The journey that started on Tuesday, with us rushing out of our Lekki abode around 3pm just to be in time for our flight to Dubai, eventually ended, almost 52hours later, when our plane touched down at the Perth Internaional. By this time, we had passed over various terrains. Starting with the Rain Forests of Southern Nigeria, we crossed over the Sahara Dessert and then the Nile, in all its glory, into Dubai. We continued our journey the next day, heading south across the Arabian Sea and then over the Indian Ocean before reaching the western edges of the Australian continent. The journey was long but enjoyable in the comfortable cabins of the Emirate planes and the courtesy limousines provided to pick us and drop us off at the Airports.

Whatever it is with Gold, I am not sure. In Dubai, my wife displayed that feminine attraction to Gold and dragged the family out in the hot and humid weather to the Gold Souk. Despite all my grumblings and the complaints by the kids, by the time we left the Gold Souk, some three to four hours later, I had parted with a sizeable amount of Dollars getting in return a few metals. These, to my senses, were just not value for money. Anyway, my wife was happy and as many married men will confess, once the wife is happy, all is great. While in Dubai, the stay at the JW Marriott was relaxing and the quality of service was just too great. Given that we had spent the previous nights at the Lekki Bellisimo Hotel, it wasn’t too difficult to explain to the kids the difference between “good” and “exemplary”!

Our arrival and passage through the Australian immigration shows that people could still get their jobs done while being courteous to the customers. We had been forewarned about the Australian zero tolerance to plants and animal products that are considered potential threats to the soil, fauna and bio-diversity of the continent. We ensured that we did not have any of such things with us. However, nobody brought our attention to the need to have our Yellow fever vaccination cards with us. As we passed through immigration, I knew it, inside me, that we were going to be pulled over, and we actually got pulled over. The offence? None other than that I did not look like the person in my passport and that we did not have yellow fever vaccination cards. The two officials that were called to attend to us were epitomes of courtesy. They were polite, did the checks that they needed to get done and within minutes, we were on our way to our luggage.

At the carousel, we picked our loads and headed towards the “something to declare” exit since I had with me my set of Golf Clubs and medications, items that I had read online were of potential interests to the quarantine officers. The officer checked what we had, asked a few questions, examined the golf shoes and then we were free. I was amazed at the simplicity with which the team of officers processed us and the other two hundred plus passengers on the flight that landed. They made it look so simple that my thoughts ran to what obtains at the arrival hall of our own dear Murtala Mohammed International Airport in Lagos. Surely, our officers can learn a lot from these courteous Australian officers who are ever so cautious of the fact that they are the first faces of Australia and that first impressions do matter.

Just after collecting our luggage, it seems our luck ran out. We exited into the arrival hall and our expectations that there would be a meet and greet personnel holding high our names was shattered. There simply was no sign of anyone waiting to receive us. Added to this was the quick realisation that my Airtel phone number, which I had requested to be roamed, was not connecting to any network. This digital void and the sheer size of our luggage threw my brains into its supersonic mode – it needed to process all the information available, evaluate the threats and make quick decisions to get us to our Apartment. I changed a few currencies, got to a phone booth and placed a call across to the relocation company. The voice on the other end of the line was friendly and informed that the driver left a couple of minutes earlier when he saw no signs of us coming out of the arrival hall. After a few other calls, the driver was sent back to us. When he showed up, it dawned on him that the vehicle provided was not spacious enough to contain us as well as our luggage. A few more calls later, another vehicle was sent and we breathed a sigh of relief.

In the mild coldness of Perth’s winter morning air, we were driven to the apartment. The driver of our car radiated so much warmth that we soon completed the journey of about twenty minutes without feeling it. He was a chatty person and fed us in with some quick facts about Perth. At the apartment the challenge was to find the receptionist, he simply was no where. I assumed he was probably asleep and we made all the noise we could make but there simply was no receptionist. Calls were made to all the numbers on the front desk, yet the guy was no where to be found. Then, suddenly he appeared. With no apologies and a sense of “why bother me” he checked us in and handed over the keys to the apartment. I was simply stunned and quickly recollected myself realising that some mothers do have ’em. Of all the Aussies we had met so far, he was the worst of the lot. He just dampened my enthisiasm about the people of Perth, whom I have come to consider as very loving and warm to strangers.

At about 3:00am Friday (8:00pm Lagos time) we finally settled into our apartment. What a relief! After such a long journey, the sight of a fluffy bed and cosy interiors was exhilarating.

Life in Perth has just begun.