the sound of green

The humidity is the first thing that hits me. As soon as I step out of the plane, I can feel the moisture in the air clinging to my skin and everything around me. It’s a familiar feeling, and I’ve long since found that I seem to deal with humidity a lot better than most. Whether it’s got something to do with the months spent in Malaysia visiting all of my Mum’s side of the family when I was a kid has anything to do with it, I’m not sure. What I am sure of is the slightly comforting feeling that it gives me each time I step off a plane in a humid place.

People are madly rushing to try and disembark as soon as they possibly can. One lady pushed her way from the very back of the plane to our row, 9th from the front, onto to be confronted with a wall of people also waiting to get their hand luggage out of the overhead compartments, and make their way down the stairs to the tarmac. Why she rushed, pushed and forced her way forward when in the end it made no difference to how quickly she was able to get off the plane, I don’t know. Beth and I shared a look as she came to a grinding halt right in front of Beth’s nose.

Inside the terminal, we’re greeted by the baggage carousel almost immediately. The whole airport is tiny, much smaller than any other airport I’ve flown into before. People are milling about, waiting for the conveyor belt to start up. I grab a place in the front row of passengers, not wanting to force my way through the crowds when our bags finally start appearing. An announcement comes over the PA, informing us that “Passengers arriving on flight TT504 please be advised there will be a delay of 20 minutes before your baggage will be available.” Collective groans fill the small arrival hall, and many people turn to their traveling companions in disbelief. They begin to wander off, not wanting to stand in one spot for the next 20 minutes, especially after sitting in the same seat for the previous two hours. A line forms almost instantly for the toilets, which Beth joins – a line that quickly becomes umpteen-odd people deep.

I decide to stay where I am, opting to stand instead of further sitting, and checking how things are progressing online on my phone. The terminal is the size of the office building I work in – which in itself is no big building by any stretch of the imagination – so there’s not much to explore. A quick check and update of both twitter and facebook fill the first couple of minutes, before I start to study my fellow passengers. As the stragglers arrive through the doors from the walk across the tarmac, I start to put complete pictures of people to the fragments I glanced of them through the gaps between seats and rows, or a glimpse as I walked past them.

There’s the pre-teen girl who was sitting one row behind and one seat over from me, who spent the entire flight playing a game on her dad’s laptop – with the annoying, high-pitched dinging sounds included. Whether it’s her age or her lack of patience – or more probably a combination of the two – she doesn’t seem suited to air travel. Immediately upon taking her seat in Melbourne, complains started about why the window couldn’t have been moved so that the seat looked directly out it. Or why the flight wasn’t going to take 5 minutes like it looked like it would on the map.

There’s also the group of twenty-something-year-old guys that were taking up three or four rows across the aisle from us. During the 80 minutes of the flight that drinks were served, they managed to consume several cans of beer each – with the promise of more to follow as soon as they arrived. The minute the announcement comes across the speakers, they grab their hand luggage and go searching for food and drink.

I can’t help but laugh to myself, as not more than three minutes after the announcement, our bags start to come out the conveyor belt. Within another minute, my bag and Beth’s suitcase are in our hands, and we head out the door to wait for Kaz. It’s overcast and spitting rain, but it’s still warm and humid. The sun will follow, we’re sure.

Kaz drives us to our apartment, and we check in. The apartment itself is far better than I thought it was going to be, and much better than the photos on their website led me to believe. It’s very nice, very modern, and has a fantastic view out the balcony, looking right out over Coolangatta Beach. Lunch is had on the balcony, and we settle in for the afternoon.

It’s going to be a good holiday.