Trip Reports - Family Matters...

I like the fact that travel excites people. Especially kids.

This is probably not a trip report per se, given that it involves a flight I do twice a month. But this flight was different in the sense that I was flying with my sister and the 2 small humans she made. My niece and nephew have only been on a handful of flights in their short life and my sister flies a little bit for her work - but she is one of those vague, creative type of people who takes no notice of which airline she is on. She even told me that half the time she forgets to put her frequent flyer details into her booking.

If there is one sure way to tip a frequent flyer over the edge - then it is to profess that you fly quite regularly but don't quite have time to worry about frequent flyer programs and nor do you care. When my sister told me of this heinous act in an almost blissful state, I felt like slapping her silly.

Let me ask you all a question though. Does your family understand your addiction to FT? Do they have at least a small modicum of respect for what you know? For what you share? For the welts you have developed on your rear end as a result of all those MR's you did in coach when you were learning the ropes.

Mine don't. Until recently.

I will attempt to explain. As some of you know, I have 2 children of my own. Sadly, they still live at home (they are 9 and 11). My wife won't let me send them to boarding school. My sister, who lives in Australia, has 2 children as well (but I just told you that). She decided that she would come and visit us these past school holidays and given that my kids and her kids are like 4 peas in a pod, it seemed like a good idea at the time. They get on famously.

So my sister calls me.

"Can you organize the flights?" she asks
"Why, whats wrong with your arms, are they painted on? Have you forgotten how to use a telephone or the interweb?"
She ignores my sarcasm and continues
"But you know, you're one of those frequent flyer nerds and know all that stuff and besides, I don't have time"
"What's wrong with your husband?"
"He's useless"
We finally agreed on something.

Isn't it funny how your relatives suddenly fill with love and affection when the lure of premium travel for fish and chip money is suddenly to be had.

I could hear my mother barking in the background - so in the interest of my own sanity, plus the fact that my sister has in fact no clue when it comes to booking travel, decided to assume control of the project.

My niece and nephew hadn't been to Singapore before and I don't think they had ever flown on Emirates. So it was an easy decision. Found the fares that we needed, enrolled them all into Skywards, EK's loyalty program and because I am a good brother, decided to check on the possibility for upgrades to Business, using my dwindling supply of miles. Earn and burn baby. Earn and Burn. That's me.

No joy on the outbound from MEL to SIN. But lo and behold, the SIN-MEL sector cleared immediately. For all 3 of them. The flight from Melbourne leaves at 6pm so its not a bad flight, even if you are in economy. Or so someone told me.

I nearly forgot. I was going to be flying with them on the MEL to SIN leg because I had to be in town for work. Mercifully though, I wasn't down the back. More on that part later.

I think we left on a Monday. I can't quite remember. It's all a bit of a distant memory now. And I will admit, I drank heavily on the flight to cope with the stress that traveling with family causes me.

Arranged the EK car to come pick us up from my parents place. Piece of cake so far. Told my sister that she had to be ready and that I would wait all of 5-minutes.

I'd like you to indulge me for a minute and let me introduce you to my sisters kids. Her daughter (lets call her M for short) is nothing short of perfect. An angel. I'm not saying that because I am her Uncle, but because it is actually 100% true. I make no bones of the fact that she is my favorite niece. I was at my parents recently and my mother was cooking for a large gathering. My niece was in the kitchen helping. Washing up. Tidying up. Making coffees. Getting her Uncle more beer. If I wasn't related to her, and it wasn't illegal in 50 states across the US (except for Utah), I'd probably offer to marry her in a few more years.

But lets not get all creepy on each other.

She has a perfect nature. Always smiling. Always helpful. Always as cute as a button.

Then there is her brother. My nephew. Lets' call him J for short. Actually, that doesn't work very well. Lets call him Jake. Because that really is his name. It would be safe to say that Jake is nothing like his sister. Jake is not your typical 9 year old boy. For one, exercise to him, is sitting down having 2 meals one after the other. He has no interest in sport. He has no interest in video games. Girls have not yet hit his radar. Thankfully.

I keep telling my sister that he will probably either end up being Mark Zuckerberg famous. Or in jail. There will be no in between. For many years, I couldn't understand the child. I thought my sister had taught him a new language via a cheap deal on Rosetta Stone. He sort of grunted. And he was always in this fixated like trance.

Whenever I would ask my sister about him, she was most always holding a glass of wine in her hand, and when the questioning would turn from her model daughter to her slightly disturbed son, she would down the glass of Chardonnay quicker than a college student at a frat party drinking competition. And attempt to then change the subject.

Like a lot of little kids, my nephew suffers asthma. He has been in and out of hospital and over the last few years things have settled down for the most part. He is however, still on strong medication. My sister blames his insatiable appetite on the drugs he takes - which is the subject of much consternation within the Eightblack family.

My own mother thinks nothing of it and like all good Grandmothers, believes kids are happiest when they are eating ice-cream at 7am in the morning.

He has turned into a chunky kid. My Dad calls it puppy fat and blames my mother. My brother in law blames my sister, because she is, I will admit, an exceptional cook. My sister often says that as a result of the asthma medication he has developed a fast acting thyroid.

"No he hasn't. He has developed a fast acting mouth" I tell her

Why is it that people who talk about weight issues blame things like thyroids. I have no idea personally what a thyroid is. Or does. Nor do I care. My mother-in-law once said that her weight is because all the women in her family were big boned.

I had to bite my lip.

"As in dinosaur big boned", I said to myself
"What did you say?" my mother in law barked
"Nothing. Nothing" I smirked

Lets move on shall we. Because one day my wife is going to read all of this and then I will be living in a trailer park, in the middle of Michigan, dependent on the good nature of every FT'er in the region. The only mileage running I will be doing is to the local Costco.

So, there we were. In an Emirates car, being whisked to the MEL airport. Kids chattering away, sister on the phone to some clingy client and me in the front, trying to forget that I now was a part of a traveling group. Which I hate.

My sister is different to me in the sense that she trusts her own kids to pack their own clothes. Not in a million years would I allow this. We get out of the car at the airport kerb and I help retrieve the luggage. I say to Jake, where's your bag? He points to a small wheelie. I grab it and nearly fling it over my shoulder due to the fact that it weighed next to nothing.

"What's in here, anything?"
"Not much" he says
"Did you bring any clothes?"
"Yes, my swimming trunks"
"Anything else?"
"Nope"

I suppose to a 9 year old boy, the clothes he is wearing plus swimming trunks is all he needs. Even if he is going away for 10-days.

Check in was effortless. Except for the fact that the MEL staff, who sadly know me quite well, asked me who these people were who had lined up behind me.

"My sister and her kids" I proffer
The check in agent smiles at my angel of a niece. Then she sees my nephew, who is wanting to see what happens when you jump up and down on the baggage scales. Continuously. She looks away in fear.

