Good name for a TV show. It sure is one hell of an airport. From the time I got out of the taxi till the time I fell out of the plane in Seattle, I felt about as significant as a single, solitary baked bean in the Heinz factory. Got off to a bad start when the dame at the check in counter told me one of my bags was 2kg over the 23 kg limit, and I had to unlock my luggage and make a transfer. She got the death stare, big time. I was allowed 2 pieces of 23 kg each, ie 46 kg total. When I checked in at Adelaide, I had one bag with 30 kg in it, well under the total. The guy said that was ok, and put a "heavy" label on it, but warned me it might be a problem in Dubai. So I bought an extra bag, a small one, in Dubai and split my luggage. This increases the chance of losing something important, and I don't like doing it. That's why I take a big cargo bag, which I have used three time across the Pacific, and twice to Thailand already, without anyone bitching. Anyway, she nitpicks about 2kg in one of the bags. Ok, I understand you don't want to give a baggage handler a hernia, but if I was flying business, I would be allowed 2 pieces at 32 kg each, and they can lift those ok - and then some. Has anybody ever seen a 90 lb weakling working as an airport baggage handler ?
Anyway, airports are not good places to get cranky in, so I sucked it up and joined the multitudes to jump through the usual hoops, and eventually got to head towards Terminal 3, gate C11, following the signs. After what seemed like an eternity, looking at monitors with destinations all over the planet, and clocking people of all sorts milling around, I didn't seem to be getting any nearer to my target. I started to think I better pitch a tent for the night and finish the trek the next morning. But at least I thought the security was pretty tight. I lost count of the number of people I had to show my boarding pass and passport to. A terrorist would have a hard time getting anything dangerous onto a plane around here. It would be easier to get Stephen Hawking to take up line dancing. Or so I thought.
When I took my seat on the plane, after kicking out some guy who was already sitting in it, I opened my backpack only to notice a near full 500 ml bottle of water in it. OOPS. I forgot about it, and nobody picked it up!! Later on, when the meals were served, they came with metal cutlery! Compare that with the security protocols in Australia and the US. Jeesuz! Even in South America they give you a random final baggage check in the departure lounge just before you board. So now I say Emirates and their flash new mega-airport better lift their game before they make headlines for all the wrong reasons.
However, it was an interesting flight in as much as it went over the North Pole, or as near as dammit. We headed due north from Dubai, crossing Iran, Kazakhstan and Russia. I was actually able to reminisce a bit about previous journeys. We flew right over the top of where in 2008 Chris Phillips and I sweltered through the east of Iran on our bikes in 50 deg heat, with a police escort and a belt fed 50 cal machine gun on a tripod in the tray of the truck. Then a little later, right over the Trans Siberian Railway where in 1977 Mike O'Donnell and I spent two weeks crammed into a small compartment with no redeeming features as we crossed the then Soviet Union from East to West, fearing we would never be heard of again. Kind of neat, I thought, and definitely more comfortable than both previous occasions. This time I was reclining and listening to decadent western head banging music like Black Sabbath, while swirling the ice in my drink.
I was busy checking our progress with the compass on my Protrek watch, and also the much more reliable projection of the head-up display showing the aircraft's vital statistics on the on-board channel. What a world! Anyway, we maintained a heading of almost zero degrees (ie due north) until all of a sudden, we were heading about 180 degrees, (ie due south) with no discernible change of direction. That's the top of the planet for you. A little later, I took some photos of the sea ice on the periphery of the polar ice sheet, from 35,000 ft, as we headed south towards the top of Canada (see below). Then down, not too far from Inuvik at the top of the Dempster Highway, and across the vast, flat expanses of northern British Columbia, over Vancouver and into Seattle. Again, crossing the route Roger Knapp and I took in 2012 on our way up to Alaska. Neat, huh?
Not the place for a plane crash. But what is? Right then, time to get organised for the next chapter. That won't start till the bike gets here, and its running late. So I'm sitting here burning money until such time as I can ride out of here. Bring it on!
Anyway, airports are not good places to get cranky in, so I sucked it up and joined the multitudes to jump through the usual hoops, and eventually got to head towards Terminal 3, gate C11, following the signs. After what seemed like an eternity, looking at monitors with destinations all over the planet, and clocking people of all sorts milling around, I didn't seem to be getting any nearer to my target. I started to think I better pitch a tent for the night and finish the trek the next morning. But at least I thought the security was pretty tight. I lost count of the number of people I had to show my boarding pass and passport to. A terrorist would have a hard time getting anything dangerous onto a plane around here. It would be easier to get Stephen Hawking to take up line dancing. Or so I thought.
When I took my seat on the plane, after kicking out some guy who was already sitting in it, I opened my backpack only to notice a near full 500 ml bottle of water in it. OOPS. I forgot about it, and nobody picked it up!! Later on, when the meals were served, they came with metal cutlery! Compare that with the security protocols in Australia and the US. Jeesuz! Even in South America they give you a random final baggage check in the departure lounge just before you board. So now I say Emirates and their flash new mega-airport better lift their game before they make headlines for all the wrong reasons.
However, it was an interesting flight in as much as it went over the North Pole, or as near as dammit. We headed due north from Dubai, crossing Iran, Kazakhstan and Russia. I was actually able to reminisce a bit about previous journeys. We flew right over the top of where in 2008 Chris Phillips and I sweltered through the east of Iran on our bikes in 50 deg heat, with a police escort and a belt fed 50 cal machine gun on a tripod in the tray of the truck. Then a little later, right over the Trans Siberian Railway where in 1977 Mike O'Donnell and I spent two weeks crammed into a small compartment with no redeeming features as we crossed the then Soviet Union from East to West, fearing we would never be heard of again. Kind of neat, I thought, and definitely more comfortable than both previous occasions. This time I was reclining and listening to decadent western head banging music like Black Sabbath, while swirling the ice in my drink.
I was busy checking our progress with the compass on my Protrek watch, and also the much more reliable projection of the head-up display showing the aircraft's vital statistics on the on-board channel. What a world! Anyway, we maintained a heading of almost zero degrees (ie due north) until all of a sudden, we were heading about 180 degrees, (ie due south) with no discernible change of direction. That's the top of the planet for you. A little later, I took some photos of the sea ice on the periphery of the polar ice sheet, from 35,000 ft, as we headed south towards the top of Canada (see below). Then down, not too far from Inuvik at the top of the Dempster Highway, and across the vast, flat expanses of northern British Columbia, over Vancouver and into Seattle. Again, crossing the route Roger Knapp and I took in 2012 on our way up to Alaska. Neat, huh?
Not the place for a plane crash. But what is? Right then, time to get organised for the next chapter. That won't start till the bike gets here, and its running late. So I'm sitting here burning money until such time as I can ride out of here. Bring it on!
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