Brooktorhafen

I guess there is no easy way to travel half-way round the world. The earth is a big place and, even travelling at the speed of a modern jumbo jet, it takes about 24 hours of sitting in a tiny metal cylinder, feeling imaginary clots floating up and down your extremities. And yet, I am here.

The long journey began with a customary drive to Tullamarine Airport, Fortunately at 10.30 am in the morning, the traffic on the Monash Freeway was uncharacteristically sparse. At least the first part of the long journey went by without too much stress.

The lack of traffic meant that we arrived the airport a little earlier than anticipated. The check in counter was not yet open. I did what any sensible person would do in such a situation - went in search of a coffee shop to enjoy a coffee and a last rest before the real challenge started.

Soon I was watching my luggage disappear into the internals of the mysterious mechanical monster and I was left wondering whether I would ever see it again. Actually before this trip I had invested in two Samsung Smart Tags and had secreted one into my cargo luggage and the other into my cabin luggage. I figured that, if either of them were to go astray, I might have some chance of seeing where they were going.

My first flight was a relatively modest hop of around 7 hours to Singapore. By watching one movie and playing endless games of Mahjongg, I managed to survive this first challenge with most of my mental faculties intact.

As soon as I got off the plane at Changi Airport, I loaded my Travel SIM into my phone and checked to see if my luggage had made the same journey. To my relief, the Smart Tags worked perfectly, showing me that indeed my cargo luggage was also in the same airport.

The second leg was a much more daunting 13 hour endurance flight from Singapore to Copenhagen. I found myself seated next to a young Norwegian fellow who tried to tell me where he was going. Unfortunately, his thick accent combined with my diminished hearing, to the extent that I could not understand a word he was saying.

As soon as we took off at around midnight, we were served a large (and surprisingly good) meal. As soon as he finished his meal, my new Scandinavian friend closed his eyes and went to sleep. He did not open them until we were about to land some 12 hours later. If there was such a thing as an Olympic sleeping event, he would be a certainty to take gold.

As for me, I did not fare as well in the sleeping stakes, although I did manage to grab a restless 4 hours or so of slumber. The rest of the time I occupied myself by watching the track of the plane on the screen as it diverted, time and time again to avoid the ever-growing list of world trouble spots.

Since I had the window seat, and my comatose companion blocked access to the aisle, it was a monumental challenge to maintain bladder control for that length of time. When he even refused to be wakened when they started to serve breakfast, I started to wonder that maybe he was no longer breathing at all. Surely no one sleeps that long, especially on a plane.

He did finally awaken, just as were landing at Copenhagen. He opened his eyes and casually started getting his stuff sorted, as if nothing was unusual. I suppose for him, the entire flight would have only felt like an hour or two. Lucky guy !

The plane landed at Copenhagen just after sunrise, and my first impressions of Denmark were very positive. By the same token I was a little anxious that my final flight would be taking off in only 50 minutes time. I first had to get off the flight, walk to the terminal building, and then find my way to the departure gate for my final flight to Hamburg. In the process I would have to face the challenge of a walk from one side of the airport to the other, and also join the huge queue at immigration. It was always going to be tight.

I managed to do the zombie walk to the immigration counters and then tried to find the shortest queue. For a while the row of people moved forward steadily until one couple brough the entire process to a standstill. For at least ten minutes they were standing at the counter, while all the other queues were moving steadily ahead. I wondered why I had the misfortune to choose the worst line.

It was at that point that I did the inexcusable - I jumped lines. "My plane leaves in 10 minutes", I explained to the lady that I had just pushed in front of. Fortunately, she did not reply with a torrent of abuse, and we actually had a chat about where each of us was heading to next.

I finally escaped the inquisition at immigration and managed to arrive at the departure gate, just as the passengers were being herded into a crowded bus. I hoped that my luggage was enjoying a swifter passage to the final flight.

We were finally squeezed into the waiting plane for the short 50 min flight to Hamburg. I was certainly glad that it was only 50 minutes, as the seats were positively miniature. It was even more of a blessing when I discovered the seat next to me was the only empty seat on the plane.

About 45 minutes later we were already landing at Hamburg. As soon as the plane stopped, I checked the status of my Smart Tag and was relieved to see that my luggage was not far away from me. Sometimes technology is wonderful.

About 30 minutes later my familiar blue bag appeared on the carousel and I could finally relax. Or could I ? Back in Australia I had decided that I would book a private transfer from the airport to the hotel. After a long series of flights I did not want the added challenge of trying to negotiate an unfamiliar public transport system.

I was promised there would be a man with a sign waiting for me. There wasn't anyone in sight with such a sign. I wondered back and forth, up and down escalators and lifts, went looking for an Information Counter (and couldn't find one), and was just about to give up and jump in a taxi, when I finally had an alert on my phone. The driver was looking for me after all.

A short time later we were united, and I was able to sit down in the back of his brand-new BMW limousine for the 40 min drive to the Marriott Hotel. The driver turned out to be a nice young guy who spoke good English and was very interested in Australia. "You have many very dangerous animals there", he stated. "Too right we do" I answered.

Since I arrived at the hotel so early in the morning, I did not expect to be able to get access to my room for several hours. It was here that another miracle occurred. I had just started to walk down the street outside the hotel, when the reception rang me to tell me that my room was ready. It was a perfect ending to the long, long journey.

Over the next few days, I will be joined by a steady succession of fellow team members. It will be interesting to hear their travel tales as well.Read more