"He's a ball of fun, isn't he" the polite agent says
"No, is isn't. He's a bugger of a kid"
She pretends not to hear
My sister, at this point, is screaming as only a 40-something mother of 2-kids traveling solo can do. Her son, knowing full well his mothers mental limits, is fully aware that she is nowhere near breaking point and then changes the subject and says "I'm hungry". Just for something different.

I am handed my boarding pass with the signature of the promised land on the right hand side. Seat 1A. My sister and her kids are in another time-zone away, somewhere down the back on the 777-300ER. She thinks nothing of it because would you believe, she's never travelled business class and had already mentally prepared herself for the fact that she was in for a long-haul ride with her own 2 kids. Stuck in economy. I had already told her that I had done all I could and that there were no Business Class seats left. Besides, she was thankful that the return flight from SIN was already confirmed in "the big seats" - as this is a much tougher flight with kids as it's an overnighter.

We head towards the Emirates lounge, which is one of my favorite lounges in the EK network. Food is excellent, view of the airport wonderful. And the champagne and beer is always bitterly cold. And as a result of me waving my arms one day, they have installed a second plasma, so when the Australian football is on, you can stand in the dining room, drink beer and yell at the TV. Which is really my idea of a perfect day. One day, I had a stand up ding dong in the lounge with my unreasonable wife because my team were playing and it was a close match. Hair raising close. They had called for boarding more than once and my wife was yelling at me to get moving. Like most Aussie football mad males, I ignored the threats from any of the females in the lounge. Including the acidic tongue from my wife. And the EK staff. Perhaps we can discuss this at another time.

Anyway, I say to my sister that I will do what I can to ask about lounge access for them all. EK is one of those airlines which has gone on a militant rampage when it comes to lounge access. It is strictly ONE guest if you are Gold. Kids are something of an anomaly. Strictly speaking, I had 3 guests. But I thought I would try my luck.

Turns out that the Lounge Dragon wasn't a dragon at all. But a Princess. She was delightful and welcomed us in like an Italian aunt, who hadn't seen us for years.

I hand over my boarding pass. Plus my sisters and her kids.

She looks puzzled.

"Why haven't they been upgraded?" she demands of me
"I have no idea, I did ask" I say rather innocently

She starts to wave the boarding passes for the masses in front of her colleague, who looks equally perplexed

"Leave this with me" she insists and motions us in.

My sister immediately comments on the "bling" factor. She is an interior designer by trade and to her, the beige and brown and blingtastic features scattered thru the lounge made her want to vomit. I suggested she would feel better if she had a drink.

She agreed.

My nephew headed for the food. My niece for the chocolate supply. It was Easter so Emirates had decided to fill a large glass bowl with easter eggs. That was their mistake.

Moments later, the Lounge Princess appears, clutching a swag of new boarding passes. She beams with a sense of true accomplishment.

"I talked the load controller into releasing some seats for your sister and kids", she smiles
"We gave your sister one on the house, and for the kids, we used your miles", she continues.

We thank her profusely and there is much back slapping all round. I think my nephew chugs a Heineken to celebrate.

I smiled. Sort of.

That's family for you. A drag on your mileage balance like a boat anchor.

But we were all happy. I was happy that EK went above and beyond and helped us out. Kids were happy that they were riding up front. And sister happy that she wasn't jammed down the back with 310 other people, testing the limits of a 3-4-3 coach seating layout with 2 kids. Even with the worlds best IFE, it's not pleasant.

Boarding time comes and I am the only one in F. Sister and her kids break left when we get to the gate and my niece asks her mother "Where's Uncle Simon going?"

My sister tells her own daughter that I am a frequent flyer geek and that I get to sit somewhere else.

Before we take off, both kids come and visit me in F and sit in the Suite and have their photo taken. My sister is determined to make my journey as unpleasant as possible and promptly tells the Purser that we are all related (they are in row 6, which is immediately behind the F curtain).

For a brief moment, after take-off, I forget where I am and as I stare off into the evening distance, with the big GE engines propelling the wide-body effortlessly across the Victorian countryside, I think to myself flying never bores me. Not even a little bit.

Then, I am rudely startled by a blinking light and equally rude beeping on my handset controller for the IFE.

"Call from Seat 6E" flashes the display

Bugger me, it's the in-seat phone system, I say to myself. It is my sister. And her impatient offspring.

She asks me "Do you miss us?"
"Er no, we're not yet at cruising altitude"
"Are you going to visit us and talk to us all?"
"Wasn't planning to" I say quite honestly
"And besides, I'm not allowed back past the curtain. Something about safety. I think I read it somewhere on the back of the safety card".
"Bulldust" my sister barks. Or the Aussie equivalent of the word. You know what I mean.

Moments later, an eager to please crew member appears and offers me a glass of Dom. It would be rude not to accept, so I simply say yes, just leave the bottle. It will be much easier for you in the end. Which was true. She asks would I like another glass so I can share a drink with my sister.

The Purser then appears and performs the obligatory smoke blowing up your bottom routine, that they typically have to do with all their elite customers. She apologizes that my sister can't join me in the F cabin, but I could visit her as much as I want, and do not hesitate to ask of there was anything I or they needed.

How about a sedative. But then I remembered the onboard medication. Called alcohol. I decided to take matters in my own hands.

So the trip went something like this. Every 5-minutes or so, the phone would ring. It was only ever one of 3 people. I was up and down like a brides nightie.

I would go back and visit the family at their every beck and call. My sister was drinking everything offered to her. We went through a very cheeky half-bottle of wonderful Chateau Rieussec 2003. I love desert wine. Especially the french stuff. For those of you who don't know, this great wine is liquid gold. And you get drunk from the ankles up. The bad thing is you don't realize it until its too late. But you've got 7 hours to get over the effects.

The kids as you would expect, were having a great time. Niece was in seventh heaven with the IFE. But early on in the flight, my nephew had a small meltdown and was waving his arms in a fit of rage. I tried to calm him down and enquire about the state of distress he was in.

"Because I keep pressing the button on the side of the seat with the little knife and fork symbol with the plate in the middle. But no food is coming" he says to me indignantly.

Even I have a little chuckle.

"Jakey, that's to move the seat into an upright position, so you can be ready to eat" I say trying to keep a straight face
"But I am ready to eat and I want something now" he demands
"I can see that"

The F word was spewing rapidly from his mouth at this point. My sister pretends not to hear. Meanwhile the crew are pulling every available meal they can find and marching out with tray after tray. He asks me if all the food was free. I tell him yes. He then decides to redouble his eating habits and I think at one point, removed his pants and t-shirt and was sitting there in his underwear, because he needed more room to move his arms.

Or something like that.

After we have fed the child, my sister then turns to me and says we need to talk. She has that glazed look in her eyes. This can't be good, I mutter to myself.

"Let me grab another drink", I tell her.

