Thursday, December 24, 2009

MERRY CHRISTMAS from Franz Josef!

We’re now in the township of Franz Josef, having left Christchurch with not a whisper about where our luggage is or when/if we might see it again. PACIFIC BLUE SUCKS BIG TIME! Jo took my Property Irregularity Report at the office on Monday morning & encouraged me to call for news, which I did during office hours. They simply stopped answering the phone & I was only able to get a recorded message—telling me the office hours were 9.00 to 5.00 and that they were sorry they couldn’t take my call and that I should leave a message—on Tuesday and Wednesday.

So, I’m over it. I’ve stopped calling now (well, it’s Christmas Day) and I’ve got used to my new cheap wardrobe.

I scooted around Christchurch for a couple of days taking photos. We crossed the Southern Alps on the Tranzalpine on Wednesday and it was breathtaking. Yesterday we walked on the Franz Josef glacier. It’s probably the most strenuous thing I’ve ever done, apart from pushing Alex out. (Well, perhaps it’s just the most strenuous thing I can remember doing. Perhaps when I was younger and stronger I did more physically difficult things, but I can’t remember any.) I don’t think I have too many more years left when I can think of attempting such a climb. But I’m glad to have worn cramp-ons on big old walking boots one time in my life.

Franz Josef glacier and its brother/sister, the Fox glacier, are the glaciers closest to sea level in the world, (just 300 metres above) and only 19 km from the Tasman Sea (or the ditch as we call it in our part of the world). It's quite comfortable, as far as temperature is concerned, to climb the glacier in the summer. Apparently Australia is to blame (to be thanked?) for the large volume of precipitation here: the glacier gets 7 metres of snow a year. Warm hot air comes across the ditch & hits the Southern Alps & can't go through them, so rises and forms precipitation when it hits the high cold air. Voila! Glaciers and a very wet west coast.

OK, got to get inside now. Am being eaten alive by sandflies & I can only access the internet from the office, which is now closed, so I'm sitting on the bench outside. More later.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sunday, December 20, 2009

JETSTAR SUCKS: A Bagless Lady in Christchurch

Arrived at Sydney Airport about 3.3o for ourflight to Christchurch at 5.10. We would arrive in the capital of New Zealand's south island at 10 pm or so, but that was the earliest flight I could get on Sunday. Picked up the boarding passes, went to gate 25 and waited with the others.

About 4.30, when we expected the boarding announcement, we hear: "This is an announcement for passengers on JQ151. The flight has been delayed due to infrastructure and baggage room issues. Jetstar regrets the 30 minute delay to the flight and thanks you for your patience."

What is a "baggage room issue", I wonder. Have some pollies been debating on the carousels? I sit and read the paper, glancing up sometimes to watch the munchkins crawl over the carpet. One little blond boy whizzes around making whooshing noises, his grubby security blanket billowing behind him like Superman's cape.

A little while later and another announcement citing the ongoing "issues" with the luggage and regretting the delay. And then we're told we will be boarding in five minutes. People perk up, and then passengers with seats from 15 to 30 are invited to board. Ours are 29 and 30. Even though you'll read in the Wikipedia link for Jetstar that it allows passengers to choose seating when booking online, unfortunately it hasn't perfected that revolutionary practice as yet, and my son and I would be seated one row apart.

The Korean lady, who'd shared with me her occupation (she is a housewife), her recent past (she'd been on a three-day tour of Australia), and her future plans (she was now flying to New Zealand for a three-day tour) asked me what was happening with the flight. Explanation was difficult as her English language confidence exceeded her ability. However, I showed her five fingers and pointed to her watch. She smiled and nodded.

When I got to the front of the queue and handed over my boarding pass, I pointed out Jetstar's mistake in our seating arrangements and asked if Alex and I could sit together. She said that it was impossible change the seating at this time: the plane was fully booked; I might be able to negotiate with other passengers once the plane had taken off. The girl took Alex's boarding pass and placed it back into his passport and handed it back to him. Mine she lingered over.

"Oh, you've dropped off the system," she told me. "Someone else has been assigned to your seat, even though you have a boarding pass."

"What does that mean?" I asked her.

"The plane's fully booked," she told me. "There aren't any extra seats."

I repeated the earlier question. "I just have to speak to my supervisor," she said, and for the next 40 minutes or so, the three staff discussed my situation with the supervisor and among themselves, but not with me. I waited and watched as all the other passengers boarded. I stayed close so that I could listen in to their conversations for news of my plight because they were not sharing anything with me directly.

Finally Carolyne, a beautiful young woman from Fiji, said that they had arranged for me to get a Pacific Blue flight which was leaving soon and that she would walk me to the gate. It was a couple of kilometres over the polished tiles to gate 63. When we got there Carolyne hesitated. I said, "You're staying with me. If you don't organise my flight, they won't know what's happening."

"Yes, but there doesn't seem to be anyone here from Pacific Blue."

She was right. There were no Pacific Blue staff behind the counter, but many agitated people milling around and three of them now appr0ached us.

"When are we boarding?" asked a man from the U.S.

"Sorry, I don't know," answered Carolyne, "I don't work for them. I work for Jetstar."

"We've been calling the Pacific Blue office and they keep telling me they're sending someone, but no-one's come," said a young Aussie guy. "Can you tell them to come?"

"Sorry, I have no connection with Pacific Blue." But she was doomed. Her red blazer made her stand out and every few minutes another desperate passenger approached asking for news of the flight. They'd been in the lounge waiting for an hour and a half with no information and no airline staff. A Pacific Blue guy finally came and asked some of the passengers what was going on.

He went down the passageway with a couple of colleagues, whipping through the self-locking door down to the on-ramp and away from the approaching group of irate passengers. After about half an hour, two Pacific Blue staff arrived. One of them, Marija, had been sent down to solve the chaos, after being hired by the company about five minutes earlier. As I watched them put my details into the Pacific Blue manifold through trial and error, Carolyne suggesting a fix when they weren't able to enter the information, I had an uncomfortable thought that my problems were probably not over yet.

Well, we did finally get onto the Pacific Blue flight and arrived in Christchurch about 2.30 a.m. on Monday. My foreboding when I watched the three inexperienced women on the computers the night before was realised. We had arrived in Christchurch with our carry-on luggage which included this laptop and a camera, but no spare undies or a toothbrush. (From this, dear readers, unfortunately you get a very good view of my priorities.) The taxi dropped us at the Ibis Hotel down the lane from Cathedral Square and right next door to a luggage shop.

Have not heard good news from the lost baggage people at Christchurch Airport. Am off to find a change of undies, a toothbrush, and perhaps something a bit warmer to wear. (It's bloody cold with that wind, though the skies are very blue.)

More information about Christchurch anon.
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]