The Great Ocean Road

Yesterday I went out on my first solo tour to the Great Ocean Road. The scenery was beautiful and it was nice to take a day off and enjoy getting out of the city. The day started early and lasted until evening so I was wiped by the time I was dropped back off at The Blackman.

There were 24 people in the group, guided by Tracy. Representatives from England, Ireland, Brasil, The Netherlands, France, China, and of course, the good ol’ USA (I was the only one however). There were five others flying solo as well. Half the group were college-aged, six fresh out of “uni” (Aussie term). I learned a lot about the backpacking society through the stories they told as we cruised 550 kilometres around Southern Victoria. I can’t imagine staying in hostels, two to three in a bunk bed (often with complete strangers), sharing a bathroom, and not having any solid plans or place to stay. I suppose this is why one would do it in your youth. As you get older, it seems like you would want to know where you will be laying your head and where you will get your next meal.

Bells Beach

We set off from Melbourne CBD bright and early. It was a good thing that we were headed south and west as the traffic into the city was at a complete standstill for several kilometres (the downside of living on the west end – the trains and trams have not been extended into the newest suburbs). Most of the young ones fell asleep promptly as we headed towards our first destination – Geelong (Ja-long). I was surprised how large this ‘small’ city is. It was twice the size of Reno. Next it was Torquay (Tore-key), home of the Rip Curl Pro – the most sought after Surfing title. We stopped at Bells Beach, known for its surf and we weren’t disappointed. There were many out on their boards waiting for the perfect wave.

Next stop was Aireys Inlet and the Split Point lighthouse, built in 1890 after ten shipwrecks off the coast. After taking some photos and taking in the view we were back on the mini bus and off to Lorne (Lorn), Koala Cove, and Apollo Bay. By now, I had a great appreciation for the Great Ocean Road and the men who built it. The shoreline is mostly cliffs, but you do come across beautiful stretches of beach. Just off the beaches, are rocks that are hidden beneath the surface. You can understand why this is known as the Shipwreck Coast. There are hundreds of wrecks up and down the coast, although none are visible.

Split Point Lighthouse

Along the way we also spotted Koalas in the wild, kangaroos laying next to cows, and a lot of unique birds. Just off the coast are dairy farms providing the best milk in Victoria according to our Victorian-born tour guide. [Side note: the Aussies seem to take more pride in their home city/state than most Americans.]

We also stopped at the Maits rain forest trail and went on a short hike through the trees and ferns. It was significantly cooler and was a welcome relief. It is part of the Great Otway National Park (800 sq metres – big? Small? You tell me.). There are numerous hiking and mountain biking trails all along the Great Ocean Road. Aussies love the outdoors and camping and the area can be quite crowded in the summer months.

The 12 Apostles

Finally it was time for the helicopter ride. When we pulled into the car park, our guide asked who wanted to go on a helicopter ride. I was the only one out of the 24. I didn’t let that deter me as one of the best memories of my 2009 holiday was the helicopter ride over the Great Barrier Reef. The good news is I was a ‘single’ so I moved up to the front of the line and joined a couple from The Netherlands on holiday. Fortunately, I also got to ride in the front as a single. We were off and over the coastline in 2 minutes. We flew over London Bridge, Loch Ard Gorge and the 12 Apostles. Funny story as the original name of the 12 Apostles was the "sour piglets" but it was decided the name was grand enough nor inspirational so they turned to the Bible. What a spectacular sight from the air. It was a short 15 minute ride but worth every penny of the $75 fee. What a fun and interesting job to have. When I came back, there were 9 people from my group waiting to go up. They said I inspired them to go. This was good thing for me as I got to spend a lot of time roaming the trails along the tops of the cliffs.

London Bridge

Loch Ard Gorge

Back on the bus, we headed for London Bridge, an island that used to be connected to the mainland by a rock arch. It collapsed in 1990 stranding two people on the island who had to be rescued by helicopter. Imagine being stuck on a rock and watching your only way off collapse into the water 45 metres below you. The last stop was Loch Ard Gorge. It is named for a clipper than ran aground on nearby Muttonbird Island on 1 June 1878 after a three month voyage from England (it’s final destination was Melbourne). There were only 2 survivors, Tom Pearce  (a cabin steward) and Eva Carmichael (sailed with 5 family members immigrating to Australia), both 18 years old. Tom managed to get to shore but Eva was floating on debris. After rescuing her, they took shelter in a cave and eventually, Tom realised the only way out was to scale the cliffs. He managed to get out of the gorge and bring back help to get Eva out. Whilst many hoped for a romantic ending, Eva was too distrait to stay in Australia so she returned to England.