Which is what I suggest you all do before I tell you the next bit…more in a mo…

If there is one sure way to tip a frequent flyer over the edge - then it is to profess that you fly quite regularly but don't quite have time to worry about frequent flyer programs and nor do you care. When my sister told me of this heinous act in an almost blissful state, I felt like slapping her silly.

A new coworker told me earlier this week that her entire family flies from the US to the Middle East in paid EK J several times a year, yet none of them have EK FF accounts. Needless to say, I nearly burst into tears.

Anyways back on topic, thanks for a great laugh on this boring Friday night. Looking forward to the rest!

It's Saturday afternoon and I've been dragged into work for a few hours. Needless to say, this its not desired:rolleyes:

Opening FT and finding a new EIGHTBLACK trip report has made everything well again!!

Yes. Another report from Eightblack:) hope to see updates regularly^

"I need to talk to you about the sleeping arrangements", my sister informs me
"Really" I respond, as a matter of factly as possible
"Yes" she says

At this point, slightly disturbing thoughts started popping through my small brain. But it's the weekend and we really don't need to have that sort of a conversation right now.

My sister continues…"We've had to separate Jake and his sister from sleeping in the same room"

You see, they used to share a room in their small Victorian house in Melbourne. But as a result of my young nephews slightly disturbing habits, his sister promptly complained to her parents and moved.

Most parents of small boys will tackle this issue at some point. If you're like my own parents, you will ignore it completely. There is no delicate way to explain it. But I will try. Just this once.

My nephew, bless his heart, has discovered that it is possible to treat his body like a small amusement park. After both his parents have tired of asking him to go to sleep, they simply implode and lock themselves in the kitchen with a wine opener and 2 glasses. Young Jake will eventually haul himself to bed and then proceed to play wack-a-mole until the wee hours of the morning. All I will say at this point, that at 9-years of age, playing wack-a-mole is really quite harmless. The guys reading this will understand. I hope.

He is also a challenge to put to bed in the first place. It must run in my side of the family. My mother, even at her late stage in life, sleeps with one eye open in case she misses something. My sister will often work until 2 or 3 in the morning, and then wake up at 5am to go to work. Or travel somewhere. To be honest, I am the same. I think sleep is terribly overrated.

Anyway.

My sister, who has tried to reason with her young son and his obsession, now pretends to ignore this rather self serving habit her child has developed and like all parents in the same boat, convinces herself that it is something that he will simply grow out of.

Now when she enters his room at night, she sounds like a SWAT team leader, doing a tactical entry maneuver.

"Jake" she barks
"Show me your hands"
There is a muffled ruffling of the sheets and a few seconds later, a sheepish response that it is now, quite safe to enter
She tells me that he has his hands on his face, with a cheeky sort of a grin, looking out over the top of the sheet.

As my sister was regaling me of this whole sordid series of events, the crew were trying to clear the main meal in the forward J cabin. I was standing in the doorway (between J and F). Then it got awfully quiet all of a sudden. I think most of the small front J cabin had heard a word here. A word there. It all made life a tad uncomfortable. I suddenly had visions of my adventurous nephew performing calisthenics on himself while we were mid air.

I glanced across at him. He knew we were talking about him. Which is nothing strange. He smiled back. You know, that smiling assassin type of smile.

My sister assured me that no, they had managed to safely contain him to performing these acts on himself when it was sleep time. Thank god…

If I'm honest, I was now somewhat less enthused about my only sibling and her kids coming to stay for the next 10-days. For one, we live in an apartment. The kids were going to have to share rooms. We probably didn't need the added stress of having to explain to our own kids why their cousin had his hands down the front of his pajamas most nights.

I looked across to one of the IFE screens which had the moving map running. 5 and a half hours to go. I decided to go back to the sanctuary of F and lock the doors to the Suite.

Man this was going to be a long flight…

Enjoying the read!

My sister assured me that no, they had managed to safely contain him to performing these acts on himself when it was sleep time. Thank god… Doesn't bode well for the redeye home!

Great to see more tales of the adventures of the eightblack clan!
Look forward to the next installment...

I post this before the read. My bedtime story tonight!

What a treat to discover a new eightblack TR this morning.
Your sagas are one of the highlights of FT... always entertaining with some absolutely classic lines.


"What's wrong with your husband?"
"He's useless"
We finally agreed on something.
:D

Looking forward to the next chapter. Thanks for writing and posting! ^

Loving this latest installment! :D^

I can't wait for the remainder. This is sure to be epic!

Too funny. I am reading the really funny bits aloud to Mr. halfcape and he is snickering.

Eightblack is back! Hihoeee. ^

Yay, another eightblack report! at least, up until I started part 2.:eek:

What's wrong with giving the Damien wannabe a choice: straighten up and learn discretion or be introduced to the "Board of Education"?

Love it!
More, please
Better you than me ;-)

You'll be pleased to know that as the flight wore on, so did the energy of the entire family onboard. I think I might have actually got to watch a movie or two. Anyway, it got me thinking. Without sounding silly, I have done this flight probably 100 times - literally. For the past 2 and half years, I have been shuttling back and forth between Singapore and Melbourne at least twice a month, sometimes more.

I catch this flight with the same monotony as a person who might fly between MEL and SYD twice a month. The routine is exactly the same whether or not you are flying domestic or international - the destination is all that's different.

Sadly, I have started to recognize some of the crew. And they have recognized me.

The thing I love about living in Singapore is the efficiency of the airport, whether you are departing or arriving. I can jump off an EK flight, bolt to Immigration, swipe my passport and press my thumb on the fingerprint machine and boom, I'm in a cab in under 10-mins. Soup to nuts. If I have luggage, I know I'm not going to have to wait more than 12-minutes, because that's the stipulation the government put on the airport operator to get the first bags on the belt.

As soon as the plane docks, the clock starts. Priority bags have to be unloaded and if the first bag isn't popping its head out on the conveyor in under the target time - all hell breaks loose and there is a lot of arm waving and yelling into cheap walkie talkies. I think they even administer a damn good thrashing to someone if the problem cant be explained. Which if you ask me, is the way all airports should work.

I know some of you will say "but when I was in Singapore last - the bags took for ages". That would be the exception not the rule. I've been going in and out for 15-years and I will say hands down, Changi has it nailed.

Security can "appear" slack though. When I say slack, it's probably best that you don't "test" your theory. Or this observation. A lot of visitors think that when they visit Singapore for the first time, because of our rather strict views on the importation of drugs, they will be pulled aside into a small room and a someone with a rectal probe will have their way with them.

We only do that to New Zealanders. (I kid. I kid)

Let me ask the regulars who visit here though. When was the last time you had to take your bags over to a room and unpack the contents? Or when was the last time you were in Singapore and a security guard gave you a pat down until "they met resistance". What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway. What resistance? I'm half Asian. He's going to need more than a metal detector before he finds anything down there. But I digress. We didn't come here today to talk about my genetic deficiencies did we? Right then, moving on.

