Have you ever really seen the stars? Not just the very brightest ones, the few that can barely compete with the light of the cities. No, I mean a black sky filled with tiny pinpricks of light, so many you wonder if there is indeed any true darkness out there.
That is what I see now, high above the clouds, far from cities. Now the Moon has set, leaving us only with the red blinking aircraft lights and the stars.
The Moon, it was pure grey and white until it touched the clouds below then sank gold beneath the horizon. Orion, the great hunter, chases it below.
Below is only darkness, but the sky is full of light if you look hard enough.
I suppose the high cloud will arrive soon as we cross the equator, visible only by the beam cast by the running lights. It can be felt by its wispy tendrils reaching up to grab at the aircraft and us.
After arrival at Kansai Airport I head straight to the Aeroplaza and the Nodoka Lounge. There I rent a private area. You have a choice between seats and the soft equivalent of a nobi-nobi compartment, which is what I chose.
It’s a raised area with a soft leather floor and a legless seat. There is one power outlet, one USB outlet, both of which I use to charge my phones on the tiny corner shelf. There’s no real privacy or place to store wheeled luggage, but I manage to have a short nap.
There’s also an artificial grass section with hammocks and cushions that would be a cheaper option than a private compartment.
The queue at the Jetstar desks is already long when I check out from Nodoka and make my way to departures. The flights to both Sydney and Brisbane are being checked in. I’m on a call to the family for most of the wait.
I check in the small case and carry the two emptier backpacks on board.
No point waiting around landside, so I pass through security and immigration, a quick process and catch the shuttle train to gate 5, where my aircraft waits.
I wait too, chat with B over Google Meet.
At check in I was told I was in the exit row, but I was certain I wouldn’t have booked one.
It’s true, I didn’t. Instead I’m on 24H on the opposite side of the plane to the way up. I ask a flight attendant if they would mind not locking the cabin windows at maximum shading and they seem to comply.
On the aisle seat is a young man heading back to Australia after three weeks in Japan. Surprisingly, the middle seat is empty.
There is no welcome from the flight deck, just the safety demonstration as we begin our very long taxi around the terminal to runway 06L.
There’s a stiff crosswind blowing, judging from the wind sock, but our take-off and initial climb are smooth. Soon after we turn left and I have views of the Awashima bridge. I wonder if we’ll fly by Tokushima, but instead we head straight down the middle of the strait.
I’m asked what food I’d like for my $15 credit. A couple of slices of tea cake, crackers and bread. I’m actually a bit hungry, but I don’t think I can stomach much.
It’s smooth, then a bit bumpy, then smooth. But not so smooth that I can get any sleep. Incredibly, the area around Guam is clear of high cloud and I can actually see the lights of the island below.
I watch Black Widow, which, being a Marvel Movie, is about my mental level right now. Afterwards, I fall asleep for a short while.
Papua New Guinea is also mostly free of big storms, though I see some flashes far below. Only around Port Moresby do things shake a bit, then it gets worse across the Coral Sea as we finally hit high cloud.
First light appears with two and a half hours to go. In deference to others who might still be sleeping, I dim my window.
The electronically dimmed windows on the other side of the cabin turn the light green, making them look like algae covered fish tank glass from my perspective. I miss that classic scene of the orange light of sunrise streaming into the cabin.
The weather settles once we cross the Queensland coast and as the world wakes up outside it becomes one of those perfect Australian mornings for flying. I have some microsleeps.
The cabin lights are turned on. As part of the ticket I had pre-ordered a morning meal. I was hoping I’d ordered the pumpkin quiche and spinach and feta roll for breakfast. Actually, it is the sandwiches. Somehow they turn out to be quite delicious with really crunchy salad filling. I enjoy them more than Japanese konbini sandwiches.
Maybe I am just hungry.
I admire the geometries of the farms, try to work out where we are from the dramatic geology of the mountain ranges below, photograph nearby mines for later reference.
I feel the speed brakes being deployed as we begin our descent above the Hunter Region and into Sydney. The “mostly clear day” update given by the captain appears to be incorrect as we pass through a couple of cloud layers.
They aren’t so bad, but I can still feel them.
Down we go across the Parramatta River, the Olympic site at Homebush visible, over the Inner West, past the IKEA where we had lunch before we began the trip. Down on to the runway.
Landed!
Hey, that wasn’t so bad.
The electronic immigration gates don’t take long to pass through. There is a bit of a wait for our luggage belt to start, but once it does my case arrives quickly. While I am waiting a quarantine officer walks past and queries what I had checked on my immigration forms, then stamps it “Nothing to declare” when I tell him Japanese crackers and sweets.
I dodge the other passengers in arrivals who don’t know how to roll suitcases (you don’t need to take up the width of 3 people!) and quickly head down to the station, catch the train to Padstow.
At Padstow there’s a 20 minute wait for the bus. B has gone into the office today to get her new laptop setup, so there’s nobody to pick me up.
In my exhausted state I almost miss the bus when it arrives, distracted by a second bus. I rush, board and ride it home. Not until we are approaching my stop do I realise that I’m missing my daypack. The one with my wallet, passport, keys and other valuables inside. Almost all of my ID, my house access and more in one place.
I’ve probably left it at the Padstow bus stop in my rush. It’s not a good place to leave things.
Insert swear words here.
I speed walk home the half kilometre, rolling my case, lugging my big backpack. Ring the doorbell (now I have no keys), lucky Alex is home. Also lucky that the spare key to the other car in the garage is in the drawer and not my wife’s bag.
I barely have time to say hello before I’m driving the car back to Padstow. I haven’t used the bathroom since Japan. I’m not thinking about that now.
I drive past the bus stop. It’s not there. I ask a lady sitting in the same seat, but she has just arrived. I park the car. An older man at the bus stop says he saw someone just take the bag away, “a Chinese man in his fifties heading towards the station.”
I go to the station. There’s nobody of that description on the platform, the station attendant hasn’t had any bags given to her.
What am I going to do?
I see a man across the road, near the Malaysian restaurant. On thin Indonesian or Malay sitting outside a shop with what looks to be my bag (distinctive orange trim) at his feet.
I hurry across.
It’s my bag!
He doesn’t look like a healthy guy at all, but refuses any money when I thank him for looking after my bag.
Phew.
Okay. I can go home now. I can unpack, I can shower, I can say a proper hello to Alex and wait to provide tech support to B when she gets back.
I have enjoyed the holiday, if not the little coda at the end. So many trains, so many new places, great food and wonderful sights and experiences. There are still so many places and experiences left to see or to share with the others. We just have to get through the final year of high school first.
What a start to 2026!