Plastic knife and metal fork

So I am sat on a commuter train on my way back to central Melbourne pondering the logic of Qantas serving meals with a plastic knife and a metal fork, and spoon for that matter.

I would have loved to be in the meeting to see how that piece of nonsensical logic was arrived at. Seems a bit mad to me.

First day in Australia, got off to a positive start getting off the plane and out of the airport was straightforward enough, not being able to access a bedroom was a bit of a pain. A quick shower in the gym, change of clothes was all I needed to get going again (oh yes 2 coffees).

Into town with a couple of people for a look around, bright day not too warm looking around. The city looks quite pleasant, an interesting mix of old and new buildings. The older ones older than I imagined for some reason don't know why. Came across a couple of tailoring shops called 'Peter Jackson', thought about trying the 'what discount do I get for having the same name routine' however my shopping priorities are elsewhere so I left it.

Why am I on a commuter train? Well a family from the village came out to live here a couple of years ago and the lady of the household is on my facebook, so when she facebooked me this morning to say she was around today it made total sense to jump on a local train to go and say hello....so after having a quick drive around a stunningly beautiful peninsula and a quick cup of tea and sandwich with Lisa and her daughter Kim who grew up together, went to pre-school, primary and secondary school with my son Tom I am now on my way back.

It's now somewhat warmer-probably around 30 but I think I will still have a little more of a wander around to see if I can realise some of the shopping priorities.......

So back to plastic knives etc. Long haul flights are very solitary affairs, get on the plane, settle into seat, position ipod, e book, passport etc, have first glass of champagne, watch safety instruction, choose which film you are going to watch, nod off for a few minutes - miss take off, start film, have another drink, eat dinner, watch end of film, try and go to sleep.

If you stare intently at your screen and only provide single word answers ('beer', 'chicken', 'white', 'French' 'thank you' (ok technically that's two) you can probably do a complete 12 hour flight and speak less than dozen words to anyone the whole flight.

There is a sense of being disconnected from anything and everything when on such a flight. When I got to Singapore I must have sent 10/12 emails and 1/2 dozen texts in very short order just to get in touch with my own world.

Still can't get my head around plastic knives and metal forks - time to go however so will think on a little further. Bye for now.

P
Peter Jackson
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