So I cant recall the last time I had to scan my bags at customs, can you? And if you do, it's a simple throw your bag on the belt and 10-seconds later you're on your way. Half the time the 2 guys working the machine aren't even looking at the screen. They're complaining to each other about their wives.

So why don't more people try and do the wrong thing and "smuggle" stuff in? Well some do. But IF you get caught, the system doesn't believe in rehabilitation. It believes in deterring. As in break the law, go to jail. Break the law big time, call a priest. And say goodbye. As in Adios Amigos.

While Singapore isn't on Amnesty Internationals christmas card list, you've got to give it to them. It's a safe city. By any means.

Right on cue then, our bags appeared in the first wave, we loaded up a cart and headed for the door. As you would expect, my young nephew was hungry but we persuaded him to hold on until we got home. The nice EK driver was waiting and 22-mins later, we pulled into our condo.

This is where the wheels fell off the proverbial chariot. Our kids and my niece and nephew hadn't seen each other for a little while. 6-months perhaps. There was much hugging, screaming, wrestling, crying and everything in between. I thought the kids would calm down within a half hour (as it was well after midnight local time).

I said to my wife and sister that " I could no more" and went to bed. After all, it was a hard trip. Being the only one in F on EK, is a right chore. I needed another lie down.

Stupidly, my wife and sister agreed to allow the kids to sleep all together in the living room. This is like saying to a person with a drinking problem that they can sleep in the wine cellar. It always ends poorly.

So 1am came and went. Kids still howling.

2am ticked over. More howling, although this time it was howling with a sense of urgency as one of the small humans found a bottle of soda and they promptly consumed the whole thing. Just what we needed, a sugar rush at 2am

Every 15-minutes or so I could hear either my wife or sister get up out of bed, yell at whichever kid was jumping off the top of the cupboard and then return to their room. I was dead to the world at this point because I had made a wise decision just after midnight to consume a mild sedative called Ambien.

3am arrived. The screaming even woke me. Apparently. Both wife and sister were now on full song (not pretty I will tell you) hurling abuse in stereo at which ever child had not run away and hid under the couch. It seemed to work.

And that's how it pretty much went for the next week and a half. I honestly don't know how people cope with 4 kids. I reckon as soon as you have more kids than arms, you're in trouble.

Our little Filipino housekeeper was working like an Egyptian slave. The washing machine nearly threw a bearing. And we were buying more food than the UN.

Some of you may not quite understand the next part - and if you don't think yourself lucky. Well, perhaps. My sister and I get on famously. We didn't used to. But something changed in our late teens and all of a sudden I quite forgot why I hated her so much. My old man reckons it was because I was trying to sleep with all her friends. I would have been grateful if but one of them had agreed - I didn't need all of them.

But while we may get on well now as adults - and we are blessed that our kids all get on, living with each other again in our forties is another matter entirely. Do me a favor will you. Call your sister or your brother right now and ask them if they want to come and stay for the next 10-days with their kids. I bet 90% of you don't even finish dialing the number!!

See, I told you.

Add to that the fact that we live in an apartment. Not a house. Thankfully, we have 4 bathrooms. And yes, we have hired help. But so does everyone in Singapore.

After day 3, people were getting a little testy. I also work from home. Which made things somewhat awkward. Like conference calls. I'd be on the phone, judiciously trying to operate the "mute" button, but sometimes I wouldn't be quick enough and you'd hear

"Mom, Jake didn't flush the toilet and what he did in there is disgusting. He needs to see a Doctor…" or
"Mom, the boys keep mooning us" or
"Mom, the boys are looking at naked girls on the computer. I think it's the website Dad looks at all the time"

Or something like that.

Thankfully though, my sister was somewhat organized and one day, we decided to take the 4 brats to Universal Studios. It's an amusement park of sorts, built and operated by the same Universal Studio people in the US of A. I think. Regrettably I decided to tag along. My kids had been. Their cousins obviously not. Nor had I.

My son was determined to take me on some sort of roller-coaster. Which to be honest, I'm not a huge fan of. I mean, they're ok. I think it's called Battlestar Galactica. And there are 2 separate rides. One is where you sit down like normal, and belt yourself in. The other one is where your feet dangle. Both are hideous.

When they first built Resort World Sentosa - they were open not less than a week when the roller-coaster was shut down. The official statement by some PR pony at Universal was that "it was a technical problem and that we will only open the ride when the cause and solution can be found".

I thought that when this happened - I wouldn't bother riding it until they had let quite a few excited mainland Chinese or Japanese tourists ride the thing because when it inevitably launched itself 300 meters into an abyss, with their occupants all screaming like schoolgirls, (with their fingers jammed down hard on the auto button on their cameras), you would at least know with all those visitors onboard, there would be plenty of photographic evidence for the investigators to comb thru. As well as arms. And limbs. And dentures. At least you knew that by the time the roller-coaster hit whatever it was going to hit after it derailed - that the screaming would in fact, be real.

My sister is a real wuss. I mean, screams when you turn the light off in the room. The woman needs therapy. She reckons it was because I once put her in one of those head to toe sleeping bags when we were kids, and zippered the thing shut. Sisters are such babies.

Anyway.

We get to the Battlestar Galactica thing. The kids all run like mad to join the queue. My sister is not looking forward to the event at all. Our thoughtful children insisted that we do both rides. The normal one. And the the feet hanging one.

If you Google "Battlestar Galactica Singapore Crazy 40+ something Australian Female" you are sure to see her picture. My silly sibling was hysterical. Her angel of a daughter was trying to calm her down, patting her on her leg as we were upside down, defying gravity and hurling along at a decent clip. The boys, as you would expect, thought this this was the funniest thing they had ever seen in their short lives.

And the language. Even I blushed…

I managed to escape the rest of the day under the pretense of work. She and the kids arrived home several hours later, and upon entering our place, she grabbed a bottle of white and necked the thing in well under 90-seconds.

I didn't blame her one bit. 4 kids. A week to go.

A bit more to come...

:D :D ^

Love the TR as usual! :)

All the child-raising advice I need is here on FT, thanks to eightblack!

This July we have actually planned to have a houseful of grandkids for week.......girls age 12 and 9 and 1 plus boy age 4. I'm willing to use points to send as many as possible on some all day 16-hour Southwest 10-connection flight path from OKC-DAL-SAT-HOU-MSY-BNA-PHX-LAS-LAX-SFO-SMF-DEN-MDW-MCI-STL-TUL*, and unfairly test the always friendly SW flight attendants.

(*fyi--the laugh is that OKC and TUL are about 90 miles apart)

peersteve,
That's cruel! As someone who survived a 3 stop trip to ATL via TUL, DAL and AUS, I don't wish that on anyone. I can't imagine what a 10 stop trip would be like.

