it's son, King Charles V. Today, the noose around the neck is a source of pride.

I hadn't eaten since 5pm the previous night so I stopped by a patisserie and had some pastries and hot chocolate. Further on I passed various clothing stores that, had B been with me, would have stopped me again. Actually, I did pop into a couple to get some clothes for Alex.

Then I continued walking until I reached the town centre, whereupon I was forced to stop in disbelief at the magnificence of the view.

Ghent is dominated by the Belfry, topped by a dragon. Like the rest of the architecture in the city it is massive and ornate. Other buildings, the town hall, cathedrals, a castle and more form a grand skyline.

It had started to rain and after picking up some maps from the tourist office opposite St Bavo's cathedral I went back down to the shops and purchased an umbrella from the Belgian equivalent of Priceline. Silly me forgot to bring his umbrella purchased in Singapore.

I decided to go for a random wander in search of non-tourist food. This was unsuccessful, but I did see plenty of interesting sights. The canals were beautiful, and had it not been raining I would have loved to go for a boat ride along them.

I eventually had a lunch of Flemish beef stew from a restaurant overlooking a square and opposite the massive Art Noveau Socialist Workers House.

Last on my walk was St Bavo's Cathedral. As I walked towards it I could hear music from a nearby music school. The great cathedral has a grand, atmoshpheric interior, but is most famous for its van Eyck polyptych "Adoration of the Mystic Lamb". This exquisite artwork is separately displayed and the small entrance fee gets you an audio guide. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to listen to the very detailed explanations about each panel, but I could appreciate the skill involved.

Time was running out to return to Brussels and catch the ticketed Eurostar express back to London, so I rode a tram back to the station.

Trains to Brussels are quite frequent, though I was a little confused by the fact that the indicator board refers to it as Zuid Brussels rather than the Eurostar stop of Brussels Midi. Doesn't matter, because they are one and the same and both are announced.

I had to pass through British Border Authority checks at Brussels before boarding the delayed Eurostar. The cabin was much emptier this time and I had my set of seats to myself. Are delay was compounded by the loss of our slot through the Chunnel and in the end it was about 20 minutes. The customer service manager was very apologetic and walked through the train to sort out any onward journey scheduling issues. The Japanese mother and daughter opposite me wanted compensation, but it was explained that refunds are only issued if the train is an hour late. Guess they are used to the superb Japanese rail system.

Near the entrance of the Chunnel the weather became brilliantly sunny, but soon after we emerged from the blackness and into Britain low grey clouds covered the sky while lightning strikes hit the ground.

I didn't care. My feet were sore again and all I wanted to do was return to the hotel and lie down. Again I brought some sandwiches up to the room for dinner. Then I slept.

Tomorrow the workshop begins and the sightseeing ends.

Photos

Mummies, Monet, Mathematics, Maiasaura and Metalwork

What do all the above things have in common? They are all on display in various museums and galleries around London and I saw them all in one day.

I was so tired when I reached the Barkston Gardens Hotel in Earls Court. All I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep. The hotel is opposite the verdantly green private gardens of the same name. You need to be a local resident and own a key to visit the shared gardens, a concept that gives the apartment residents some green space.

Unfortunately, there was now room immediately available for me to collapse in upon arrival. So I relaxed in the sitting room adjacent to the lobby and logged on using wireless access to talk with B. I waited there until 10:30, after which I gave up and decided that I might as well go sightseeing.

London is blessed with a great many galleries and museums, many of them free. I had wanted to see a number of them on our last trip here, had walked past the just closed Victoria and Albert and Museum of Natural History, frustrated that I couldn't go in because we had got lost within Harrods. I now had one full day to visit them and I wasn't going to waste that opportunity.

Like Sydney, the London Tube network was severely crippled by trackwork on the weekend, but unlike Sydney, the London transport network has a working smartcard system: the Oyster Card. I love smartcards and bought one from the vending machine. Thankfully, the Picadilly Line was still fully operational, so I caught it to Holborn, the closest station on the line to my destination of the British Museum.

I enjoyed walking the streets of London. After hanging around Sydney, it was good to see a city with some history retained about it. The British Museum specialises in antiquities from the Egyptian, Abyssinian, Greek, Roman and other cultures. I started off in the Egyptian and Sumerian areas with their massive statues and reliefs. I had not realised how advanced Abyssinian sculpture was, with their fearsome gods and dramatic hunts.

