I got to the airport by bus with Glen's help - it's
pretty easy, but using Google you might well go to the
adjoining stop only to see the proper bus whizz by. Our
first one out of Blair Athol was if anything early, but
not so early that we were unthankful for the bus shelter,
as the misty rain was swirling around enough to moisten
us a bit even in a few minutes (Glen, being an engineer,
likes promptness, perhaps super-promptness); this G10
deposited us in plenty of time at the midtown connection,
where we had a good bit to wait at this early hour. Some
few minutes before our scheduled connection's departure
some guy rolled up to power wash the shelter. He held off
until our J-bus arrived two or three minutes late, a rare
enough phenomenon to cause anxiety among some of the
other waiting passengers.

It was an easy trip, and we got to the airport five early.
I went to baggage services, but it was closed. Then to the
desk to get my document checks and boarding passes, and so
I said goodbye for now and was through security in a trice.
The wi-fi here isn't bad, and I did the FIDO and then
moseyed to the gate, where boarding was easy and orderly.

QF 740 ADL SYD 0815 1035 738 17A

An okay flight with an empty seat next to me. Breakfast was
Greek yogurt (didn't try) or Manna from Heaven breakfast tart
(identified in small print on the back with the ingredients list
as quiche lorraine), which was a bit solid but a decent-tasting,
reasonable, and filling serving. There was a really ample amount
of smoked bacon and not too much cheese (sharp Australian
Cheddar). The crust was pretty decent as well.

We got in fashionably late.

Lilli had taken the bus from Terminal 3 to fetch me, and the
question was - $40 a head for transport for five hours in the city
or just hang around. Well, thanks to Lilli's influence, the Qantas
First Class lounge beckoned, with a spa and showers, free-flow
booze of reasonable quality, and dining on demand, gratis. We
decided to settle our old bones in the latter.

Excellent shower rooms with Qantas First exclusive toiletries
mostly scented with blends of wood and citrus, not my favorite,
but very luxurious.

A restaurant seating fifty or twice that when the big planes
are due out, where we were seated in the midst of our first
drink; for me it was the estimable Martell Cordon Bleu and her
the Hay Shed Hill Cabernet 15 (Margaret River), which I found
both a little forward in the fruit and much too oaky. A nosy
Parker wine if you will.

Lilli of course had a burger rare, which was your meatloafy
Asian-style patty, very fancily dressed, with pretty good chips.

I asked for small servings of two mains that sounded interesting,
cumin lamb with smashed cucumbers and jasmine rice, and five-spice
brisket with chips. The former was not quite spicy enough and not
quite fatty enough but otherwise authentic tasting; I remarked to
Lilli that they must have a Uyghur working in the kitchen. The
cuke, three quarters of one, was sweet-sour, sort of a tarter
bread-and-butter pickle, not too bad, and the rice, a large
serving I thought that turned out just enough, was nicely done.
The brisket was like your granny would have done if she were
half Jewish and half Chinese. The meat was fall-apart tender
with nice little ribbons of fat throughout. I may be the only
person around who dissects his meat and eats the fat veins and
leaves behind the muscle.

Brokenwood Shiraz 17 (McLaren Vale) was pretty classic, with
plenty of fruit and some acid and tannin; it would benefit
from a few years of aging, maybe half a decade. It did go
well with the desserts, which included a syrupy chocolate
hazelnut tart and an excellent passionfruit curd tart (like a
lemon tart but better).
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