Rattling with aspirin and bulging in unfamiliar places, we show up at 6am for our 7.45am flight. Perth airport has an absurd fixation with the weight of your cabin-baggage: an inspector with a set of scales lurks just ahead of the security-check. So the plan is to remove heavier objects and secrete them about one's person, or in plastic bags, and replace them after passing the inspection.

We breeze through and find the SQ-lounge refurbished though still cramped, offering an excellent breakfast if you can stand the noise of the colossal blaring TVs.

SQ224 leaves on time, 80% empty in Y - Tuesdays aren't very busy. We each secure a bank of 3 seats on the 777, lie down and resume our sleep.

I dream I am on a driverless bus, heading through pitch blackness...

.. which has actually happened, on a previous departure from Perth. The international terminal is 5 miles beyond the domestic airport, and there's a free bus between the terminals - why not? The bus is very crowded with luggage everywhere; I am hanging on a strap with several others. A barrier swings up and the bus sets off across the tarmac. Two miles into the journey, complete darkness outside, the bus comes to a halt in the middle of nowhere. "The damn door again" mutters the driver, steps down and around the bus and gives the passenger-door a hefty kick.

Apparently the bus' motor is disengaged if the door is open. But, now shut by the driver's boot, the bus obligingly sets off again. Driverless we proceed, across runways and grass with passengers swinging from the straps - and the driver running desperately alongside. Finally he is able to catch up and swing himself back into the driving seat, but there were a few anxious moments...