So, I was in the bike shop today, making enquiries about purloining a cardboard box. No problem, one of the mechanics informed me, all their new bikes arrive boxed, so they always have plenty available. I'm so glad I told him what country I was flying to because he knew of people who had emigrated there, only for their bikes to be refused entry. What was the matter with them might you wonder? They were dirty. Yes, Australia is the only country the mechanic had heard of where this had happened. I never clean my bike, not out of laziness, but as a deterrent to would be thieves. Foreign dirt is not allowed over there apparently - Laura says they don't want to upset their precious pH balance. Shoes have to be squeaky clean too.
So, anyway, the box might be too big to fit in with luggage requirements, so it would have to be truncated in some way.
I thought I'd better take a look at the Australian tourist board/Embassy to find out if I need to be inoculated for avian bird flu as my Dad was concerned about this. It was a good thing that I did look because I found out I needed a visa. Of course it's all done electronically nowadays and I have nothing to show for it. except for a 24 quid dent in my bank account. After this I forgot all about the bird flu...
Talking of birds and dirt, I also forgot to mention another excellent Ozzie film called Long Weekend. It concerns this couple who leave their suburban home one to camp on a remote bit of beach and how nature gets back at them after they kill a dugong. I've spoiled it now and possibly put you off anyway, although it really is worth watching.