This is the story of my 35 hour journey home.So my time in Oz has come to an end, for now ;). First I wanted to say that time differences are just kooky. I left Australia at 2:30pm on May 26, 2010. I flew first to San Fran and after 13 hours in the air I arrived there before I left Oz! Also even thou I left on a Wed at 2:30pm and travel for 35 hours I arrived in Halifax at 1:20pm on Thursday May 27th. Weird!
Anyway, Charli and the boys dropped me off at the airport. We said our goodbyes and hugs all around before I went through customs. Some people enjoy the transit/travel part, but I hate it. Airports have a very hurry up and wait system to them. You have to be early for everything then wait hours to board. So after clearing Australia customs I sat around the airport for 3 hours waiting to board.
After boarding my plane I settled in for a 13 hour flight to San Fran. I thought this was short seeing as it took over 16 hours to get to Sydney from the same place. Still though 13 hours is a decent sized flight. I was lucky because in a row of 3 seats there was only myself by the window and a man on the aisle. It allowed for a little extra room for the sleep I didn't get. I made chit chat with the fellow I was sitting with, but mostly kept to myself. He was nice enough, but definitely American. I asked him a question about my customs form that we had to fill out. Since I wasn't staying in the states I was unsure what to put for the address/US destination. he told me just to put where I was headed in Canada. Then he said "I mean, Canada is America as America is Canada." My instinct is to raise my voice and correct this fellow as to why that statement is more than false, but I was aware that I was currently sitting on a vessel suspended in mid air surrounded by a large percentage of Yanks. Probably not the best idea to start shouting about why Americans suck, even if we all know it is true. However I could not let this comment pass uncorrected. I simply said, in a very controlled tone, "No it is not." I left it at that.
The flight was fine. A few movies, small portions of barely passable food, ya know. So we were approaching land and I knew that the longest flight of my journey was down! Then the aircraft look a left turn away from the land. WTF!? Where are you going!? We are going that way! Then the pilot came over the speakers....... He informed us that we would be entering a holding pattern, no far from the airport because President Obama was currently leaving San Fran, so we were not allowed to land. So we stayed in the holding pattern for almost an hour. This wouldn't normally be a problem because this flight I was on went straight through to New York, where I was headed. Normally being the operative word in that sentence. What I consider normal and what Homeland Security considers normal apparently fall into completely different categories.
They informed us on the plane that all passengers must disembark, clear customs & immigration, pick up checked luggage, clear checked bags through customs, re-check our bags, clear security and then board the same flight to New York. I am no security expert but I do believe that if I wasn't a terrorist when I boarded in Sydney, then chances are that I didn't change in the 13 hours I was on the plane. However according to Homeland Security I may have, and every person must go through this as soon as they touch down in the U.S. Fine, fair enough! You guys enjoy to instill fear into your residents and put on a show that you are prot
ecting the country, I will play along. However! Originally we were scheduled 2 hours to take care of all this crap, but thanks to President Obama we were left with 45 minutes from the time I left the plane. Also they insist on having all these ridiculous security procedures but have no idea how to carry them out in an organized fashion. So I made it back on my flight to New York, but just by the skin of my teeth.
After a little over 5 hours and a nose bleed later we landed in the sprawling city of New York. I know that this would be the tough part. I had to wait a grueling 13 hours in JFK to catch a 2 hour flight home. I had to collect my checked baggage when I got off, but was unable to re-check it until 3 hours before my flight. They had the little carts to wheel your bags around on, but they cost $5.00 and wouldn't unlock unless you paid up. So I grabbed my two large suitcases, threw my backpack on my back and my purse over my shoulder and headed off to make some sense of JFK. I was pushing one bag in front of me and pulling one behind me, I was pretty loaded down and looking for a bathroom. When I found one it had a turn knob on the door. So I was trying to kick open the door and pull all my stuff through the door. While I was struggling with this two women stood behind me waiting for me to get through the door without ever faining an interest in helping me. Welcome to New York!!! I had to ask for directions to my terminal and every employee I encountered was extremely rude. To them I say 'Ya know, stereotypes are made for a reason!!'
After finding my terminal and a payphone I put in a collect call to my mother. Partially to let her know that I was back in the Northern hemisphere safe and sound, but more to just talk to someone friendly and familiar. I had only slept for about 2 hours combined during the 21 hours I had been traveling, I was hungry, missing Oz, and thinking of seeing everyone at home. So the sound of my mothers voice made burst into tears. At first I think she thought something had gone wrong but good ol' Ma soon realized that I was simply over tired, hungry and homesick. Mom and Dad graciously talked to me for a while. It is amazing what a few words from home can do. I am so lucky to have such wonderful parents who are always there without question.
After a good talk with the rents I went to find a bench or piece of floor and hunker down for the
night with the goal of getting a little sleep. I slept a little after finding the one bench without arm rests. It wasn't a restful sleep and it wasn't very long. I was uncomfortable, and half worried about someone stealing my bags. I quickly learned that the people around here would stel your bag and then spit on you because you didn't have any money. I spent time reading, listening to music and writing until I couldn't sit any longer. I check my bags as early as I could and chilled out at my gate waiting 3 hours for my flight number to be called. As the time drew near I went into the bathroom, gave myself a baby wipe bath and changed my clothes. My regular routine when flying is to spend at least the half hour before my flight walking around the gate because I know that soon I will be sitting for an extented period of time. So I was walking around the gate, around the chairs, over by the window just sauntering around. Once when I was walking up one of the aisles a man passed me in the opposite direction. This man looked right at me and gave me the creepiest look I have ever gotten. He automatically gave me the heebs. He gave me the look that made me think he was the unsub. He continued walking back out of the gate towards the bathroom and I a felt more at ease that he wasn't still in the area.
As I continued to walk around more people were arriving at the gate to board this flight to Halifax. I walked around a huge pillar and BAM!! There was the unsub standing right in front of me!! He scared the shit out of me and before I had a chance to respond he said "Where ya going?" In a very unsuby type tone of voice. This man made me increasingly uncomfortable and continued to ask information gathering type questions as I was trying to break raport and get the hell outa there. Then he told me he was from Alaska and was going to visit a friend in Cape Breton. He told me that he raced dog sleds and has for a while. I was not making conversation with this fellow and was trying to find a good opportunity to walk away, but I didn't want to be too abrupt because he might just kill me. So then he pulled a picture of his dog team out of his pocket and showed me. Then he asked for my name. He caught me off gaurd because normally I would have given a fake name but I impulsivly said my real name, and I
immediately kicked myself for doing so. Then he took out a pen and autographed the picture of him and his dog sled. He then said that if I was ever in Alaska and wanted to learn how to mush dogs his e-mail and phone number were on the back. I took the picture, stuffed it in the my bag, said thanks, and walked away. Enough is enough on the crazy scale. So later when I looked at the picture I noticed that this fellow was actually the winner of the 1984 Iditarod! It still doesn't make him any less crazy/creepy and I still think he is the unsub but I now have an autographed photo of the 1984 Iditarod champ. There is more to the story but that is all I will share for now.
Many of you have been wondering what will happen to my blog now that I am back. Well the answer is that I have enjoyed doing it as much as you have enjoyed reading it so I am going to continue to do it for the summer while I am in Nova Scotia. Granted it won't be half as exciting as when I am in Oz but I am sure I can come up with some pretty good tales of adventure while I am in Nova Scotia. Also the other big question that people have been asking is how long am I here for? Well the answer to that is my goal is to be back in Oz by September. I do however look forward to a summer filled with adventure, family and friends. Stayed tuned for the tale of a jet-legged apple blossom festival!
