I seem to have adopted an 8pm to 3am sleeping pattern. And seven hours is normally enough for me. I open the window to let some air into my room. Move easily downstairs to do what many middle aged men need to do in the middle of the night. And then return to my room.
Despite the window being 6-8 feet from my bed the rain is reaching in. That’s enough air for one night. I update myself on the news, discovering Mrs Vardy has breast implants and Amir Khan is soft. And then it happens.
British Airways invite me to check in for a QANTAS flight from Sydney to Brisbane. Before I have a chance to excitedly check if I’m due a refund I’ve missed, QANTAS themselves send me an identical online check in push notification.
My instinctive reaction is amusement rather than frustration at not being there. My experience of airlines and their relatively poor customer IT should have told me this was coming. My booking has been cancelled. I’ve checked on both web sites. It’s just somehow between cancellation and check-in time these airlines don’t do anything to tell my app that I’m no longer flying. Their web sites know. But the apps are having a nap.
The weather forecast in Brisbane looks good. Almost a shame as England nearly always lose there. On the hills north of Halifax it’s hammering down. If we were playing in Yorkshire it would be a nailed on draw in the first test.