After breakfast, we loaded up the car and made our way to the airport for our direct flight, scheduled to depart at 10:30 AM. If all went according to plan, we’d be landing in Perth by mid-afternoon.
Mum’s flight to Brisbane was set to depart just half an hour before ours. With heavy hearts, we shared our goodbyes and watched her head off.
Things took a turn for the worse shortly after. Our boarding was delayed, and it wasn’t long before we noticed the engine cowling on our aircraft was open—a clear sign something wasn’t right. Given that Hobart Airport is relatively small with limited aircraft maintenance capabilities, this wasn’t exactly reassuring. After a couple of hours of uncertainty, we were eventually rebooked onto a different flight—ironically, one bound for Brisbane—scheduled to depart later in the afternoon.
We had braced ourselves for an unexpected overnight stay at Mum’s, but fortunately, the connecting flight to Perth came through and we arrived home by 10:30 PM local time. While the travel hiccup was far from ideal, it was a small bump in what had been an otherwise fantastic and memorable holiday.
