Europe on 5-10 Nervous Breakdowns a Day (41)
DAYS 50, 51 – FRIDAY, SATURDAY, JUNE 14,15, 1974 – BUT WHAT IF WE DON’T WANT TO VISIT HONG KONG?
On Friday our flight to Sydney, Australia, continued. Lots to eat, eat, eat, but not much sleep, sleep, sleep.
From Tehran to New Delhi, India, they served a hot snack. We arrived in New Delhi at 7:00 a.m. (their time). We were scheduled to be there over an hour so Jo stayed on the plane, said it would be good sleeping time. The rest of us got off. Beside the airfield were oxen pulling plows and women carrying jugs on their heads.
When we got back on the plane, the captain announced they could not get one engine ignited. As time went by, we got periodic reports: changed a spark plug, changed an ignition wire, etc.—“but all is going well.” They started serving free booze. That’s the airlines’ cure-all for unhappy passengers. All around us, folks were getting their buzz on, feeling no pain, while I was sitting there getting grumpier and grumpier. Jo kept telling me that she wanted them to take their time, that she did not want to take off in a plane that wasn’t 100%.
Sitting there gave me time to think. A positive thought: On our long journey, none of us had a stomach or intestinal disorder which often plagues travelers abroad. I credited that happy situation with eating lots of cheese and yogurt (filling our tummies with friendly local bacteria). I suggested this to the rest of the family. They thought I was crazy.
Two hours passed. They were supposed to feed us breakfast as soon as we left New Delhi, but finally decided to feed us on the ground. Had breakfast about 10:00 a.m.
Two and a half hours passed. Three hours. We had only had an hour to change planes in Hong Kong, so we had missed that connection. But we weren’t too worried. I assumed we would spend the night in Hong Kong and catch an early flight to Sydney, arriving there Saturday afternoon instead of Saturday morning. I just hoped our luggage ended up where we ended up.
When the captain came through, Jo asked him how to contact folks in Sydney who planned to meet us Saturday morning. He said to talk to a stewardess after the plane took off. We finally left three and a half hours late. As soon as we were in the air, Jo spoke to the female “flight director.” Turns out it would have been better to have said something to her while we were on the ground. She huffed, “The captain may know his job, but he doesn’t know mine.”
They had no food on board for lunch (they were supposed to pick up food at Bangkok, Thailand, for lunch), so they started serving drinks again. No food but plenty of booze.
One good thing was that the plane wasn’t full. Our family stacked claims on five spots with adjoining empty seats where we could stretch out.
When we arrived in Bangkok, they did not let us off the plane since we were running so late. A fellow in front of us was catching a flight from Bangkok to Sydney, so I checked on switching to that plane. It was full.
They finally told us what would be happening in Hong Kong. After we arrived, the next flight to Sydney would be the same flight we were on—a day later. So we would be getting into Sydney Sunday morning instead of Saturday morning. Most of the other twenty-five or so passengers going to Sydney didn’t care. It meant a free day in Hong Kong at Pan Am’s expense. But we were disappointed—on many levels. I had tried to schedule our trip where we were not traveling at a time the saints met. Plus we were ready to get back to our friends!
We were in Bangkok about an hour, leaving between 8:00 and 9:00 p.m. It was getting dark. We finally had lunch. A Chinese meal with chopsticks—but thankfully they also gave us forks and spoons.
We arrived in Hong Kong at 10:30 p.m. Since we were leaving the airport, we had to go through the same routine as if we were coming for a month’s visit. Which means we had to take all our luggage through customs and then drag it to the hotel.
We piled into a hotel bus. The hotel was some distance away so we had a late-night tour of downtown. There are four million people in Hong Kong and it looked like all of them were in the streets. Many shops and open-air stands were still open.
We stayed at the Hyatt Regency Hotel, very fancy place. (The picture below shows the hotel the next day. We were on the 10th floor.)
We had two adjoining rooms. The bellboy (or whatever he is called) brought our luggage up and said he would get the door open between the rooms and get a folding bed for Angie. I had to tell him I had no change for a tip (all I had was a pound note worth $2.45 and I didn’t plan to give him that). That put a brake on service. The young man did not return and did not send anyone. I wandered around the hotel until I found someone to help us.
