Day 1218 - A Travelling Team

A well oiled machine.

Our Canberra/Sydney flight
(C) Deep Fried Fruit

My husband has very broad shoulders. Which is good, because he can carry both our carry-on bags to protect my sensitive shoulders and neck from further pain.

A bag for each shoulder - his and mine
(C) Deep Fried Fruit

We have fairly clear roles when it comes to international airport activities.  The most significant being that he carries the bags, and I carry the passports*.

He orders the food, and I fill in the forms.  He buys the drinks, and I keep an eye on the time. He drinks beer, I look through the shops.  He minds the seats, I go to the toilet.  He reads the paper to hear the news, I blog and sprout my version of the news.

Blogging at the international departures lounge (as you do)
(C) Deep Fried Fruit

He strides along with his big long legs leading the way, I run along behind him picking up the stuff he has dropped.

His long legs come in handy. It keeps us one step ahead of everyone else. We were very lucky in that we've avoided the crowds on our Canberra/Sydney/LA journey.  I hope it continues for the remainder of the trip.

We arrived at Canberra airport with only three people in line. By the time we had checked in, there was around 50 people waiting.  We arrived at Sydney airport with around ten people in line.  By the time we had checked in, there was around 150 waiting in line. We went through immigration with no one waiting line. By the time we had finished, there was around twenty people behind us. We ordered our lunch by walking directly to the counter.  By the time we had our food delivered this was the crowd that had formed just to place their orders.

A very hungry line
(C) Deep Fried Fruit

We are a well oiled machine my husband and I.  We may bicker occasionally and frustrate the hell out of each other, but we make a great travelling team.  We've got each others backs (and neck, shoulders and passports). Most of the time ...

    *  On our trip to Vegas last year I "allowed" my husband position of his own passport when departing Las Vegas.  He went through security and wandered off ahead of me. By chance I saw a passport that had been dropped on the floor and was poking out from under the security scanning belt. I knew in an instant it was Derek's.  Sure enough, it was his big head that greeted me as I opened the cover. Can you imagine if we arrived in LA without it for our Sydney flight?  Yep, he's got my bag and I've got the goods that stops him from becoming an illegal alien. A well oiled machine ...