Likewise, the quality of the Greek and Roman objects also came as a surprise. I was not familiar with Etruscan art and objects but it is obvious that their style influences Italian design to this day. Absolutely fascinating. Upstairs is also probably the most famous section of the museum: the Egyptian mummies. There are quite a few of them and none of them look like the classical Hollywood mummy of loosely wrapped bandages. One female mummy even had a face painted on her.

Mick Dundee's Roman ancestor's crocodile suite

To get the most out of the museum you would need to be a scholar of the particular cultures, but even a cursory look will leave you impressed.

Leaving the museum I took a walk down Charing Cross Road, past the bookshops, music shops and theatres to the National Gallery. I've been to many major art galleries over the years, so I know what to look for. I skimmed around until I saw paintings that took my fancy, contrasted the realism of the traditional scenes and portraits with the life exuded by the impressionists. My favourites were probably Canaletto's scenes of Venice.

The National Gallery overlooks Trafalgar Square, which was filled with people enjoying the warm sunny weather.

My next few museums were located closer to the hotel, in the Kensington area. I walked back to Leicester Square and caught the Tube to South Kensington. From there, it was a long walk up a tunnel to the Science Museum.

Of particular interest was the mathematics and computer section. I'm typing this on a tiny netbook, but the mechanical computers on display were massive in comparison. Then there's Ernie, the giant random number generating computer for the National Savings Lottery. Even the slide rules on display were fascinating for the description of how they worked, something the modern calculator populace doesn't learn anymore.

Babbage's brain was smaller, but still more sophisticated, than his inventions

I also viewed the aircraft section which includes a German rocketplane and the progenitor of the Spitfire on display. Space vehicles are actually on the bottom floor, including small rockets and a massive Apollo Moonlander module.

There is so much beautiful architecture devoted to religion around the world, but the Museum of History is notable for a gorgeous building for science. I actually found the building more interesting than the displays themselves, but that's because my knowledge of them exceeded the explanations of the displays. I can't wait to take Alex on a tour of the museum, or its counterparts in Australia, to see the dinosaur skeletons. The animatronic dinosaurs are pretty cool too.

I couldn't resist just one more museum, mainly because it was right next door. What good fortune I did go into the Victoria and Albert Museum because I think that I enjoyed it most of all.

The VA is a mishmash of objects from all sorts of time periods and regions of the world. Not all of it was of interest, but in walking to specific sections of the museum I often passed other displays that caught my eye.

Of special note for me was the incredible Islamic ceramic tiles and designs and the exquisite European furniture. I had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

By this time I was knackered. My feet were blistered, my back was sore and I was so tired that I could barely shuffle straight. I began my trudge up Cromwell Road toward Earls Court and my hotel. Along the way I passed the hotel we stayed in last time, along with the familiar white column porticoes of the apartment rows.

I picked up a sandwich for dinner, despite it not even being 5pm, knowing that once I entered the hotel I wouldn't have the energy to reemerge. Thankfully my room was ready, because I just about collapsed into it.

With only a few hours sleep over the past couple of days and half a day spent in an aircraft I had managed to see four museums and one gallery over a period of about 6 hours. And I felt like I had got something out of each of them. I think that's quite an achievement - maybe one that belongs in a museum.

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The old queen of the skies

The A380 may have stolen the Queen of the Skies title from Boeing's 747, but the venerable old aircraft retains the charm of an old world cruise liner compared to the clean modernity of the new titleholder. I was looking forward to catching a 747 again as I have had a great many adventures on them, including my very first overseas flight.

Boarding was a quick and painless affair. I was in the group after the young families and special needs passengers to board. The first thing I noted was how dated the interior looked in contrast with the A380, despite the fresh red fabric of the seats. I sat down on the same kind of seat that had taken me across Asia with Jetstar in more recent times, though this was fabric rather than leather. Definitely not as comfortable as the A380's award winning seat and certainly not as strokable without the gorgeous carbon fibre shell.

The seatback non-touch screen was small on squarish in contrast with that of its younger cousin's. It was still AV on demand and had one important advantage over the A380 - this time the Little Britain USA episodes were loaded! In fact, I managed to watch the entire series on this flight, which was a welcome distraction. The entertainment system needed a reboot in the middle of the flight, but fortunately the system had a fast forward facility.