That said, it may be cheaper than a babysitter ;) ^

Great to read another eightblack report! keep 'm coming! :D

As always, another masterpiece from you, Simon. I don't know how you manage to survive it all... (though I'm sure liberal injections of champagne whilst in an EK F suite certainly help)

Cant wait for the next post, as always I greatly enjoy your writings Eightblack!

I think you just made yourself the official chronicle-r of OzFest 2012 :D

...Not going by his past TRs, but it's worth a try! Come on eightblack!

...Not going by his past TRs, but it's worth a try! Come on eightblack!

Yes, I will - I promise.

Actually, when I think of it, the week with my sister and her kids was a bit of a blur. I know one thing. I didn't get much work done. The other thing I know is that school holidays at our place are always filled with tension.

I will explain.

Sometimes, it's better to have more kids than less. They keep each other occupied. And as long as you feed them, and give them money, they for the most part can survive. Taking showers and brushing teeth (2 of my wife's mandatory rules) are clearly optional on holidays though. My own son would stay in the same clothes for 3-weeks if you let him.

His mother will scream at him to put his pajamas on for hours. When he senses that she is about to implode, he simply stands up, pulls his shorts down and then says, "there - I'm done". This then tips her right over the edge. He would sleep in boxer shorts and the same t-shirt until they disintegrated.

My son has a mate called Harry. While his parents are Aussies, he was actually born in Singapore, so this is home to him. The child often appears on our doorstop on a Friday night, with nothing more than the clothes on his back. Once, he did arrive with a small backpack, but it had nothing in it. Quite why he was carrying it was beyond me.

"Where's your shoes Harry?"
"Didn't bring them?"
"What about your toothbrush and a comb?"
"Nope"
"Why not?"
"Because I use the airline ones you have in the spare bathroom"
"Really?"
"Yes"

He then looked at me with that look that only a young male can produce, which basically is "why are fathers such morons".

Sometimes I wish I was 11 again…

And that's the thing about being an FT'er. I don't know about your place, but we have enough shampoo, conditioner, toothbrushes and shaving cream to last us well into the next millennium. My wife wants me to see someone about my addiction to collecting amenity kits. And stealing everything from a hotel room.

So we manage to survive the week with the extended family and they finally head home. "The Big Seats", as my daughter affectionately refers to Business Class, are once again, confirmed for my sister, niece and nephew.

As they were leaving, my sister turns to me and says, "you know what, I'm going to start to pay more attention to my frequent flyer accounts now".

I nearly had a little cry. Tears started to well up in my eyes. Not because she was leaving. But because some of my airline geekiness had finally rubbed off on her and she could at last, see the point to it all.

But this wasn't (or isn't the end). We had but another week to survive.

Long before my sister and her kids decided to visit, my daughter had insisted that because my son had visited his birth place last Christmas, that she too wanted to see where she was born. Which was Sydney. My wife, who is suffering island fever in Singapore, wanted any excuse to get out of the place so in one foul swoop of the tongue she was barking instructions at me yet again to "make it happen".

I sighed.

More Emirates points down the drain. 2 more seats procured and the Eightblack women satisfied (for the moment).

Then I thought for a moment, what the hell are we supposed to do while they go off galavanting around Australia. Certainly not sit here in Singapore, and babysit 15-different type of animals.

So I said to my son...

"Lets go somewhere on our own"
"Where" he grunted
"I don't know, what about Hong Kong?"
"Do they have video games there?"
"Probably"
"Are you going to book a cheap hotel again, like you did last holidays"
"Probably. Just to annoy you"

He thought for a moment.

I said, well, you can stay here or come with me.

Like I've told you before, kids when faced with the decision to stay at home on their own or go somewhere for an extended time, will always follow the money. He said, fine, I'll come.

I grabbed a laptop and within minutes, had burned though some UA miles to find us 2 seats on SQ. Tried to get the A380, but I was so fearful that the UA website would crash, simply agreed to whatever it spat back at me. Then fired up Hyatt.com and burned thru some of their points to find us a room at the Hyatt Regency (just behind Nathan Rd) on Kowloon side.

Truth be told, I needed to go to HKG for work - so it worked out fine. And my son had never been to Honkers before, and it is my favorite Asian city. There's something about that impatient Cantonese attitude that I find refreshing. Calming almost. I like the hustle and bustle of it all. I like the hotels. I like the Harbour. I like it at night. I don't know quite why. I just do.

Besides, I thought it would be good to spend some one-on-one time with my first born.

For those fathers out there, maybe this will resonate.

Apart from being addicted to anything with a remote control and a video console, my son has become infatuated with what I like to call "yet another small slice of what's wrong with America".

Now I say this affectionately. One, because my wife is American. And two, because one day the INS may read this and decide to revoke my green card.

He has taken to watching WWE. All the time. He cant get enough of it. For those of you who are blissfully unaware what WWE is, it stands for World Wrestling Entertainment. You know those guys who pretend to pulverize each other, jump off ropes and bounce off each others bodies like they were inflated with helium. They bang each other over the head with chairs, ironing boards and wear a lot of spandex with socks shoved down the front to stop the women laughing at them.

Sadly, it is (or has become) a global phenomenon. From Wikipedia, the source of truth for everything in the universe…

"It is currently the largest professional wrestling promotion in the world, reaching 13-million viewers in the U.S. and broadcasting its shows in 30 languages to more than 145 countries. It promotes under two brands, known as Raw and SmackDown"

Staggeringly, it generates revenue of half a billion dollars a year. I just about swallowed the entire Heineken bottle when I read this.

At every available moment, my son asks...

"Dad, do you want me to show you a figure four leg lock?"
"No, go away"
"But its really cool"
"No its not"
"It wont hurt"
"Really?"
"That's what your mother said when she booked me in for a vasectomy…"
"What's that"
"Never mind"

In search of any victims, he will plead with his sister or mother to be his guinea pig. Once, in desperation, he asked our Filipino housekeeper if he could practice on her, but she thought he said something else, and she promptly ran into her room and locked the door.

Wisely, we have forbidden him to use his sister as a crash test dummy for his latest moves. Not because we think he might hurt our beloved second child, but because the small human has a scream on her which could shatter glass. In Malaysia.

Finally, after hours of begging, I gave in and said, fine, show me what you've got.

Figure four leg-lock my a$$

Because I weigh twice as much as my son, I thought I would be kind and lie down to give him a chance. Seconds later, I'm looking at my own testicles, with one leg beside my ear. The room was filled with a blood curdling scream. Which would have been ok, bar for the fact that the scream was emanating from my own mouth. It was horrific.

Howls of laughter ensued by my unsympathetic wife and daughter. And a look of almost pride and a sense of accomplishment by number one son. Even the cat was snickering at the amusement of it all.

When I managed to get off the floor, I told the child that if he ever pulled a stunt like that again, I would see to it that he never saw his twelfth birthday.

