There's a little room in Sydney airport, unmarked and hidden away from The Public, where all the crew sneak away and hide. Wall to wall with computers, crew bags, sectioned offices and even couches and a kitchen, it's like its own little world.

That's where I'm hanging out right now, me and my hat, or my hat and me, or my hat and I, I'm not rightly sure. Despite the grammar, the hat remains - and so do I. Apparently in an emergency situation, my hat is my new best friend - don't ask me why. Apparently everything will be ok as long as I've got my hat.

Anyway, having slightly broken an aircraft for the first time in 6 months, leaving it sitting in front of a large window where all the passengers are milling, we went for breakfast. I figure it's open to the public to talk about the aircraft being tech if the engineers are poking around inside the engine with all of the covers off in front of a few hundred people.

Which of course causes vast chaos and confusion in an airport as busy as Sydney.

0925 in the morning and it feels like an entire day as gone by, and I'm looking forward to a day off tomorrow, although right now it seems likely to have to work instead of surf!

TTFN!