Eventually all good things must end as we boarded the bus for the long ride back to Melbourne. We were travelling inland and stopped at Colac for a quick dinner. After dinner, it started raining. It was like a cloud was overhead the entire drive back to the city but I counted myself lucky that we didn’t get one drop during the day. There wasn’t a lot of intermixing during the entire tour but on the ride home everyone was visiting and becoming fast friends. As luck would have it, I was the first one dropped off. By now it was raining hard and I could see the possibility of more flash floods (and there were some flash floods but not nearly as bad as the week before). I did enjoy the thunder and lightning from my balcony.

Best day playing hooky ever!

A Brief Commercial Message

Okay, I have to put this on the table. I have ADHD (born and raised on Ritalin, but haven't taken any meds in years). For those who have the ability to concentrate, be appreciative. It is not easy when your brain is wired differently and it is a daily... hour... maybe even minute-by-minute struggle to stay engaged in what you're doing. Even when I'm doing something I like, my brain is constantly misfiring and my thoughts are coming at me at the speed of light yet I can forget what I was thinking before I even finish a sentence. Can you just imagine what it would be like to have ADHD and dementia? Yikes! 


So my point is (and I do have one)...


I typically write my blog and post it. I always go back the next day and reread only to find that it often reads like the the rambling voice in my head. So, my advice to you is to look at the date and time and wait 24 hours. Otherwise, it is at your own peril. Of course, I could wait and post later but there's the whole impatient issue so that's not going to happen.


Now back to your regularly scheduled internet browsing...


PS - Anyone want to venture a guess how long it took me to write this short message??

The Ugly Truth

As I sit through another program, I am compelled to share some not so fun facts of Australia that aren’t in the tourist books. To be honest, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s me (yes, this is a rhetorical question). I’ve heard that there may be some life lessons I should be learning, but apparently I’m not getting the message as some pretty significant obstacles continue to get in my way.

Yummy [NOT]!

Take lunch today. Yes, I am well aware that I’m a picky eater. Old news. Whilst I’m willing to try food, it is not willing to try me. I continually run into opportunities to try new food however, it is rare that I find something I truly like. Texture is an issue for me. I have a very strong gag reflex and well, that's all you need to know. Trust me on this one. So our client serves sandwiches every day for lunch. There are heaps of choices (heaps – a top 10 favourite Aussie word) but all involve some form of spread that is mayonnaise-based and full of strange vegetables and/or meat by-products. The same sandwiches – cut in quarters and served on a tray. Day in, day out. Just sandwiches, nothing else. At times, there are pitchers of warm apple or orange juice (like the Europeans they have an aversion to ice, even when it is 90 plus outside). However, there is always hot tea and coffee. Even the heartiest of eaters have expressed dissatisfaction in the culinary delights provided so it is not just me. Honest! As usual, the program venue is located in a building in the CBD at a high level. You can count on it taking several minutes for the lift to arrive and I can guarantee that it will stop at every floor on the way down. Sigh. Today, I was in front (off to the side) yet I was the last one off the lift as the stampede behind me managed to push me towards the back (no small feat as I am typically quite agile and hold my ground or push forward as in this case). In general, I find myself to be very self-aware in public of where I’m walking, my pace, and potential barriers that can impede my progress. As the traffic here maintains keeping to the left, I have acquired the habit to do the same on the sidewalk as most of the general public does. Of course, you have those few who are totally oblivious to anything and everyone who seem to forget they are not the only ones on the planet. I side stepped no less than eight people on my way to the exit and body slammed no less than three others who were walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk. So again I wonder, is it me? Should I be the one to navigate around those who refuse to conform (typically younger people with their heads down looking at his or her phone)? Or should I continue to let them bump into me? Am I teaching them a lesson or are they supposed to be teaching me a lesson?

No smoking?!

Stepping outside, I was hoping to warm up but there is the cool breeze that blows in from Philip Bay that foiled my plans but I quickly ducked into McDonald’s next door. 

[Side note: Yes, I did swear that I would not eat at Macca’s (Aussie slang) this trip. However, if it is between McD’s and sandwiches, trust me, I chose the lesser of two evils for the short window I had to grab something.]

