WHAT A LOAD OF BULA!
An early start had the alarm doing it’s irritating thing, screeching its head off at 2.30am. Weary to say the least it took more than an effort to get ready and cart 50kegs worth of luggage to the international airport. Arriving at 3am for a 6am flight would ensure plenty of time to check in, get through customs, have a coffee (or six) and catch some shut eye in the departure lounge, right? Wrong. Driving into a COMPLETELY deserted airport hardly encourages emotions of excitement and anticipation. Rather, a dull and fearful emotion washes over you as if you’d just forgotten it was out of uniform day. “Four o’clock, guys!” hollers a voice in a Hi-Vis vest. Fabbo. One frostbitten hour later, the airport doors open, the Windows Xp start-up tune echoes throughout the terminal as the ATMs and Departure screens flicker on, only to display every known flight EXCEPT flight DJ905 to Fiji. Riiiiight.This flight was conveniently going via Brisbane and therefore departs the domestic terminal… note to self; do more research if you haven’t previously lost your virginity to the Virgin Pacific check-in protocol. A few irritating transfers later, Fijian Customs stamped our little navy books and soon thereafter we were greeted and hugged by fellow wedding goers at the resort reception. Upon checking in, it was hardly amusing to be told that there were none of the ocean view rooms left and that ‘alternative accommodation’ will have to be arranged. What was amusing was the alternative accommodation just happened to be a beachfront bure complete with direct access to the Pacific Ocean and a butler service. Nice.
WIN:
Finally arriving in paradise, slumming it in a 5 star resort and getting fair on it with beloved pals. (disclaimer: bragging rights permissible due to the 1 star standard of accommodation ahead!)
FAIL:
Any fails from the days events were immediately forgotten once it was clear that our accommodation had gone from the shithouse to the penthouse. Another Pina Colada please, ma’am.
theflightclub 