Kobe > Southport
When I awoke just after 7:30 without any daylight seeping into the room it took a few moments to register that we were well into our last day of the overseas portion of the trip.
Not that this had anything to do with the events of the previous evening, you understand...
Actually, the absence of daylight when I woke up was something I’d noticed in every hotel we’d stayed in, with each establishment’s curtain or shutter arrangement guaranteeing unless you set an alarm you’re not going to be aroused before you’re well and truly ready.
We had intended to head downtown for breakfast (a free shuttle bus encourages things like that) but a glance out of the window prompted a revision to the planned activities for the day.
It was raining steadily, and while we could probably have stayed dry if we stuck to Plan A, we decided to opt for a leisurely morning, a late checkout, lunch and a spot of shopping before we headed out to Myodani to pack and await the shuttle service which would ferry us to the airport.
Poking my nose out the door, I discovered that the morning English language paper had arrived, and I settled down for a chance to catch up on events in the world at large. We’d managed to almost totally avoid news bulletins for the last two weeks, and anything that we had heard was in Japanese (which meant, of course, that it was Greek to me . Thank-you William Shakespeare).
Of course you wouldn't expect anything much in the way of coverage of Australian news in the International Herald Tribune, in association with the Asahi Shimbun, but there was a front-page article with the headline Australian drought dooms rice farms dealing with the international ramifications of the collapse of Australia’s rice production.
After I’d taken my time over the paper there was time for a long soaking bath while Madam took a lengthy phone call from The Sister before we packed and checked out just after eleven, allowing us to take the 11:15 shuttle to Sannomiya, where an early lunch seemed to be a good idea.
‘Er Indoors had spotted references to a couple of possible options, including an Indian curry house somewhere nearby, and we’d initially planned to head in that direction, but she also mentioned a nice bread place as an alternative before making a major strategic mistake.
I’d completely forgotten the existence of a Kobe equivalent of the Gumbo & Oyster Bar where we’d had lunch in Kanazawa, but when she pointed out that it not only existed but happened to be located right in the very building we were standing in front of the decision was easy.
The order, once we’d arrived and been seated, was equally straightforward. Oysters and gumbo for Hughesy, the lady’s set for Madam plus the obligatory glass of Chablis to go with the oysters.
Unfortunately the oysters arrived as ordered rather than the double helping we’d had in Kanazawa, but they were big, plump and excellent au naturel with a touch of chilli and tomato sauce,
Again, I enjoyed the gumbo and Madam’s set (salad, platter of Cajun/Creole nibbles including ceviche, seafood pasta and a slice of chocolate cake) looked as good as the few morsels I managed to sample tasted. If I had a complaint about both G&O establishments it would have concerned the lack of New Orleans music in the background, but you can’t have everything and it would be unreasonable to expect it. Both the Kanazawa and Kobe establishments are part of a nation-wide chain, so I have a feeling I’ll be revisiting G&O from time to time over the next few years.
After lunch I headed upstairs to Tower Records to pick up a couple of the items I’d spotted, then headed across to buy Madam’s new suitcase and a book about translation matters then, with those matters negotiated it was down to the subway and off to Myodani where a visit to the electrical store for a new digital camera was the next item on the agenda.
Actually, once we’d got off the train I sat with the luggage (surrounded by assorted geriatric Japanese) while Madam arranged the purchase, after which we caught a cab back to The Mother’s for the final packing process.
This was a straightforward procedure as far as I was concerned, clean clothes in the upper compartment, everything else except for the things I needed for the flight down below. Madam’s procedure was more complicated so while she continued packing I got out of the way, wrote up the note book and finished the half bottle of Brown Brothers Patricia Noble Riesling 2000 that had been sitting in The Mother’s fridge for the past three or four years (and very nice it was, too).
Once the packing was out of the way there was nothing to do but sit back and wait for the taxi shuttle, which was due to collect us at 4:50 and arrived on time, giving us just under two hours to enjoy the views as the driver navigated his way through the various pickup points and eventually deposited us outside the departures section of Kansai International.
Checking in involved a wait in a lengthy queue since there were two Jetstar flights departing simultaneously, one to Cairns, the other to Brisbane and Sydney - and both seemed to be rather heavily booked. Then, once the luggage was off our hands it was a matter of killing another two hours before boarding.
The first bit was fairly straightforward. A stroll through the duty-free shopping, a survey of the available meal options and a decision that Madam would head for the sushi/sashimi outlet while I wolfed down some pasta with a glass of red to go with it.
Having eaten, there was not much else to do but head for Departure Lounge 6 and settle down to wait for boarding. Both of us had something to read and I had the iPod, so the wait didn’t present any major problem.
For some reason the initial boarding call was in English rather than Japanese, which gave us a head-start on most of our fellow passengers. Not that it did anything to expedite our departure but at least we were seated with hand luggage safely stowed well before the majority of passengers made their way onto the aircraft.
The flight itself was relatively uneventful and sunrise saw us tracking down Australia’s east coast with ‘Er Indoors in the window seat trying to catch a glimpse of Bowen once I’d pointed out that we’d be passing fairly close, though admittedly close is a relative term when you’re travelling at 38000 feet. She claimed to have been successful, though our position over the wing made it difficult for someone sitting one seat away from the window to verify the sighting.
We were on the ground in Brisbane, more or less on schedule when the fun and games, such as they were, began.
Unknown to the majority of those on Flight JQ 1, some time during the descent into Brisbane the auxiliary power supply decided to pack it in. Not that anyone would have noticed, since it was the kind of incident that didn’t pose any problem (as I could gather) while we were in the air.
In fact, if the pilot hadn’t brought the matter to our attention as the aircraft taxied into the terminal, I doubt than anyone other than the air crew would have been any the wiser.
Unfortunately, the failure meant that, once the engines were turned off the aircraft would be plunged into darkness unless they could arrange for some other source of electrical power.
Which, in turn, meant that the engines wouldn’t be switched off in a hurry and that, in turn, meant that no one was going anywhere anytime soon.
No sooner had they made alternative power arrangements than another gremlin appeared in the system. There was a problem, believe it or not, opening the doors, which meant that everyone who’d stood up when the engines were switched off stayed standing for quite some time.
Eventually, of course, they succeeded in opening a door and we filed off through the front doors hoping that nothing else would go wrong.
Then, for some reason possibly related to the previous difficulties, unloading the baggage seemed to take an inordinate length of time, but eventually some operator flicked a switch and the conveyor belt surged into action. Eventually our baggage emerged and we were free to make our way through Immigration and Customs and make transit arrangements to get us to the Gold Coast for a couple of days’ rest and recuperation before heading home.
The airport shuttle dropped us off in front of my Dad’s place just before ten that Saturday morning and after an hour and a half spent detailing our adventures over the preceding fortnight it was time to venture out in search of something to eat.