But this WWE stuff became on obsession with our first born. He would watch it morning, day and night. Every cent of his allowance was spent on these silly videos.

And he took to attacking me at every opportune moment.

Do you remember those classic Pink Panther movies? You know the ones with Peter Sellers and his trusty man-servant Cato. Sellers would instruct Cato to attack him anytime, anywhere. No matter what he said at the time. Well, my idiot son has turned into a mini-version of this half-crazed oriental attacking ninja.

Thankfully, I can still get a few punches in. Sometimes they connect, which causes the boy to redouble his efforts.

Anyway, where were we? Right, HKG. I almost forgot.

So we land in the worlds most vertical city and catch the airport express to Kowloon. Son complains bitterly at the whole public transport thing. Trust me I tell him. "You try telling a Cantonese cab driver that you want to go to the Hyatt Regency in Tsim Sha Tsui". I can promise you that your Cantonese will be about as good as his English and unless you don't want to end up in the New Territories you should stick with your old man.

He begrudgingly agrees.

Then came time for deciding what exactly we should do while we in the city which literally means "fragrant harbor". Before I could engage in a conversation with the small human, he's waving both arms in horror as he can't seem to find the DVD player in the room.

"Stiff", I say
"There isn't one. You'll have to watch TV"
He is appalled. Acts like someone has cut off his oxygen supply
"But I bought all my WWE videos" he pleads
I roll my eyes.

Within minutes, he's scouring the hotel directory. A scream of glee when he finds the bit about the hotel being able to provide DVD players. He's on the phone quicker than a phone company telemarketer out of the Philippines and is barking instructions to the hapless Hyatt operator that it is a matter of life and death and that the DVD player is to be delivered as quickly as possible.

Money is no object he yells. Except for the fact that he is all of eleven. And to him, money comes out of an ATM. Or my pocket.

He hangs up with the words "Hurry. Quicker"

So he sits there for the next few hours while I attempt to do some work. I insist that he is not going to sit in a hotel room watching moronic videos all day and night of men in spandex pretending to beat each other up.

I start throwing suggestions to him…

"What about Disneyland?" I exclaim
"Nope" he grunts
"What about we go shopping?"
"What for?"
"Anything"
"Like what?"

Then I remember the nice man at reception telling us about a place called Ocean Park. It is a theme park. With lots or rides. Perfect for prepubescent males. And their fathers.

His eyebrows start to raise, just slightly.

"Then what about Ocean Park?"
"Ok"
"So you'll go?"
"Yes"

He grabs an iPad thingy and looks it up for himself. Slowly, the becomes more and more interested. So minutes later, he has me on their website booking tickets because he decided in all of 5 milliseconds that it would be best if we got there at sparrows (an Aussie saying meaning "when the birds get up")

Or something like that.

I start to humor him

Look, it says on the website that you can catch a bus.

He turns and gives me the bird
"So I take it from that - that a bus is out?"
"Yes"
"Ok, what about the train?"
"Dad, stop being a loser, were taking a cab"

The next morning, we wake to a cloud filled sky and that Asian drizzle. It doesn't look good. Son is unperturbed by the inclement weather and decides that we should set off as early as we can. Much to my dismay. I had glanced at the Ocean Park website the night before and sadly discovered that there were 4 roller-coasters. Number one son was insisting that I go on everyone with him. To be honest, I would have been happy to sit in a bar and drink and waved through the window.

Anyway.

We get there and there is not a soul in sight. I felt like Chevy Chase in one of those silly Griswold family vacation movies, where he takes his long suffering wife and kids to something called Wally's World, only to arrive and the place is shut.

But sadly, and as my luck would have it, it wasn't shut at all. We were just there before the gates opened. As soon as the staff rolled up and let us though, we set off on what seemed like a 5-mile hike to get to where all the rides were. For those of you who haven't been there before, this place is huge. By any standards. Not to mention the fact that it is carved out into a hill in the middle of Hong Kong. Well not the middle. But you get the idea.

Son insists on going on something called the Hair Raiser. It's a newish looking roller-coaster where you sit in normally, and these rather alarming looking claw type bars come down on top of you, on top of which, they buckle it further with a seat-belt. It is there for the illusion of safety.

Because we were the first ones there, we were also the only ones on the ride. As in only 2 of us. My foolish child insists we sit at the very front. The ride attendants just smile and pretend not to speak english. I swear I thought I heard one of them say to the other something about putting the ride in test mode.

To an 11-year old, pulling 4G's (or being subjected to I should say) is kids play. But for an old, tired fuselage like mine, it was agonizing. I actually screamed like a girl for the entire time I was on the thing. Number one son laughed hysterically. See, I'll even show you a picture as proof that I don't make all this stuff up.

http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5096/hairraiser.jpg[

I staggered off the thing, hurling abuse at the ride operator and hoping that he was struck by lightening quite soon. Am then dragged off to another ride, which was worse, because it was where your feet dangled and you literally felt like you were being hurled through the air. After about an hour of going on aptly named attractions such as The Flash, The Mine Train, and The Raging River, I felt like puking.

I thought the Raging River was going to be one of those gentle, water type rides, where you were gently carried along the man made canals in a faux canoe. No such luck. Like all of these damn things it starts out calmly. Then all of a sudden, you find yourself going vertical at an alarming rate of knots. Then the sun disappears, you black out and hurtle towards the bottom. See, like this.

http://img840.imageshack.us/img840/4553/waterride.jpg

Son then says, oh look we should go on this ride, called The Abyss.

Now call me old fashioned, but I kind of think that amusement parks should provide exactly what is says on the box. Which is amusement. Not terror and fear.

The Abyss. Good lord. It's one of those things which you strap yourself in and the smiling ride operator wishes you a nice time. The seating part is attached to a hydraulic ram which raises you up in the air. It does this all relatively calmly. Until it gets to the top which feels like 400-feet from the ground. Then without warning, it drops like a friggin' stone. My underwear got sucked into my spleen. Yet again, more screams of terror. From me. And again we were the only ones of the silly thing. When it finished, I had body fluids seeping out of every opening in my body. I was trying to reach for my son to perform a Homer choke on him but he yelled to the moron controlling the thing to "do it again" but to give it the beans this time.

At this point, I think I had a little cry.

In fact, I know I did.

By noon, we were both spent. I could hardly walk. My walnuts were still stuck to the insides of my eardrums, my neck was killing me and I was walking like John Wayne. After a prostate exam.

It wasn't pretty. I demanded that we go home. To the quiet sanctuary of the Hyatt. And beer.

Which brings me neatly to the actual end of this story. School holidays. Don't start me.

Safe travels.

Thanks EightBlack. Good one again!

[
And that's the thing about being an FT'er. I don't know about your place, but we have enough shampoo, conditioner, toothbrushes and shaving cream to last us well into the next millennium. My wife wants me to see someone about my addiction to collecting amenity kits. And stealing everything from a hotel room.


