#GDayMate, #PostCrisis
The best thing about the championships being in Singapore was the relative proximity to Oz. The moment I boarded the Qantas jet, the flight attendants’ Aussie accents ignited a longing for home. Like Dorothy, I understood – there was no place like it. Unfortunately, clicking my heels wasn’t going to help. I had to sit with my own thoughts in a cramped seat for eight hours.
Despite being treated like VIPs when we were on the tour, until you were a vice-president, economy class was the only option in the air. Compared to the plane cabin, the claustrophobic indoor tennis arenas seemed palatial. About six hours was my limit before the wriggles kicked in. Every way I moved, my butt hurt. Nobody’s arse is designed to sit for more than a couple of hours – no matter how mu
