The first steps are the hardest (we hope)

It was a dark and stormy night. No, really, it was. Not only was the prematurely blackened sky lit by the fireworks of lightning, there was thunder under our roof as well. Baby Alex wouldn’t settle.

The start to our trip began poorly indeed. The morning itself was enjoyable, as we spent the morning up in Sydney’s north dropping off our dog Kita and my mother at my brother’s house and celebrating my niece’s second birthday. But on the way back Alex became steadily crankier. I don’t think he’s ever been so upset for such a long time and I fear he has taken ill.

Our plan was to catch buses and trains to the Formule 1 hotel near the domestic airport. However, Alex’s constant crying delayed our last minute packing. Outside, a previously clear day had taken an ugly turn with the onset of a powerful storm. Eventually, it was clear that we would need to order a taxi.

The taxi arrived, but with only a child seat and not the promised infant capsule. Left with little choice, for once I was glad a taxi driver kept to the speed limits. At least Alex slept a little.

He was back whinging when we entered the hotel and didn’t stop until after 11:30 pm. I had bought us a very late dinner of McDonalds, which was surprisingly quiet in compared with the adjacent Krispy Kreme Donut shop and finally we could relax. But I don’t think that I’ll stay in a Formule 1 again, there’s just nothing particularly comfortable about it, nothing special, which is fair enough as they don’t advertise otherwise.

I did see the Iraqi Prime Minister’s aircraft parked nearby. I’m sure he stayed somewhere better though.

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