Right, this is proving to be a bit much. I have just been on another 12 hour flight and we still seem to have not yet reached our destination. When we touched down in Sydney airport and Mummy and Daddy got their bags from the carousel, I thought that at last, being actually in Australia this time, we were there, but then they went up to another desk and promptly checked their bags in again. When will this madness end?
So I am now writing this on a third aeroplane (a smaller one this time) going somewhere called Hobart, Tasmania. I have also come to the conclusion that we are in fact not actually going anywhere specific, but that my dear parents have decided to make a radical lifestyle change and now we are destined to roam the world, forever changing flights between far flung destinations.
Oh well, it's not actually been that bad, while admittedly I am a little grumpy now (and who can blame me) I've been pretty comfortable on all the flights and have hardly felt the need to cry (Mummy and Daddy look so grateful I actually have to laugh). We have also managed to confuse every immigration officer we've met given our fantastic technicoloured passport collection; Daddy's on his Australian passport, Mummy's on her Italian passport and I've got my new British one. As one of them said, it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke!
It also turns out that in Hong Kong a baby facing forwards in a sling (like in this photo) is akin to the arrival of a minor celebrity. Daddy took me for a walk and in the space of 5 minutes had three old couples stop him to look at me, one woman wanting a photo of me and a whole group of Japanese teenagers chasing after him. All dreadfully embarrassing of course, but I have to admit I did kind of like the attention.
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