April 5th

Nowadays, the word ‘Journey’ is bandied around so often I sometimes wonder if we tend to over use it. But 5a.m. in the UK, listening to the songs of English birds greeting the dawn, journey is the word I am mulling over in my mind. This overseas trip is taking me on so many different journeys.

First, there is the journey of leaving your own country for another land. If I remember right, journey comes from the French for 'day.' It took us far longer than a day to take us from Melbourne, Australia to my cousin’s home in England. The last time I travelled to the UK was in '94. Then I was with my husband and our three older children – all now grown adults. This time it is only me and our youngest child. He is almost the same age our next youngest was when she came with us to England in ’93. I must say, so far my son has been a delightful travelling companion. Only in the last two hours of our flight to England did he jokingly begin to chant, ‘Are we there yet?’

Travelling in the discomfort of economy hasn’t changed that much. Casting my mind back all those years, I think smoking was allowed then. Thank God that has changed! I also remember BA being very generous with their alcohol consumption. In fact, all their drinks seemed to be on tap. That was the time you could summon a flight attendant to your side and ask them for snacks and drinks. My older three enjoyed this so much that soon one wise flight attendant showed them where they could get go and get there own stuff. This time, they served you one spirit drink and, if you wanted it, gave a small bottle of wine to have with your meal.

Of course, the last time I went overseas was before 9/11. Now going through customs has given us a few interesting moments. We were sent off the plane in Singapore (first and business class could stay put, while those economy, like it or not, had to gather all their bits and pieces for a wander around the Singapore airport.) They assured us we would hear the announcement when it was time for us to return to the plane. We didn’t. I think we were just fortunate that we decided to do a toilet stop and opted for the toilet closer to where we would board the plane. I was busy in the 'ladies' when I heard my name called for the flight. Subconsciously, I think I have always wanted to hear my name called for a flight…as long as I didn’t miss it! But it did put us into a fluster, and the fluster became more so when my glasses set off the customs alarms again. This time I ended up with feet apart, having a nice customs girl check me over with that strange hand device. I dashed off without my handbag, and customs were nice enough to chase after me to hand it to me. Then in the plane we couldn’t find one of the UK passports. My heart started thump rather crazily, thinking we might end up holding up the plane while we went to find it. I breathed a very long sigh of relief when my friend found it amongst her travel papers.

I am also journeying in another way. Writing any kind of book is a journey in itself, in so many different ways. Sometimes I wonder if the journey has really just started.