Another masterpiece as always from yourself! My other half says the same to me about the above habits, especially as I refuse to open most of the amenity kits!

Great pics of your kid on the rides with you, a true generation gap highlighted !
Hope the SQ flights were good, even though they still ve those awful recliners on some of the 777s which make EK's old J seats look like a heavenly throne! Having said that, I do like the old EK seats, I did lose my J virginity on them!

Absolutely Hilarious. The pictures are magnificent! Great report like always.

Great ending and hilarious photos!!! Thanks for sharing!

Another masterpiece! Many thanks, eightblack!

To an 11-year old, pulling 4G's (or being subjected to I should say) is kids play. But for an old, tired fuselage like mine, it was agonizing. I actually screamed like a girl for the entire time I was on the thing. Number one son laughed hysterically. See, I'll even show you a picture as proof that I don't make all this stuff up.

http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/5096/hairraiser.jpg[

I staggered off the thing, hurling abuse at the ride operator and hoping that he was struck by lightening quite soon. Am then dragged off to another ride, which was worse, because it was where your feet dangled and you literally felt like you were being hurled through the air. After about an hour of going on aptly named attractions such as The Flash, The Mine Train, and The Raging River, I felt like puking.

.

Now call me old fashioned, but I kind of think that amusement parks should provide exactly what is says on the box. Which is amusement. Not terror and fear.



At this point, I think I had a little cry.

In fact, I know I did.

By noon, we were both spent. I could hardly walk. My walnuts were still stuck to the insides of my eardrums, my neck was killing me and I was walking like John Wayne. After a prostate exam.

It wasn't pretty. I demanded that we go home. To the quiet sanctuary of the Hyatt. And beer.

Which brings me neatly to the actual end of this story. School holidays. Don't start me.

Safe travels.

This is too funny...hahahaha. I need to close my office door to avoid all those stares... Great work! Love the picture!!! It says "torture!"

Another great story shared!! Too funny! Thank you for posting, especially as I prepare to embark on a one-day mileage run to Singapore this weekend.

not really sure how I managed to miss this, but I'm happy I came across it now, can't wait for the next one.

edit: to answer the original question: a friend of my parents flies BRU-EWR 3-4 times per year on 9W, but doesn't bother with FF miles, resulting in frequent facepalming by me. You know what the ironic thing is though? Of all the people I know, I fly the least, yet I am the most knowledgable on the subject of flying, miles, etc.

Those pictures!! They had me falling out of my seat. Classic terror. I love it.

Those pictures!! They had me falling out of my seat. Classic terror. I love it.

+1! "Classic Terror!" said it all!

As soon as I read the title, I hoped for another eightblack trip report.

Brilliant as ever

Loved every bit of it, laughed and felt guilty because our bathrooms are all decked out in little bottles, use those stick together toothbrushes, only thing missing are ankle biters, but we can read about yours.

Brilliant! I've raised a girl before, but now have a young boy so I can see here what I am in store for. He got his first Ipad at 3 so we're on the way. Ocean Park looks great, but I would have brought a ride chaperon along. I'll sit down on a bench and watch it all thank you!

Great report! Being a father to 11-year-old son and 8-year-old daughter, some of this hit a bit too close to home ;) I laughed myself silly.

Oh yeah, we also stock enough spare toothbrushes etc. from hotels and planes for a platoon of overnight guests. They come in very handy.

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Brilliant! I've raised a girl before, but now have a young boy so I can see here what I am in store for. He got his first Ipad at 3 so we're on the way. Ocean Park looks great, but I would have brought a ride chaperon along. I'll sit down on a bench and watch it all thank you!

Ride chaperon service at Ocean Pk, great business concept. ^

Brilliant! :D

JAT

I still have nightmares I went to ocean park on a 45 degrees day. And the mountains of stairs!
Your son needs his own tv show

I still have nightmares I went to ocean park on a 45 degrees day. And the mountains of stairs!
Your son needs his own tv show

Or something like that...;)

For the record, if your leg was next to your ear, that was not a figure four.

But it's trip reports like this that make me glad to A) not have any siblings and B) not have any kids.

My best friend has a 1 month old, and she's great. For about 2 hours. And then when it's time to change her, I hand her back to her mom, go home, and take a nap.

It's Saturday afternoon and I've been dragged into work for a few hours. Needless to say, this its not desired:rolleyes:

Opening FT and finding a new EIGHTBLACK trip report has made everything well again!!

Lounge Expert, I thank you for the kind words...

Yes. Another report from Eightblack:) hope to see updates regularly^

Amazingly, I finished...thanks so much for being a regular reader. That's at least 3 people :)

I post this before the read. My bedtime story tonight!

You need to get out more...but thanks all the same ;)

Great to see more tales of the adventures of the eightblack clan!
Look forward to the next installment...

Trust me, you don't know the half of it...but I appreciate the comment!

Enjoying the read!

Doesn't bode well for the redeye home!

Just as well I wasn't on that flight home. My sister tells me it was uneventful (but then again, her definition of uneventful are mine are poles apart...)

What a treat to discover a new eightblack TR this morning.
Your sagas are one of the highlights of FT... always entertaining with some absolutely classic lines.
:D
Looking forward to the next chapter. Thanks for writing and posting! ^

SFO777, coming from one of the Maestro's on this board, it is an honor...thanks

Loving this latest installment! :D^

See note above. Matt, thanks mate.

I can't wait for the remainder. This is sure to be epic!

Not really, but it was quite fun. Apart from the trip to Ocean Park...;)

Too funny. I am reading the really funny bits aloud to Mr. halfcape and he is snickering.

Mrs Halfcape, thank you for the kind words...

Eightblack is back! Hihoeee. ^

Relax. I never left...:)

Love it!
More, please
Better you than me ;-)

Thank you HNL2ORD - maybe we'll make the next holiday destination spot HNL. Can we come stay with you? :D

Love the TR as usual! :)

Many thanks Jim. Appreciate you reading my drivel...

All the child-raising advice I need is here on FT, thanks to eightblack!

This July we have actually planned to have a houseful of grandkids for week.......girls age 12 and 9 and 1 plus boy age 4. I'm willing to use points to send as many as possible on some all day 16-hour Southwest 10-connection flight path from OKC-DAL-SAT-HOU-MSY-BNA-PHX-LAS-LAX-SFO-SMF-DEN-MDW-MCI-STL-TUL*, and unfairly test the always friendly SW flight attendants.

(*fyi--the laugh is that OKC and TUL are about 90 miles apart)

At least you can give Grandkids back...but I bet deep down you enjoyed having them ;)

Great to read another eightblack report! keep 'm coming! :D

Thomas, many thanks....

