Thursday, 3 April 2008
Six o’clock saw us surging into action and by half-past we were showered, shaved (at least I was) but not shampoo’d and ready for the Continental breakfast downstairs.
It’s hardly a scientific approach, but a quick check of the levels of the various spreads available for the morning toast revealed a preference for orange marmalade with, believe it or not, Vegemite sneaking into second place ahead of strawberry jam with peanut butter a distant (and, in my humble opinion quite understandable) last.
A quick survey of adjacent tables showed a similar level of depletion in the stocks of Vegemite, scotching any suspicions that the table we were occupying had attracted an unusual number of Australian chauvinists eager to indulge in the left-over brewers’ yeast.
This posed an interesting question to ponder while waiting for a boarding call for the flight to Japan.
I assumed supplies of the various items started at around the same level when the bistro opened for breakfast. Presumably the sole employee in sight filled the receptacles to the top each morning as part of her duties. I couldn’t see that there was all that much she would need to do.
I felt that it was also fairly safe to assume that there wouldn’t have been too many dinkum Aussies in the crowd that had passed through the breakfast area before us. More than likely the previous clients would have been backpackers or tourists grabbing a bite to eat before heading off on a day tour of the Daintree or a white-water rafting expedition in the mountains between Cairns and Tully.
Admittedly, anyone partaking in these particular pastimes might be looking at maximising their Australian experience but observations of overseas reactions to Vegemite suggests that, for most foreign visitors, once is more than enough.
So what happened to all the Vegemite?
I had visions of overseas visitors surreptitiously sneaking sachets of the substance into their pockets with a view to smuggling them back home as evidence of the Australian lack of sophisticated taste.
And, Muriel, can you imagine? They spread THIS on their morning toast! What strange people...
Anyway it gave me something to ponder while we were waiting.
By seven-thirty we were on our way to the airport and Hughesy’s first encounter with the vagaries of international travel.
Arriving at the International Terminal I was mildly bemused by the lack of activity. A few people were being checked in, a group of Japanese tourists were being marshalled outside the check-in area and there were a couple of terminals occupied by staff waiting for the arrival of customers.
No waiting, no delay.