Here we go again...

Less than 48 hours into my return I'm convinced I never left. Maybe it was a dream [being home] or maybe not as I did manage to have fun Sunday. Yes, you heard [read] right... I had fun. The 'no work, didn't even think about work kind of fun' fun. Susan (a MH colleague) recommended we go to the Annie Leibovitz photo exhibit at the Sydney Museum of Contemporary Art and a visit to Doyles at Watsons Bay. The exhibit was just okay, too many depressing photos. For someone who photographs babies, she has a dark, depressing side as well. After an hour or so of browsing, we headed over to the ferry at Circular Quay ("key"). As usual, there was a lot of activity, including a man dancing with a mannequin. It takes all kinds, I suppose. I was strangely enamored by the MS Volendam, a Holland America cruise line that I spent two weeks touring New Zealand, Tasmania ultimately ending in Sydney in 2009.  I took about a dozen pictures (not that I already didn't have at least that many) but none in Circular Quay.  When we sailed into Sydney we were docked at Darling Harbour. It did bring back a lot of great memories of my last real holiday. We bought our tickets and some water while we waited. Once the ferry arrived and we headed upstairs for a great view of the bridge and Opera House. Because it was a smaller boat that made quick turns, you were not allowed to stand upstairs. If there were no seats, you were instructed to stay downstairs. Of course, that didn't stop people from coming upstairs and standing. They had an employee who constantly had to advise those who could not (or would not) read the sign that they had to have a seat or stay downstairs. My favorites are the ones who pretend not to understand him but spoke perfectly fine English before he arrived. It's all in the look... the "no comprehend" look that a child gives you when you tell them they cannot have ice cream for dinner or play on the computer after bedtime. I myself have never played that game. No, really. I haven't. Recently anyway. Well, depends on what you mean by recent. It is a green word, after all. Once again, I digress...

After a quick 30 minutes we reached Watsons Bay and Doyles. By then I was sufficiently hungry (my coffee and muffin had long worn off) so I was ready for a good lunch. Established in 1885, the restaurant is right on the beach and offers a spectacular view of Sydney. The menu offered a wide variety of seafood. Even the fish and chips had 5 selections of fish to choose from. I ended up having the grilled Tasmanian salmon with apple and pear chutney and Susan had barramundi, a local favorite and oysters. I also indulged in an adult beverage as we sat on the patio watching plates of lobster and crabs go by. The food was terrific (good thing as it was spendy) and I will definitely go back before I head home. Next time I'm thinking dinner at sunset. 


Afterwards, we walked through Robertsons Park and out over the cliffs of the entrance to Botany Bay, a perfect vantage point for protecting the colony back in the day (although I'm not sure why convicts needed protection as they were the first inhabitants of this country). After exploring the area, we headed back to the ferry to return to the city. By then I realised I hadn't applied my sun block very well as a splotchy sunburn started to appear. I bought a hat but it was too little, too late. All in all, it was a great way to spend a Sunday in the city. A truly gorgeous day (sunburn and all) and knowing it was snowing back at home made it that much more enjoyable. 


But alas, all fun must eventually come to an end as I realised this morning when I woke up at 5am knowing it was a work day. At least I kept another promise to myself and managed 45 minutes of cardio. Last time around, not only did I not have fun, I didn't even manage to keep up with my workout schedule. I made a promise to myself that I would not let that happen again (besides, I hate tight clothes). I left the Four Points and walked the six blocks to Saxtons on Kent Street with a side detour at the Wynard train station to get my coffee. As soon as I walked into the bowels of the train station, I realised I never left. There is a steamy feeling as you enter the tunnel that does down into the station and as usual, I'm fighting my way upstream as the masses exit the station. I know this place and after going down the stairs two rights and a left and there it is... Gloria Jeans. The guy immediately recognized me and said 'the usual?' He also wanted to know where I've been. He looked at me strange when I said 'home' because he thought I was an Aussie and I was already 'home.' I suppose in some sense home is where you are, so I am, indeed, 'home'... for now. 

Welcome to Australia... When Are You Leaving?

And I'm back. And apparently, my arrival was an international incident. And not because I brought granola or popcorn (trust me, that lesson was learned the hard way). But can you imagine, that little ol' me caused a red flag to go off as I [tried to] gain entry into this fine country. But let's back up the plane...

As many of you know, my enthusiasm was somewhat subdued this time around. Don't get me wrong, I love Australia but I was just getting used to being home and sleeping in my bed so I wasn't quite ready to give that all up. But, then again, it is summer here so... okay, I'm convinced. Or I thought I was until I realized it involved packing. Again. Packing is a lot like dessert. You think you want it until you realize that in theory, dessert is awesome but the reality is you will eventually regret the decision. It means you get to satisfy your sweet tooth and indulge in something sinful like chocolate cake. So I'm thinking I'm going to Australia. Summer. Fun. Then it is "oh yeah" I'm going back for work. So what does that mean? How much business attire do I really need? Then it is about the shoes. Then it is about hoodies and sweaters (and yes, I do have over 100 sweaters, hoodies, and sweatshirts). And what about a purse? Do I bring one? Should it be black or brown? So it's about the decisions you are forced to make. And like dessert, you are usually regretting it by the end when you realize you should have made a different decision but it's too late, the damage is done. When you get to your destination there is no going back. Those pants you decided you didn't need, you figure out it was the perfect pair of pants and all you can think is 'why did I leave them at home when I really, really need them.' Yeah. You get it. I'm right, packing sucks!

