So the journey ends. Or begins. The rest of the flight came and went. Stopped off in Singapore to wander round like a zombie for an hour. Back on board and arrived in Sydney commending myself on not having killed the one-year-old on its mothers knee in the next seat (pre-teens really should be transported as checked baggage).
Sydney is overcast, with a temperature in the mid-teens, remarkably similar to London on departure. Went for a stroll through town, amused to see that the shops are full of Spring and Summer clothing collections. Just as I was getting used to it being Spring here, I turned the corner and saw a giant department store window full of Christmas trees. This could be a heavy few days.
There was no chance of my making it through the day so I gave up and went to bed. Woke up at 6pm, had dinner with friends then went face down at midnight. Woke again, feeling refreshed after what felt like a long nights sleep, only to find it was 2.30am. William Gibson has a theory that jet lag is the amount of time it takes for your soul to catch up with your body. Right now I think my soul must be somewhere over the Mediterranean