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4 min read
The travel curse continues

When the AFL Gather Round was announced, texts were flying around my group of old mates in Melbourne that we should head along.

Flights, accommodation and tickets were sorted. We arrived at midday on Friday, and by 1pm the first drink was cracked. We’re all in our 50s so I thought we would have matured somewhat, but at precisely 1.30pm we downed the first shout of chilli oyster vodka shots.

Banger of a day on the jetty at Glenelg, recalling stories, many of which had a bit of mayonnaise added to them. Plenty of drinks were had before we were off to the city for a mini pub-crawl and dinner. The restaurant proved hard to find as old mate put the wrong address in and the 800m walk turned out to be over 2.1km. After dinner and a cab ride to the magnificent Adelaide Oval, our top-end seats were great, except for the storm that hit after the first 22 minutes.

The Swans had a good win – which upset our Tigers’ supporter mate – and after the game we headed back to Glenelg on a tram.

When we asked a local how long the tram ride was, the answer was “about 20 minutes”, which turned out to be the answer to every question. With a full bladder I thought “It’s only a 20-minute ride, I’ll be fine”. Turns out it’s a 57-minute ride! I was first off the tram at our destination and I hurdled three families to get to the toilets.

The next day no locals seemed to know where the ground was, not even the local councillor we met, so we arrived 18 minutes after the start, and the tickets on our phones wouldn’t scan. So we walked through mud to the ticket booth where we were told to get our tickets printed. Unfortunately, the lady at the counter couldn’t get Wi-Fi – due to over 4000 people at the ground – so she couldn’t print our tickets. Finally, after the 1/4 time siren had gone, we were allowed in.

The strife continued after the game when our Uber driver got lost trying to find us and by the time he picked us up we were all looking wetter than the dogs at McCauley’s Beach.

Once we arrived back in Adelaide for the double-header, the predicted storm had hit and our seats were not under-cover so we spent another five hours standing up.

The following morning it was time to say goodbye to the Melbourne lads and, with five hours to kill, I thought I’d meander through Glenelg. Google Maps told me it was only an hour and 10-minute walk to the airport, so, with suitcase in hand, I decided to take “Shank’s pony”. Unfortunately, the map directed me onto a road inside the airport perimeter, which was blocked off by two huge, barbed wire gates. I should’ve known something was up when Google advised me to walk along “Security Road”. So the hour-and-a-bit walk had me now looping around the airport, adding 5km to what I thought was going to be a casual stroll.

Still, I arrived at the airport in plenty of time and, despite sweating like an English bowler on Boxing Day, I thought things were looking good.

Wrong again. My flight was cancelled 35 minutes before take-off. I waited for 95 minutes at the service desk before I was served, only to be told I’d have to stay the night – with accommodation and cabs covered by the airline – and come back the next day to catch a flight. The service lady assured me that she’d checked-in for me.

Upon arrival the next day, service staff informed me that the flight was closed and I’d missed it because I hadn’t checked in! I said the previous night’s lady had done it for me but, no, apparently she hadn’t. The service (they need to reassess that word) person said last night’s lady should have told me I had to check in and was fake smiling like she was on Young Talent Time. Well, thanks for those pearls of wisdom, Captain Obvious! But, she said the “good news” was she’d book me a seat with extra leg room on the 5.30pm flight. I asked if she saw the irony in the fact that I now had an extra six hours to stretch my legs before the actual flight.

While the Gather Round was a success and the lads want to go again, I might ask the AFL boss to make it in Wollongong.