In March 1997 I returned to Australia after living overseas for 38 years. I didn't keep a
diary at the time, but I'm gradually writing down what I can remember of the experience.
Since these items are from memory, they're shown
in brown. Don't be mislead by the present tense: all of
these entries were written years later.
Finally got everything together to sign the contract to buy Wantadilla—and not a
moment too soon. Things dragged, and I was nearly late at the airport.
Off first to Perth, where I discovered that I had to transfer from the domestic to the
international terminal, and some idiot expected me to take a taxi. Finally got there for
free, and off with Cathay Pacific to Hong Kong. Well-equipped plane, but it's clear their
typical clientele is shorter than I am: much of the space under the seat in front of me
(and every other seat) was taken up with a controller box for the TV display, making it
less comfortable than it should be.
I'm back in Hong Kong for the first time in over 40 years! Not that I remember much of
it in those days, but it's quite impressive nowadays. Spent most of the time talking with
the Tandem people, of course.
In the evening, nearly got kicked out of the restaurant. They don't like my footwear.
For some reason, people in this part of the world are particularly fussy about that sort of
thing.
Off early today because Kim Yong wanted me in Seoul today, not tomorrow. Got there, he
picked me up at the airport and found his way back into town, where he dumped me at the
hotel, one considerably less opulent than the last, and left me to my own devices for the
rest of the day. If I had know that would happen, I could have spent more time in Hong
Kong.
I'm here chasing performance problems for Trigem. It's a bit different from my previous
visits in Korea: it's in the middle of Seoul, and we're working with a customer. Our senior
Trigem contact invited us out to dinner, making a point of stressing how the Koreans like
to eat dog. It seems that that horrifies the Americans, but it fell flat on me, not only
because I was not American, but because I thought he was saying “duck”. In the
end, at the restaurant, I asked for dog, but they didn't have any.
Today I leave Germany! Not directly to Australia, but
to Hyderabad, where I was to
teach a course. Packed like I've never been before, I headed to the airport, where despite
my request for Delta airlines, I
had been booked on Lufthansa. The
difference is more than symbolic: Delta would allow me two items of luggage weighing up to
32 kg (70 lbs) each, while Lufthansa only allowed 20 kg total. And I was way over.
They wanted ridiculous sums of money for excess baggage, but I had little choice. After a
frantic call to Sophie Mouzakis in Melbourne, and with the alternative of me having to
return home and repack and thus miss the beginning of the course, she agreed to foot the
bill.
The flight was terrible. The plane was in really bad shape: the armrest cushioning on my
seat had clearly been demolished, possibly by a bored child, the food was bad, and of course
I had to fly economy where Delta would have given me a free business class upgrade. I swore
never to fly Lufthansa again.
Arrived in Mumbai after dark, and was picked up by Sri Kumar and taken to a hotel. Saw
little except chaos.
