Leading from the front issuu

PAT’S DELIWOOD AUDITION
by helen lloyd
Pat and I have enjoyed a lot of travel together and all in
all, we’re pretty good travel buddies. The world is awash
with happy travel tales though so I’m going to share our
most challenging and entertaining story; entertaining
for those who weren’t there, that is!
Even before we left NZ shores for India in 2007, the
signs were there, that we were in for an interesting time.
Travelling with Pat is never ever boring and this trip sure
confirmed it. Things started to unravel when Pat rang
and said, “We’re not leaving Wednesday, we go tomorrow,
two days earlier than I thought”. Bit of a wild scramble
but we got to Auckland Airport OK. We were in the
departure lounge and I said to Pat, “Can you mind these
books please, while I go to the bathroom?” When I returned,
the books had gone and Pat was up at the counter
doing something or other.
We arrive in Bombay only to discover our hotel booking
wasn’t until the next day. Things just kept going from
bad to worse. My handbag was stolen and Pat’s wallet
and clothes were lost in a laundry and on the 4th of
December we turned up at the Indira Ghandi Airport in
Delhi to be told we’d missed our flight by 24 hours. Our
fault I suppose, by the way it was written on the itinerary,
4th December 0005. Apparently lots of people make
this mistake and you’d think they would make it clearer.
Anyway, that was no comfort to us as we now had to find
a hotel near the airport and of course the first four or five
were full. Around 3am we found a place where we could
put our heads down for a few hours.
Next morning we were up early and off to the YMCA
where we knew there was a travel agency. After many
problems trying to get the $1,200 needed from the vending
machines and with the help of a very kind rickshaw
driver, we finally managed to get another booking to
Bangkok. We were to fly out at 12.45am that night, well,
early morning. Thank goodness, we could connect with
our flight home to NZ. Pat was looking decidedly jaded
and we were really elated to be leaving. The YMCA arranged
for a car to take us to the airport. Great — we
were on our way.
We fronted up to the counter with our tickets and put
our luggage on the weighing machine. Pat was absolutely
buggered, lifting luggage up and down stairs in
the middle of the night, in and out of taxis. He had had
enough. Then the lady at the counter said. “I’m sorry
Madam, these tickets are for the 5th January”. Well, I
thought, ain’t that dandy? Now what do we do? I tried
to rescue our luggage while Pat tried to put our case to
whoever would listen.
What happened next might not be entirely honest but
it worked a treat. Pat did a major Deli-wood. He buckled
at the knees as I rushed to hold him up against the
counter while yelling, “Can someone get a wheelchair!?”
People ran in all directions, the wheelchair arrived and
water was given. When things quietened down a bit I put
my hand on Pat’s brow. He looked very flushed for one
who had supposedly fainted. I asked him, genuinely concerned,
“Are you OK?” He looked up, winked and said,
“How am I doing, Mate?” I had just witnessed a convincing
performance and was I relieved to realise that. The
staff wanted to get a doctor but I said, “No, he needs to
see his own doctor in New Zealand”. Well, would you
believe it, we booked us on a flight that night. They sat
us behind the counter at the boarding gate for a couple
of hours so they could keep an eye on us. We tried not to
look too happy, but I can assure you we were.
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