by LAURA BRODNIK
I am a jinxed traveller.
For whatever reason the Bad Travel Fairy (as my friends and I have come to call her) waved her wand over me at birth and sentenced me to a life of ridiculous travel drama, destined to go down in folklore. Not quite the legacy I was hoping to leave.
I’ve boarded a plane and the window has cracked. I’ve boarded a plane and the pilot has been taken ill. I’ve boarded a plane AND A BIRD FLEW INTO THE ENGINE.
During my days as a rural news editor I was driving through Toowoomba frantically trying to locate the bus station all the time thinking, “I’m nearly there. Nothing can stop me now!”, when I slammed on the breaks to avoid a slew of clowns and a marching band. It seems something could stop me and it was a surprise street parade. Needless to say I missed the bus, the plane and a little piece of my will to live.
I’ve been stuck in my non-air-conditioned car for five hours during a mammoth traffic jam. My tires blew out on the motorway while I was moving to the Gold Coast for a new job, just before I was bitten by a spider.
Once, after my bags were lost at an airport I finally boarded a train only to have the line shut down due to a dead body on the tracks. It was in the pouring rain that my fellow passengers and I boarded a bus that dutifully rolled up to the first set of traffic lights and promptly broke-down.
I wish I was making this up.
At first I thought the curse had been placed just on me as it only struck when I was travelling alone. ‘I’m only a danger to myself,’ I thought happily. But all that changed two years ago when my sisters and I went to Thailand.