Warning: Not responsible for eye bleeds or bumps on the head when your head hits the counter because this one is rather long winded... Read with caution!
This morning when my alarm went off at 5am ("I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind...there was something so pleasant about that place") and was thinking I was "Crazy" (name of the song that is my alarm) for booking an early flight. (Yes, I'm feeling a little punchy this evening but you'll see why soon.) Oh well, not a lot can be done to change that so I sucked it up and jumped in the shower. I am ready early and decide I might as well head over to the airport. After checking out, I walked out of the hotel and the bellman is no where to be found. There is, however, a driver with a cubby (Australian for van) waiting outside. He immediately leapt on me and tried to take my suitcase. He kept saying (in broken English) "I go to airport after a few stops"... meanwhile I'm thinking about the warning signs at the airports that say to not accept rides from anyone other than a certified driver and taxi company, but he does have a sign on his vehicle and it is only $14 and then I start thinking my flight is at 7:30 and getting to the airport at 6:30 might be cutting it close (which turned out to be a preminition, more on that later).... then I started thinking about coffee, and should I eat breakfast on the muffin or stick with the cereal on the flight, and oh yeah, I need to remind Erin about using Green on the CS Coaching materials, and I should have left out a sweatshirt because I'm bound to get cold on the plane, and I still need to book my Great Ocean Road tour, and I wonder what the weather will be next Saturday, and I'd better remember to wear sun block, and that reminded me I had gift cards to Legends to use and I needed to go to Bath and Body Works, and then I couldn't remember if I put my gum in my backpack or my suitcase, and I hoped my cookies didn't get smashed, and I should do laundry when I get to Melbourne, and then tried to remember if I actually brought fabric softner, and speaking of fabric softner my lease is up in May and I should decide if I want to move or not and if I stay, I need to have some paint touched up and get my carpet cleaned again, and I need to remember to pick up the Mary Poppins tickets, and then the song "A Spoonful of Sugar" starts playing in my head... and YES, the guy is still trying to load my bags and I had to stop and think for a minute... what was going on?? That's right... do I go with the potential serial killer who smelled funny or do I get in a silver taxi that I know is legit? (Obviously, I went for the legit or I wouldn't be blogging!)
As I was saying, I arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. What is cool about Australia and Qantas is the whole check-in process is completely automated (or so I thought). I went to the kiosk to officially check-in my bag since I checked in the day before per usual (important because Qantas does not let you select a seat. They assign a seat and 24 hours before your flight you can change it (providing there are still seats available). ANYHOOT, I thought I was smart and weighed my bag before actually checking it it. 28 kg... perfect, I'm under the 30. So I merrily slap on the bag tag (which is trickier than one might think but this was not my first rodeo). I then go to the bag checker thingy and throw my bag on the belt (yeah, right! I heaved it up very gingerly) and scan my boarding card. WARNING! Red light goes off and tells me my bag is 28 kg and would I like to pay the $50 on credit card. WHAT?? Of course, I should of read the fine print (okay so it was in red and not exactly 'fine' print but still) that business gets 30 and steerage people get only 23. Oops! Fine, I expense it anyway so whatever. I wait and the bag doesn't go anywhere so I grab it and look for some help. A kind woman from Qantas told me you pay at the kiosk, okay duh. Again, Murphy at play here and I could not figure out how to do anything other than reprint a bag tag (this caused issues later on). I had to go back and ask again and after some eye rolling because I was suppose to leave my bag on the belt she marched me back over only to find out that, indeed, the bag would not go (vindication for once). Yikes, this is turning into a novel and I haven't gotten to the really good parts of my day. Let's just say I saw the downside of self-service baggage check-in. At least security is easy... take out your laptop and done. Coffee. Muffin. Book store. New book "The No Asshole Rule" (yes, I downloaded 8 books on my Kindle before coming to Oz but I could not resist this one).
Arrival in Melbourne (always a joy to land here as it is very much like Reno and you can count on some great bumps). Hop, skip and a jump, gate 1 to carousel 1 and here come the bags. Only not the bags from my flight. No worries. An hour later. Still no bags. Oh, other flights have come and gone (three to be exact) but no QF413 from Sydney. I had walked down to the baggage service (along with 20 other people) as the lady was trying to explain to someone that the bags weren't delivered. "Oh yeah? Well you can come up to the desk and see all the people who are still waiting?" Guess she told him because she hung up and said that the bags were forgotten on the plane but would be arriving soon so go back to carousel 1. Really, how do you 'forget' to upload luggage? That is a new one! Eventually they did come out... on carousel 4. In the meantime, the car service called three times to make sure I was okay. At least someone was looking out for me. The pick up for is up on the first level at Qantas International First Class which meant trudging up the escalator with multiple bags (the beast, a roller bag and dreaded back pack). As I was going up, the woman in front of me turned and about knocked me over as she stepped down a few steps. I was barely holding on as my big bag was slipping off the step and my other bag had fallen over. I'm holding my breath to get to the top without making a spectacle of myself and had just let my breath out when this dumb woman stops at the top and I fall over myself and my bags. Then she proceeds to give me a dirty look. REALLY? I just told her that she could consider me a 'rude' American as I was obviously at the wrong place at the wrong time.
By now I am feeling the pain of my 5am wake up call and just want to veg in the back of my charcoal Holden but once again, I get a gabby driver who wants to know my life story. Sigh. I gave him the abridged version since he didn't give up easily.
It was nice to arrive at The Blackman, where I once called home. My favourite employee, Ashley, was working and immediately said she would find me a better apartment. They needed 30 minutes to get it ready so I headed to Gloria Jeans and again was welcomed by my friends who own the franchise. So nice to be home in Australia! I did get a great room with a view and proceeded to get settled. I decided to do a little laundry, which was an exercise in patience as all things are with me. I was on the 14th floor and the closest washer/dryer is upstairs on the 16th. Because I hate lifts, I decide to use the stairs. I'm not sure why but I went down 2 floors every time instead of up. The good news is I got quite a workout but the bad news is I was continually frustrated by going the wrong direction (this is generally how I live my life so one would think I would be used to it by now. I'm not.).
Since Denise was in town we decided to meet up for dinner. Another thing I love about Melbourne is the tram system. It is so easy to walk out the door and hop on the train. It was a tad crowded since it was after 5 but still my preferred travel method in the city. We decided just to walk until we happened upon a place we wanted to eat. We found an Italian outdoor cafe that wasn't crowded and had a good view of the pedestrian area for people watching. As it turns out, it was also going to be next to the water. After eating, the light sprinkle turned into a torrential downpour and you get what they mean when they say "it's raining cats and dogs." As it turns out, it is part of the cyclone Yasi that hit Queensland two days ago. When it appeared to lighten up, Denise and I parted ways (she has an early flight to Sydney tomorrow) and I was just plain tired. I chuckled as I watched all the people out and about without an umbrella and even thought it was funnier when a couple, thoroughly drenched, jumped on the tram and then worried about getting "soaked by the wet seat." They were both literally dripping. I was pretty sure they would get the seat wetter than the other way around but we are in the Southern hemisphere where everything is backwards so maybe it does work that way. By the time I got back to the hotel, it had turned into a flash flood and I had to wade through 12 inches of water on the roadway to make it back to the hotel. It was strange to have water lapping at the sides of the sidewalk sounding like the beach. By then my feet were soaked but I still jumped every time the water came close to me. Instinct, I suppose.
So the rest of my days don't need to be this exciting. Hopefully, Murphy will give me a break since he was all over me today. See, I told you I was feeling a little punchy... we all know how this is going to turn out. Guess I should just go to bed.
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