The Tartan Touch
“We flew and we came down to refuel in romantic-sounding places whose airports all looked exactly the same, and then we flew again. I ticked off the places on the Southern Route that we had been to and never seen. There was New York, San Francisco, Honolulu, and Fiji, and then bang on time there was Sydney spread before us, full of red and green roofs, and the new Opera House, shaped like a boat in full sail, and the racecourse where Mr. Fraser said all the smart people gathered for the equivale...nt of the English Ascot and Derby, or something like that, for he talked of Melbourne and Adelaide and Alice too, and I was tired enough to be easily confused.And Sydney itself was not an end to the journey. Together with a single lady, who had sat across the way from us in the aeroplane from England, and whose ankles had swollen badly in the long flight, we were shepherded along to be received by the Customs people, who asked far more questions than was good for them, and to be given a poor thing of a meal that gave us all indigestion.“Is this what they give you to eat in Australia?”MoreLess
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