Bear with me folks - I'm attempting to type this on my phone. Hopefully I get to the end, hit publish, and it (a) actually publishes, and (b) does not end life on the planet as we know it.
I'm in Australia, gearing up for my brother's impending wedding in early January. Unfortunately in my usual affect on the travel gods, arrival dates got a bit muddled. To the point where I apparently had half of my UK family trying to figure out where I was, because the Aussie side pitched up at the airport and I never appeared. The itinerary said I landed 22 December, which was the date I gave. What I completely and utterly missed was the minuscule fine print that said (+1) at the bottom. To cut a long story short, the folks were anxiously waiting at the airport, wondering if I'd done something to upset customs, while I was lurching around Brunei airport, a little unsure how I'd ended up there. (The ticket said Dubai transfer. Brunei was never hinted at.)
So we finally landed in Melbourne, and I staggered onto the concourse expecting to see the beaming faces of the family... *crickets*
We'd landed early, and the Aussie customs are terrifyingly efficient compared to every other country I've flown through; passport and very pleasant interrogation done and dusted in under fifteen minutes. I made a beeline for the coffee shop and tried to ignore the migraine that had hit during the last hour of the flight (not fun. Having an attack on a jetliner may be one of the more unpleasant things I've managed) and texted my brother. At this point in time, I still thought it was the 22nd.
My brother called me and made growly noises about the date.
I caught a taxi to the house. Hopefully the trip back will be uneventful. It's a bit disconcerting to time-travel by accident.
I'm in Australia, gearing up for my brother's impending wedding in early January. Unfortunately in my usual affect on the travel gods, arrival dates got a bit muddled. To the point where I apparently had half of my UK family trying to figure out where I was, because the Aussie side pitched up at the airport and I never appeared. The itinerary said I landed 22 December, which was the date I gave. What I completely and utterly missed was the minuscule fine print that said (+1) at the bottom. To cut a long story short, the folks were anxiously waiting at the airport, wondering if I'd done something to upset customs, while I was lurching around Brunei airport, a little unsure how I'd ended up there. (The ticket said Dubai transfer. Brunei was never hinted at.)
So we finally landed in Melbourne, and I staggered onto the concourse expecting to see the beaming faces of the family... *crickets*
We'd landed early, and the Aussie customs are terrifyingly efficient compared to every other country I've flown through; passport and very pleasant interrogation done and dusted in under fifteen minutes. I made a beeline for the coffee shop and tried to ignore the migraine that had hit during the last hour of the flight (not fun. Having an attack on a jetliner may be one of the more unpleasant things I've managed) and texted my brother. At this point in time, I still thought it was the 22nd.
My brother called me and made growly noises about the date.
I caught a taxi to the house. Hopefully the trip back will be uneventful. It's a bit disconcerting to time-travel by accident.
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