As always, another masterpiece from you, Simon. I don't know how you manage to survive it all... (though I'm sure liberal injections of champagne whilst in an EK F suite certainly help)

Hit the nail on the head. I drink heavily....thanks armagebedar :p

Cant wait for the next post, as always I greatly enjoy your writings Eightblack!

VWGuru, many thanks. And I miss my Golf GTi...

I think you just made yourself the official chronicle-r of OzFest 2012 :D

Errr. No thanks. Way too many people with unresolved issues here in attendance ;) I might not get out of Canberra...

...Not going by his past TRs, but it's worth a try! Come on eightblack!

See Weean, have faith brother. I actually finished. Just for you. In fact, I may even re-write a bit I forgot about...:)


Another masterpiece as always from yourself! My other half says the same to me about the above habits, especially as I refuse to open most of the amenity kits!

Great pics of your kid on the rides with you, a true generation gap highlighted !
Hope the SQ flights were good, even though they still ve those awful recliners on some of the 777s which make EK's old J seats look like a heavenly throne! Having said that, I do like the old EK seats, I did lose my J virginity on them!

vieri_c, we had the new regional C seat on the way to HKG and on the way home, we had the old purple things. Revolting. Took a lot of liquid refreshments to calm my nerves on the way home...;)

Absolutely Hilarious. The pictures are magnificent! Great report like always.

Thanks isaifan, these were the pictures I was prepared to post. You should see the ones that I deleted...

Great ending and hilarious photos!!! Thanks for sharing!

My pain and discomfort is for your reading pleasure....

This is too funny...hahahaha. I need to close my office door to avoid all those stares... Great work! Love the picture!!! It says "torture!"

It was torture, but I'm glad you liked the report...many thanks

Another great story shared!! Too funny! Thank you for posting, especially as I prepare to embark on a one-day mileage run to Singapore this weekend.

I don't understand why someone would do a mileage run to Singapore. At all....:D

not really sure how I managed to miss this, but I'm happy I came across it now, can't wait for the next one.

edit: to answer the original question: a friend of my parents flies BRU-EWR 3-4 times per year on 9W, but doesn't bother with FF miles, resulting in frequent facepalming by me. You know what the ironic thing is though? Of all the people I know, I fly the least, yet I am the most knowledgable on the subject of flying, miles, etc.

WC_EEND, many thanks...

Those pictures!! They had me falling out of my seat. Classic terror. I love it.

Next time - I'll swap with you then....:)

+1! "Classic Terror!" said it all!

See above...

As soon as I read the title, I hoped for another eightblack trip report.

Brilliant as ever

raiz, too kind, kind Sir. Many thanks

Loved every bit of it, laughed and felt guilty because our bathrooms are all decked out in little bottles, use those stick together toothbrushes, only thing missing are ankle biters, but we can read about yours.

It's an addiction. Seek help....

Brilliant! I've raised a girl before, but now have a young boy so I can see here what I am in store for. He got his first Ipad at 3 so we're on the way. Ocean Park looks great, but I would have brought a ride chaperon along. I'll sit down on a bench and watch it all thank you!

As I should have done. Brace yourself...

Great report! Being a father to 11-year-old son and 8-year-old daughter, some of this hit a bit too close to home ;) I laughed myself silly.

Oh yeah, we also stock enough spare toothbrushes etc. from hotels and planes for a platoon of overnight guests. They come in very handy.

SP, many thanks. Now that I know you too have kids, I'm sending mine to yours. They are virtually the same ages. You'll be fine. Will pick them up just after Christmas, 2014...:D

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Ride chaperon service at Ocean Pk, great business concept. ^

Why didnt I think of that! I would have paid good money...

Brilliant! :D

JAT

Many thanks.

I still have nightmares I went to ocean park on a 45 degrees day. And the mountains of stairs!
Your son needs his own tv show

He needs a damn good thrashing. That's what he needs....;)

EightblackYou said there is more pictures and some more report you forgot to write, what are you waiting for? We need our fix soon.
Your T/R's are like a drug, once you are hooked it is very difficult to get unhooked.
I really feel for you, after raising 2 boys and now stuck with a girl, i am sorry to say that when your son is 14 then you will discover that what you are going through now is just a walk in the park, specially with a nice looking boy like yours. So if i was in your shoes i will start stocking champagne, you will need every drop.
Good luck

eightblack, thanks for another great tale of travels with your family.

Loved those pictures too... they should get those cameras installed at other interesting place, like the check-in counter when people hear their upgrades didn't clear, for example.... :)

Knowledgeable and entertaining- a model for travel commentators! I have been re-routing the bulk of my amenity kit and hotel 'souvenirs' to homeless shelters; while keeping some back for the frequent teen visitor crowd. Although anything that encourages a male teen to shower and brush cannot be a bad thing!

If there was such a thing, I'd think Eightblack would be quickly invested as a Knight in the Order of Trip Reporting.

Having read his past trip reports, I can say with all honestly that I wouldn't mind seeing the day Eightblack pens a book that I can take anywhere (including aboard flights) :D

EightblackI really feel for you, after raising 2 boys and now stuck with a girl,

OUCH, hope your wife doesn't read this....

OUCH, hope your wife doesn't read this....
I'd say that comment would be the least of his worries if his wife came across his TRs :eek:

OUCH, hope your wife doesn't read this....

Nice one, no she is our daughter and she is harder to keep up with than the 2 boys.:D

I'd say that comment would be the least of his worries if his wife came across his TRs :eek:

You must be talking about eightblack, as for me i can not write as great as Simon does.:(

At this point, I think I had a little cry.

In fact, I know I did.


Shhh!

Shhh!

That's a classic!

SP, many thanks. Now that I know you too have kids, I'm sending mine to yours. They are virtually the same ages. You'll be fine. Will pick them up just after Christmas, 2014...:D

How do they handle in sub-zero temperatures? I am currently considering three-month igloo accommodation in the back yard for our kids come next winter.

See Weean, have faith brother. I actually finished. Just for you. In fact, I may even re-write a bit I forgot about...:)

I'm humbled, eightblack. I'll never doubt you again!

must. stop. laughing.

Almost missed another Eightblack classic. Thank you for providing us continuous entertainment with your writings. You have a gift to make the mundane seem hilarious.

as always a fantastic TR! Great photos too...

Thanks for a great read! Like others, I am definately now addicted to your reports. Thank you for taking the time to post them.

When I'm not otherwise indisposed while riling up the proletariat with pointed commentary on trip report faux pas, there's nothing I like better than to read one of eightblack's marvellously written trip reports. Much more than mere trip reports, they effectively blend superb writing with delicious humor like no-one else here. Thank you, eightblack, for yet another superb tale! ^^

Another excellent trip report, thanks.

I look forward to the next one.

Hilarious! Excellent writing and what an amusing family adventure!

Thanks for the laughs, my co-workers were staring at me as I was laughing out loud.

What a fantastic TR, really really enjoyed it.

Hoping to visit Singapore next Easter on our way to Melbourne.