In the meantime, the girls were enjoying our luxurious rooms. An old movie was showing on a color TV. We had had no tea but were not all that hungry, so made do with Coke, 7-Up, and orange juice from the bar/fridge. The Cokes were priced at $3.50 each, but we found out that’s Hong Kong dollars, which are worth about 18¢ U.S. each. Since we could have bought the most expensive meals on the menu, Pan Am was getting off easy.
They finally brought a bed for Angie. Jo stayed up washing things while Cindy and Debbie washed their hair, but Angie and I turned in about 1:15 a.m. The Pan Am folks were supposed to call us on Saturday to let us know what flight we are on, how to get there, etc. I assumed it would be on Pan Am flight 812 at 8:00 p.m. Saturday. If it’s not, Jo will be to bury.
Saturday: This was supposed to be the morning we arrived in Sydney. I awoke early. I was bathed (with hair washed) and shaved by 7:00 a.m. I read my Bible waiting for someone else to wake up. No one did. I went back to bed and slept some. No one else stirred until 11:00.
We had a late breakfast served in our hotel room and then the girls and I prepared to go out.
When we got outside, we were immediately overwhelmed by (1) the mobs of PEOPLE and (2) humidity you could cut with a knife. We walked around the block, looking at things, but then went back to our rooms. We all had “funny heads.”
We left our rooms again about 4:00, going downstairs for lunch. I had a salad and Angie had chicken while the rest had hamburgers. Debbie and Angie bought little Chinese dollars at the gift shop. Jo and Angi took a quick look outside . . .
. . . and then went upstairs to get ready to go while Cindy, Debbie, and I ventured out again.
We were out about an hour and a half this time. Again, we were swamped by people. Cindy reckoned it was not fair that the Chinese were small while Debbie thought it wasn’t fair that they all had built-in tans.
The open-air restaurants were interesting . . .
. . . —as were the large signs. Even though the streets are a normal width, the signs from each side of the street overlap each other in the middle. Biggest signs I’ve ever seen.
I couldn’t get Debbie or Cindy to take a rickshaw ride so I could get their pictures. (If Angie had been with us, she would have ridden one!)
We walked to the water. Discovered that we were on the mainland, looking across at the main island of Hong Kong. We saw various motorized junks, plus one in full sail.
We returned to the rooms and completed our preparations to leave. With the heat and late lunch, we weren’t very hungry, so just drank more Coke and juice for our evening meal.
They picked up our luggage at 7:45. We went downstairs at 8:00 and got on the bus at 8:15. But then, at 8:30, a man came out to the bus and announced for various room numbers to come back inside. One of the numbers announced was mine.
When I got back to the counter, they presented me a bill for $42.00 HK—said Pan Am paid for meals but not for items taken from the bar/fridge. They had not told us this. (Many on our flight were called back in; none of us had been told “the rules of the game.”)
I argued that we could have eaten two super-expensive meals instead of snacking from the fridge, so we had saved Pan Am money. To no avail. I went out to the bus, got some English money Jo had stashed away, returned, got the money changed, and paid them.
While I was doing this, they were telling a young fellow from Sydney that he had to pay for a meal he ate when we first arrived at the hotel. We had visited with him on the plane and I knew he only had $5.00—for a taxi in case his parents weren’t waiting for him in Sydney—so I joined in the battle. After all, Pan Am had not fed us our evening meal on the plane. We managed to get him off.
I was about to walk away when they presented me with another bill for $33.00 HK—for the girls’ room. I hit the ceiling (in a nice way, of course). The assistant manager was still there from the previous discussion and he finally agreed to let it go. But there was no way they were going to refund the money I had already paid. I didn’t ask to be there and it still cost me over $8.00 U.S.!
When we finally got to the airport, there was a dispute regarding the truck carrying our baggage. Two Chinese men kept arguing while several passengers climbed on the truck and handed our luggage down to us.
Our plane finally took off at 10:30ish. They fed us a sandwich snack. I tried to rest, but everyone else was wide-awake and chattering, so I gave up. At some point, Saturday became Sunday.
