Getting there is half the fun?!

Well, not in this case.
When we arrived at the airport in Frankfurt (5am) rumours went round (the flight itineraries depend not so much on pre-scheduled, well arranged flights but on rumours and coincidence, it seems) that Terminal 4 in Heathrow was closed for travellers checking through because the conveyerbelt system was broke.
Which means our whole flight was not going to happen but we would be booked unto another flight with whatever airline whenever was to take off.
Sighing we met our fate and prepared mentally to spend the whole day at the airport. After being sent to several desks for new tickets we got the all clear signal; miraculously the conveyerbelts were working properly again so all went back to normal ("normal", eh...) and off we were.
Normally when "London Heathrow" gets mentioned my neck hairs stand on end. It's obviously not known for clear sign-posting or logical structure. But all went as easy as stealing a lollipop from a child. Changing from Terminal 1 to Terminal 4 took no longer than 30 min. which left us two hours for bumming around.
Fun really only started when we boarded for Singapore\Sydney. There was this lovely couple sitting in the row in front of us with their cute 1 1\2 year old daughter.
You know were I'm heading here.
While the rest of the passengers coped quite well with withdrawal of sleep, crammed seating, aching bodies and the like, this gorgeous girl kept screaming at the top of her lungs. And I'm not speaking of crying because she couldn't sleep well with all the noise around her or that pressure balance caused her pain in the ears or something similarly comprehensible. No, you could tell that she was screaming because she didn't get what she wanted and most of all she didn't get it NOW. You know, the kind of squealing that drops every 30 seconds to check if the parents are giving in already. Even the stewardesses flinched.

But every nightmare ends eventually. This was no different; and now we are in OZ.
Beware I'm coming!
As soon as I'm good and ready and resembling a human being again.

"It's an astonishing fact that in the year 1967 Prime Minister Harold Holt went on a stroll on a beach in Victoria, plunged into the surf and disappeared never to be seen again. I think that's amazing. First of all because Australia went and "lost" a Prime Minister (have you ever heard of such a thing?) and secondly because I've never heard about it.

.........

Of course you'll see my point. Australia is a country that loses Prime Ministers and is so huge and sparcely populated that a bunch of enthusiastic laymen can ignite the world's first non-government nuclear bomb in a desert and nearly four years went by before anyone noticed.

Obviously that was a country I need to get to know!"

Bill Bryson, "In a Sunburned Country"

Do I really need to emphasize that I endorse from start to finish?

I have been to Sydney once two years ago as a stop-over on our way to New Zealand and we didn't have enough time to even take a quick glimpse on the Blue Montains. I vowed to remedy that and here we are; ready to go, sitting on our (almost readily packed) luggage and waiting for Friday morning to come. I'm going to sleep 1 1/2 times more and then ....

I'm nervous as hell, but well prepared. 2,527 GB free memory on my digital camera (yes, I'll post the occasional photie), Bryson's guide to Australia's multifarious wonders, sunblock, hat, insect repellent, antidotes for spider bites, snake bites, scorpion bites, jellyfish attacks, shark defense ( Hysterical? Moi?) ....

Let's face it. Australia hosts more lethal creatures than any other country. The ten most poisonous snakes live here. Death on eight legs (also known as redback spider) lives here.

Help me remember: why did I want to go there?