Oct 8 Back on the island

This morning we woke to a grey and cool Sydney morning. Weetbix and canned fruit for breakfast, packed and ready to leave just before 9. Learning from our mistakes, this morning’s airport transport was an Uber - coming in $44 cheaper than last night’s taxi. So it averaged out ok! We arrived at Terminal 3, the Qantas domestic terminal with about 2 hours to spare before our flight. Luckily!

Getting to the plane was like a very un-humorous and not entertaining Escape Room. The self-service kiosks assume you have already checked in online and got your boarding pass printed at home. If you haven’t (as we didn’t) you have to come up with a way of checking in online, you can’t do it through the kiosk. Not sure what the solution is if you don’t have a smart phone.

After checking in, I clicked on the link to “See Boarding Pass”, and was taken to a Print At Home dialogue box - no option to view the pass on screen. I clicked the option to have the boarding passes emailed, but what arrived in my email about 15 minutes later was just a link to the website I had just been on. When I asked an attendant for help, she assured me I just had to check in online and click the link, and proceeded to show me… ending up in exaclty the same spot. “Oh, that usually works,” she assured me. She then pointed me towards an alternate help desk location, which was unmanned, and suggested trying the Qantas app. All the app does, it turns out, is magically transport you back to the website. While waiting for someone to show up, I managed to get the boarding passes saved as pdfs onto my phone via the Print At Home dialogue box, but thought this would be unmanageable for check-in. I then had essentially the same conversation with the girl who arrived, who assured me I could just view them onscreen from the online check-in, “Like this… oh,.... that usually works?”. Eventually she just printed them for me.

At the bag drop, the computer asks you to place your heaviest bag first, then once that has disappeared from view, the next heaviest bag etc. I don’t know what you are expected to do if you put the bags on in the wrong order - probably crawl down the luggage chute to get it back, based on how simple everything else was. Luckily we cracked the puzzle and were able to move to the next stage.

Peter asked to borrow a wheelchair and was told he had to check it out with the service desk, who told him he was fine to just take it and he didn’t need to talk to them. During security screening, Mum and Dad were both thoroughly patted down and Mum was also swabbed for drugs. It was an entirely infuriating experience, which was eventually calmed by a lovely piece of coconut loaf from a cafe on the far side of security. We had plenty of time in the end, and were thankful that we had left the hotel early.

The flight to Lord Howe Island was on a DeHavilland Dash 8, with about 40 passengers. Service included water, a sandwich, beer and wine, tea and coffee, a muffin, then refills of any of the above, for the duration of the two-hour flight. Toilet was definitely of the itty-bitty kind but the flight was uneventful. The wind had started to pick up as we were travelling, and it was a cross-wind landing on a short runway which basically consisted of throwing the plane down as quickly as possible. It was quite cloudy and windy, so not quite the idyllic tropical paradise of the brochures, but quite stunning.

The various accommodation providers all do airport pickups, so you just have to find your driver, then your bags, then head off. Many of the providers seem to do a quick island-familiarisation tour straight after the pickup, so Mum was able to have a quick look around and take a few photos. The island is much less flashy than I expected, more chilled out island-y - more Takahiwai than Akaroa. It’s very green, and the roads, though sealed, are pot-holey and narrow tracks through tall stands of palm and Norfolk Island Pine trees. Much of the accommodation is set back from the road behind trees, so it’s hard to tell how many people are around. The “CBD” has a few shops and restaurants, Post Office etc but the main facilities are spread around a few different roads. There are little woodhens and banded rails wandering around all over the place. At each little bay or clearing, there are little public barbecues that can be used by visitors, and hiring bikes appears to be a popular pastime.

Our accommodation is a little 2bdrm cottage which is part of a larger complex, but we’re not sure how big. Our driver pointed us to our room, which is very pleasant, but we haven’t managed to find a key yet. Mum, Peter and I went for a walk around the road to collect our rental car from a different accommodation. As per the email instructions, there wasn’t anyone in the office, but the car was parked out on the grass verge, with a note inside with my name on it, and key on the front seat! It’s all pretty casual here! Speed limit on the island is 25km/h, and seatbelts not required. We went to the two shops billed as grocery stores - one was more souvenirs/bait/takeaways, and the other more groceries/t-shirts - good to have established the pecking order. We sorted ourselves out a few supplies, then went back to the cottage for a cuppa and to read the paper. Mum spotted some news of her arrival in an article in the Lord Howe Island Signal, and threatened to never say anything to me again!

For dinner this evening, we were guests of John Green, a former student of Mum at Lord Howe Island School in 1960/1961. John and his wife own an accommodation business, plus restaurant and bakery on the island, and kindly invited us to dinner when they heard Mum was returning to the island. Mum and John had a lovely time remembering people and events they knew, catching up on what had happened to so-and-so, and this person is stil alive on the island and this person just turned 101 etc etc. Mum had brought along her old school photos and John was able to name almost every person in them. It was actually really lovely to see and listen to, and John and Kathy were wonderful hosts. John has offered to take us on a drive around the island tomorrow afternoon to find some of the key landmarks from Mum’s time here, including the house she stayed in - apparently it is still here, though we had been unable to spot it while walking this afternoon. It was actually the son of her homestay ‘hosts’ who just turned 101.

John shared some interesting facts about the island. Tourist numbers here are limited to 400, and the accommodation providers essentially own bed ‘licences’. If a provider is selling or closing down, other providers might try to expand their offerings by purchasing more bed licences - the going rate for these is around $100,000! John also spoke about the process for obtaining supplies. The supply ship comes every two weeks, so you have to plan ahead pretty well, and if the ship is delayed for any reason, or you run out of something, you “just cope”. There is an airfreight option weekly, but it costs $6.60 per kg to have something airfreighted, so you’re not going to do that for any old thing. The menu at John’s restaurant changes daily - the chef takes a look at what supplies they have, what they’ve run out of etc, and just creates a menu accordingly.

John recalled a time at school when Mum had been asked to look after a household (4 children, blended family) for 2 weeks when the parents got married and went on their honeymoon. John was good friends with the children in the family and spent lots of time there, and was worried that the teacher might be just as strict after school as well! Mum said she had to milk the cow and get everyone ready for school, then they would all trot off in a line off to school in the morning.

After eating and talking far too much, we retired to our cottage for bed.