California is the land of equal opportunity, where you can get a job as an airport announcer even if you don't really speak English. On the way to the gate we amuse ourselves guessing at the origins of the unintelligible announcers.
Was that the nasal factory-floor-intonation of Pusan, South Korea? And this, could it be the swashbuckling sing-song of Shanghai? As we move on, at three adjoining gates the GA's seem to be in competition to bark loud, peremptory orders in a rasping oriental accent - as though they were taking part in an audition for the role of the Japanese Camp-Kommandant. But at our gate UA has provided a rare treat, a beautiful GA with the delightful lilt of the valleys of South Wales. ^
It's a full flight but we are assigned 15AB (zzzz) and 16G for Grandma who is too old to be allowed in the exit row. Fortunately her companion in 16H is a distinguished-looking Chinese gentleman who, with that traditional reverence for old age, treats her like royalty.
SYD (+MEL) is a very tight turnaround for UA, if we arrive even 5 minutes late there's a risk that tomrrow's SYD-SFO passengers may misconnect in SFO. So the captain is rightly gloomy when he announces that we will be delayed 5 minutes by a technician "doing something very minor" in the cockpit. Sure enough we leave 5 minutes late, but save some fuel for a late dash by flying straight through the bumps and by keeping the cabin-temperature at "frosty" for the first half of the flight.
Meals are the usual Filet Mignon, salmon or pasta but the entree is new to me, a salad of shrimps and Parma ham with superb Saint-Andre cheese. The Pommery champagne is at its best, but the table-wines are a muddy assortment. Two FAs in the UD, the slimmer one always in a rush and forgetting to serve drinks with the meal, while the other seems to have all the time in the world for us.
Sleep solidly for 10 hours and woken for breakfast which contains another novelty, a morsel of crisp bacon. We have made up 3 of the 5 minutes which cuts the journey to only 14 hours 10 minutes.
Sad to report, SYD passport-control is like a scene from Dante's inferno, almost as awful as the IAD security-line. After a 40 minute wait we get through and collect our bags, move on the the next hurdle. After ticking the box that we visited South America, we are expecting the Agriculture inspectors to take us away and hose us down with disinfectant.
but we get off lightly and are even allowed to keep those wooden beads we bought in Brazil.
As we ride home in the cab we reflect on a wonderful holiday but boy, doesn't Sydney look great after Houston!
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