There were even fewer people on SQ288 out of Changi. The plane was for Brisbane via Sydney (which is a denial of geographical logic, but I'm sure has some cost-benefit). I hit jackpot and got a middle row of 3 seats to myself, so no films this time and straight out SLEEPING. I had no issues sleeping with the mask, which confirms everything I had been told and knew in my head about masks not actually restricting airflow - the mild panic I had at the end of the Heathrow-Changi flight was clearly psychological (but no less traumatic for that!).
Landing and shepherded through Kingsford-Smith like I herd kids around at school (although we were much better behaved, probably due to the moral and sheer physical authority of the border force, state police, ADF, nurses, and airport staff that were doing the shepherding). I got congratulated on having a non-fever temperature and then onto the coach. As we pulled away in the Sunday night darkness the driver popped the radio on and we drove through Sydney city to the nostalgic refrain of Killing Heidi's "Weir". Proper year 7 memories.
The rumour was Sydney Harbour Marriott and it was all true. No view to speak of, unless I am really into cranes (some things don't change in 7 years) but all the staff were efficient and friendly, and the first two meals I've had are convincing me that if I remain good and don't go UberEating all over the place, I will come out of this healthier than going in. I am constantly grateful for the massive room and excellent bathroom amenities. I intend to be good and "make the most of my indoor time" (as the Marriott handout suggests) - set an alarm, do yoga and fitness videos, read and cross stitch, annoy my friends via social media, write the blog, eat all my foods, and not watch too much telly (although my next order of business is to figure out the best way to access UK Bakeoff when it starts in a couple of days).
and empty windows
the cranes go up and down without passengers.
I have taken no souvenirs
except the love of my fellows
and thankful for my constitution
I pace the shapes in the carpet
and listen to the strine to get acclimated
imagining the outside air.
I control the hot and cold and stretch to accept all the feelings they raise
I eat out of boxes
the lucky dip of these four walls for
the good of
my love for
my fellows.
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