None of us slept well last night. Well, except the Sprog.
Harrie continued the nighttime wake ups that have become de rigeur since we have been in temporary accommodation (methinks something to do with the portacot). Thus I did not sleep well either. And being a two bedroom apartment, nor did the Mr, as I was up and down like a yo yo.
The third and final time Harrie woke up was at 3.50am and my alarm was set to 4.00am so I called it quits then – I think I had achieved about three and a half hours sleep? Maybe.
It was a rush to get to the taxi, which of course arrived before we were ready. We totally discounted the fact that we don’t have a lift, rather, we had to walk everything down two flights of stairs and across the parking lot.
The amount of luggage we had made me feel ill: four suitcases, two car seats, a portacot, a safety gate (for the stairs in our new place) and a carry on bag each.
We arrived at the airport just as they were calling the final checkin for our flight, so we made it by the skin of our teeth. I am loathe to mention it, but the Mr and I have had a good career of scraping into checkin at the last minute. And with our bleary eyed children in tow, the checkin staff must have taken pity on us, because they didn’t charge us excess baggage fees. Thank god.
The one-hour flight was uneventful except for the constant whinging of two tired children. It was mostly dark as we flew, but the captain came over the PA just prior to our descent to tell us that we had to wait until the sun was up before we landed. I’ve only been to Dili once before, but the image of the airstrip surrounded by water, on the edge of a long thin city that is hugged by rugged mountains is something that is hard to forget.
We took a sharp turn and landed, with a constant commentary from the Sprog about her urgent need to go to the toilet. The plane landed on the single runway, reached the end, turned around and drove back to the middle, where it headed towards the very modest terminal.
As always we were the last the leave the plane, and as I disembarked I was welcomed by the smell of the tropics mixed with diesel mixed with the ocean. I swatted away the mozzies and headed across the tarmac.
For the Mr it was another day in the office. For me and the girls, it was the start of a new life.
We’ve arrived in Timor-Leste.