Parcel Pete's Australian Adventure By Heather Playdon

Capter 2- Safe Landing

After what seemed like forever, including an uneventful stopover in Dubai in the early hours, flight no QF003 landed, to a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’. Parcel Pete smiled to himself. He was his very own ‘Next Day Delivery’. This was it. His adventure had begun.

Fumbling for his passport and papers he disembarked and fought his way through the various queues and unfeasibly large rucksacks on the backs of unfeasibly rakish backpackers to step out into Australia’s largest global city, Sydney. Imagine the postal system here, he thought.

The weather greeted him with a warm embrace. Pete looked down at his feet. He really shouldn’t have worn socks with sandals but he’d have to sort that out when he got to his B&B, the coach’s engine was starting up and he knew he’d have to wait ages for the next one to his stop.

When the driver called out Pete’s B&B and opened the doors to let him off Pete thought they’d been a mistake. This establishment had been called ‘appealing’ by the marketing brochure but it should have said ‘appalling’.  He dragged his suitcase off the coach and stood on the pavement looking up at this dilapidated building, confused but tired he puffed out his cheeks, wiped his brow and strode towards his home for the next 3 weeks.

Once checked in and in the safety of his room, Pete tentatively shook off his damp socks and sandals and stretched out on his lumpy bed. He was really here and he was going to make the most of it.

First stop tomorrow, Sydney Opera House. 

He slept well considering the noise: excited backpackers, mostly English voices raised and full of laughter. Pete went to sleep happy and woke rested and ready to take on the day. Still feeling a bit jetlagged, he jumped in the shower and immediately wanted to jump back out again. It was tepid to put it mildly, hey ho at least it’s waking me up he thought.

Breakfast was a strange affair. He entered a hushed room, smelling of freshly ground coffee and cooked sausages or as they called them ‘snags’. The only available seat was at a table of studious-looking twenty-something lads with a coffee in one hand and a map in another. 

Being unafraid to strike up conversation with anyone (apart from Penny of course) Pete found out that the lads were planning on visiting The Blue Mountains and he got himself an invite on the trip. Sydney Opera House can wait, he thought.

Hours later and worn out, Pete sat on his bed looking at the photos on his phone. Now that was something to show Penny when they met again. He wished she were there with him. He wanted her to meet his new friends.

He washed the day away, rinsed out his dusty socks and hung them on the edge of the bath then he laid on the bed. Must check Facebook, he thought. He saw that he had ‘friend requests’ from a couple of the English lads he’d explored the mountains with earlier. So after a few minutes of ‘social media admin’ he closed his eyes and drifted off.

Today was a good day, he thought scratching his cheek as he sunk into a dream.