The place is crowded – as they all are – so I fell into line with the rest of the business suits to patiently wait my turn. I ordered three chicken strips and a Coke Zero for ‘take away’ as I was uncertain that I could find a place to sit. There were options outside but even if it were warm enough, I cannot stomach eating whilst people are smoking. And they smoke in Australia – a lot – in fact, a lot, a lot. It frustrates me that even when the conditions outside are ideal, the opportunity to sit outside in a smoke-free zone is pretty much non-existent. Even if a cafe posts a no smoking sign, typically they will move outside the seating area to smoke. (As a side note, I'm determined to get a picture of these smokers who stand and smoke under the sign a common occurrence!) And for some reason, the smoke doesn’t seem to understand that it is not suppose to cross that invisible line so it really makes no difference (perhaps the smoke can't read the sign? Yes, folks that is sarcasm). 

Messy, messy!

The other habit that I don’t understand is no one cleans up after themselves. It is amazing to me. I have never seen an Aussie pick up after themselves. I guess it is a cultural thing. There are rubbish bins for your garbage yet they go unused. Typically, you have to clean the table yourself. At least I do;  others just push it aside and sit down. Call me picky but I don’t want to sit at a counter with other people’s trash sitting next to me. Again, is it me or is it them? What is the lesson here?

So that is my bitch fest for today. Really, I’m not cranky – just wondering why I can’t seem to go with the flow and not be continually frustrated with people who are oblivious. I know I’m inpatient – I know this is a life lesson I need to conquer before I pass on – but there are those who continually challenge me in other areas and I wonder what I am suppose to be learning. I need to figure it out or I’m destined to make the same mistakes next time around.

Next time I promise to post the wonderful things about this amazing country (and there are many, many, many great and unique things to enjoy)!!

Baseball - Australian Style

After experiencing the record breaking heat wave in Sydney, I was looking forward to a little less intense kind of warm - the kind of warm that doesn't cause of a river of moisture to run down your spine and make you feel like the top of your head is sizzling. So, that didn't happen. Instead, it was rainy (as in flash flood. So much for those new shoes.). And windy (I wasn't fond of that hat anyway). And cool (as in not warm). Too cool for my taste. Strike one.

Didn't cross anything off the list this weekend. I did book a few things to-do in the near future but felt like I wasted a perfectly good weekend by not doing anything new. Or exciting. Or worth mentioning. Strike two.

The gymnasium (or fitness centre) magnet door locked up and could not/would not open. Guess what side of the door I was on? Enough said. Strike three. 

And honourable mention goes to... My next door neighbors are noisy. They speak in loud voices, spend a lot of time going in and out to the balcony and in general, just make a lot of banging noises. This is not a surprise. The shower door. As I mentioned before, the doors here are somewhat tricky (where we pull, they push... remember?). This particularly shower door is a no-win situation. Push or pull, it is impossible not to soak the floor. Did I mention the floor is tile? Slippage is a daily occurrence. 

On a happy note, it was Chinese New Year. Thank God, as I momentarily thought I had stepped out of the Woolworth's and into a riot. Then I figured out all the loud popping noises were not an attack but people celebrating the year of the Rabbit. Sounded like the year to buy ear plugs but I guess if you like loud noises that make it sound like you are in the middle of a war zone then this is the celebration for you. After passing on the bananas which were an amazing $5.98 a pound (thank you cyclone Yasi), I was going to head to the farmers market to see if I could find some fresh fruit that maybe cost a hand or maybe a foot rather than an arm and a leg. But the parade of people was a little too much for me so I opted to head back to the hotel and lock myself in the gym instead. 

The tram was overly crowded and I was challenged to maneuver with my 2 bags of groceries whilst stepping over prams, backpacks, and people in general to make it to the door before the driver decided that someone had pulled a fast one on him (you see, you have to pull a cord or push a button to signal the driver that you want him to stop). Just getting to the button was a challenge as I almost landed in a gentleman's lap. 

So I felt like I struck out this weekend as several intended plans fell through. And I figured out that tentative plans tend to remain just that. So, I proactively booked a tour of the Great Ocean Road for Thursday (best weather day for this upcoming week) and Mary Poppins tickets for Friday night. This still  leaves Saturday in Melbourne as I don't head back to Sydney until Sunday morning (early again... what was I thinking?!). All I know is that I have to figure it out soon or I'll be kicking myself once again for letting valuable time pass me by. 

Honey, I'm home!

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. 

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.