Tom Baker, who humorously narrates Little Britain, also did the voiceover work for Qantas' inflight shopping advertisements, signing them off with a "Buy buy"! Obviously there are some LB fans associated with the airline - is that why they tried to merge with British Airways?

Extremely tired, I wrapped myself in a blanket and tried to make myself comfortable as we taxied out to the runway. Our takeoff was more forceful than in the A380, and the aircraft felt like it had more power throughout the flight.

For much of the flight from Singapore to about halfway across the Bay of Bengal the flight was a bit rough, as if we were driving across a bumpy road. We must have had the wind at our back because the captain announced that we were expecting to land up to an hour ahead of schedule.

I coped with the turbulence on this flight. There weren't too many "drops", which is what I really hate. The Bay of Bengal certainly wasn't as bad as I had expected.

At one point we skimmed through the tops of a high cloud bank and the aircraft's 900 km/h speed was never more apparent. That was an amazing sight, with the cloud tops illuminated by the light of the Moon.

Our route took us up along the coast of Malaysia, across the Bay of Bengal, over India and Pakistan, across southern Afghanistan, Iran, the across the Caspian Sea, the Ukraine and into Poland. India was full of light, in contrast with dark Afghanistan, where a single light from the ground became noteworthy. Cities were glittering jewels, sparkling snowflakes beneath us. Sometimes I though I recognised mountain ranges by they white snowlines. In the north of Pakistan, a line of storms flashing in the distance.

A couple of hours after take-off we were given a supper. I chose the Jalfrezi (sweet and sour) fish with rice and spiced pineapple, the flavour overwhelming my tired tastebuds, a so-so cucumber and bean salad and yam and sago pudding which contained palm sugar syrup - gula malacca. I just skimmed the top of it. I almost missed the meal due to sleep and must have missed the hot chocolate service later. Later we were handed snack bags containing water, an apple, Oreo biscuits, a Toblerone chocolate and Menthos sweets. Not very Australian!

I also accepted a fresh banana, which was handed out in the wee hours, and had a hot breakfast of omelette, bacon, sausage and tomato ragout, raisin danish, fruit salad and orange juice.

It's funny, but every time they served us a mealthe aircraft would strike some turbulence. But the seatbelt signs were never once illuminated. I like that!

Dawn came while we flew over the Ukraine. Beneath us was broken cloud - I sometimes mistook the shiny low clouds for lakes. We barely outran the dawn as we crossed Europe, Poland, over Berlin in Germany, until at last Rotterdam was beneath us and we were about to cross the English Channel. Our engines were generating contrail clouds. At one stage I saw another aircraft in the distance, the shadowed contrails looking like huge clouds of dirty smoke flowing out of the rear engine, a steam train in the sky.

The clouds broke once we hit the ocean and we began our descent across England. We followed the Thames and I had the most magnificent dawn views of London out of my window. The Millenium Dome, Tower Bridge, London skyline, Hyde Park, Earls Court, the twisting rows of houses, all bathed in orange gold light. The cabin crew manager described the sights over the PA.

We finally touched down into a quiet Heathrow airport. We must have been amongst the first to arrive as the place seemed deserted. There were, of course for Britain, still queues to pass through immigration, but at least our baggage was waiting for us.

Likewise, Terminal 1's Tube station was also devoid of staff. The ticket machines refused to take notes and notes was all that I, and most of the other passengers had. It was like being back in Sydney and very stupid for an international airport. Fortunately they had a credit/debit card facility in a few of the machines, so I used a Travelex Visa card in one to purchase a four pound ticket to Earls Court.

The train itself only went as far as Acton Town, where I had to change trains. I used to think that B was my lucky charm when it came to sunshine in Britain, but now I know that the Sun shines out of my gaseous arse. The train spent some of the time above ground and it was a beautiful day outside. The countryside looked fresh and green, with colourful flowers everywhere. While I stood on the platform at Acton Town I could hear loud birdsong.

We arrived at Earls Court and I soon found my hotel nearby. Now all I had to do was wait for my room.

After the prelude of fear, exhaustion and sadness, I really enjoyed my flight to London. The 747 wasn't as comfortable as the A380, wasn't as new, but it was superior in at least one way: its windows. They seemed larger than the A380, certainly squarer, and their design meant that there was less reflected internal light, making viewing at night superior.

The 747 is still a queen of the skies in my book. I'm not dreading the return journey quite so much now.

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