Eventually you are forced to figure it out so I came up with a brilliant packing plan Wednesday night. The jury is still out on that one so time will tell if my packing plan works. I wanted to bring the smaller suitcase but couldn't get away from the steamer truck (figuratively of course, but it is a back breaker). I head out the door at 12:30 sharp. In a mere 25 hours I'll be in Sydney and it will be all so worth it. Yeah, no. 

View from lavatory

Fast forward through 3 flights, 2 layovers, 3 meals, 4 movies, 6 sitcoms, a lot of extra bumpy turbulence, a lavatory with a window,  non-toxic insecticide, and wha-la I'm now in Australia. As you walk off the plane, you are greeted by large signs welcoming you 'Down Under.' For me, this was not the case. As luck would have it, I am first in line at immigration. I smile warmly at the Sheila (female version of a bloke) and hand her my entrance card and passport. She looks at it and asks how long I'm staying. Five weeks I reply. Why are you here? Business. (Trust me, this was all on the card so I wasn't sure if she couldn't read or was trying to trick me.) Soon, I knew the answer. I was asked to go with an immigration officer who simply said "follow me." This, to me, was asking for trouble. I jokingly said "are you sure you don't want Murphy instead of me?" But alas, she had no sense of humor. Soon I was sitting in a room with a young man who interrogated me on my reason for coming to Australia. I patiently (oh, I know what you are thinking but trust me, I was very patient for an impatient person. I did realize this wasn't the time or place to get testy.) So after explaining why I was back in the country and some reassurance that I indeed had a return flight back to the states (he asked me to prove it) it was decided I could stay for my five weeks. Lucky me! 

Happily, I went and got my luggage trolley to retrieve my bags. Only I had no bags to retrieve. Can't say I was all that surprised as the newbie who checked my bags in Reno didn't inspire much confidence when she tried to tell me that Air Canada did not fly to Australia OR Sydney (I briefly toyed with the idea with telling her that Sydney was IN Australia but I figured it would be too much information for one day). It was with a sense of dread I waved goodbye to my 2 bags, unsure if I would truly see them down under. Turns out, I was right. But again, they some how managed to get them to me so my next task was to got through customs. By now there are several international flights and I'm like the salmon swimming upstream as I try to get to the express lane for first and business class travelers. The very kind lady directed me to lane one then decided to send me to lane 2. WARNING. You don't want to be in lane 2. It's a trap, Luke, it's a trap! (If you are wondering where that line is from, it's Princess Leia yelling at Luke Skywalker in Empire Strikes Back when he gets to Cloud City to rescue her and his other friends only to find out that Darth Vader [aka daddy] set a trap to encase him in carbonite so the evil emperor can convince him to turn to the dark side and... where was I? Oh yes... quarantine). SO as I was saying, the bitch decided to mess with me again (she was obviously in cahoots with Murphy) and sent me into an abyss with a bunch of non-English speaking Asians. Long story, short it was another lesson in patience that I did not pass). Whatever.

AND THEN I get the chatty cabby who wants to talk American politics. Seriously, Punjabi? I'm really not in the mood. And before you think I'm making some racial slur, that really was his name. Really. It's just not a subject a cranky American wants to discuss after a 15 hour flight and 1.5 hour endurance run through immigration and customs. So no offense, but I don't want to take about the president, the economy, casinos, or any other subject. I just want to get coffeed up and relax at the hotel.

And there you have it. My first three hours in Australia. This trip is going to be f-u-n FUN! I just have that feeling. So now if I call you and need to borrow some money to make bail you'll understand why. Thanks, Murphy. 

And the Boom-a-rang Returns...

In just over 48 hours I'll begin the long trek back to a land Down Unda... So instead of packing, I sit here playing Angry Birds, downloading books from Amazon to read on my Kindle (well, really my iPad) and just about anything other than what I should be doing. Go figure (like that never happens). I just hate packing. Love traveling, hate packing. Did I say hate? I meant loath.

So anyway, I'm headed back to Australia. This time for five weeks. And I have a plan. It will not be all about work. It will be about making up for lost time. It will be about having fun and checking off a few items on the bucket list. Like Philips Island and The Great Ocean Road. This time will be about keeping my blog current with my many adventures.

So look out , OZ! I'm coming back with a vengeance! You tried to spit me out (twice, in fact) but like a boom-a-rang, I just come back. You may want to duck...