I made it back to Melbourne. Finally.

Having set the alarm and gone to bed at a sensible time I awake at 2.30am. Someone new coming into the room. No worries. I fell asleep again.

Later on something woke me. I wasn't sure what. The Japaneese guy in the room was sat at the table, wrapped in his bedsheet. I was half asleep. I didn't think much of it. I fell asleep.

I awoke later. It seemed light outside yet my alarm hadn't gone off. I looked at the time on the phone. 5.25am. SHIT! FUCK! BOLLOCKS!

Somewhere I'd slept through the 4am alarm. I had a major panic. The plave was due to leave in 45 minutes. It was a 15 minute ride to the airport.

Throwing everything together in a mess and stuffing into my backpack, throwing my dorm key on the bed and racing out of the hostel. Would Qantas still let me on the plane even if I was so late? I should have checked in at 5.10am.

I got outside and had another panic. No taxis anywhere. I walked up the Esplanade. Taxis with no lights on went by. None with a light. This was supposed to be the nighttime taxi rank.

Time ticked by. By 6am I was calm again. I'd missed the flight whatever happened now.

Still, I needed - wanted - to fly to Melbourne.

I eventually found a taxi and by 6.30am I was in Cairns airport. The Qantas flights were full unless I wanted to pay $2000 for a first class ticket. Not likely! Virgin Blue offered me one at $400. I took it. The next problem was a 6 hour wait for the plane.

I waited. I ate. I shopped. I waited. I ate. I drank coffee. I wet through the security 3 times during those 6 hours. I watched all the idiots who set off the metal detector because they don't understand that metal detectors detect metal and so all metal objects should be removed from your person. Clever that! These things are well named.

Finally I boarded the flight at 12.30. A non-eventful flight. After waiting 6 hours the next 3 went by quickly.

Back in Melbourne. Baggage claim. Everyone clustered by the point where the bags come out. I moved round a little for that neccessary space that you need to grab a bag and pull it off. Someone stands next to me. We watch a bag go by. I wait for mine. The bag comes round again. This time he pulls it off. What was wrong the first time around? He saw it. Did he not recognise it? You'd be there all day if you didn't recognise your own bag.

I was assaulted by American Express sales types. I told them I had one already. The well suited guy asked which one, a gold? No, I said, a platinum. Suddenly I was his best friend but I had to disapear and head for the CBD on the bus.

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