Under a SoHem Sky

It's about time I begin blogging from Down Under. I think I'll organize it by day.

We left for the airport on Saturday morning at a little after 7 for a 9AM flight. I run late. It's who I am. Around Rosemont there was a humongous traffic jam, every lane and entrance merged into one lane. ONE! It was a nightmare. We figured there was construction or an accident. Neither, it turns out. They were fixing the sign above the road that says "Welcome to Chicago!" Who does that?!?! It took forever to travel what usually takes five minutes. I got to the check-in desk and the ticket agent made a face and my heart sank. She called over a manager... you know where this is going. It was 815 for my 9 o'clock flight. She said I'd have to be put on the next one to LA since I was so late and I may not make my connecting flight to Sydney. I begged and pleaded to be let through. As the manager made a call, the agent told me that it takes 90 minutes to go through security for international flights, definitively. I asked it a lot of people were late for their flights that morning because of the evil road doings of the city of Chicago. She had no idea what I was talking about. Then I was given the go-ahead by the manager. And guess what? I went through security in, no joke, seven minutes. Who the fuck was she kidding with that 90 minute nonsense?!?

The flight to LAX was uneventful, except that it happened. I flew United, which seems to always be a risk these days. I slept on and off like in class when you drift off and jerk your head up again, over and over. It was really uncomfortable.

Got to LAX and had a couple hour layover. I had forgotten exactly how much I loathed that airport. To make you go outside to get from terminal to terminal makes my blood pressure spike off the gauge. Finally got checked in at Qantas and all was good. The plane was one of those double decker ones, straight out of the cruise vacation episode of "Growing Pains" or Richard Branson's only way to fly. There was little to no leg room, which could be problematic on a 14-hour flight over the Pacific. A really butch lesbian and her friend with two chins sat next to me and were very loudly talking and laughing and were so incredibly shallow and fake. I immediately hated them. When the plane took off, the double-chinned one asked me to move to a different row, and as much as I wanted to, I didn't want to be nice to them, so I said, "You know, I'd rather not." She moved. I regretted it instantly, wishing that I had in fact moved because I would then be bumped and walked past by all the attendants all flight. It wasn't so bad, though. Except for one flight attendant. We didn't get along at all. There was no leg room and the first person in the aisle seat four rows ahead of me put his/her seat back and forced the person behind to do the same to have any chance at any room. Domino effect. Well the old man behind me must have complained each time my nemesis steward passed because each time they were doing drinks or meals, he was reach into my chair and move it upright as he asked if I could sit up. So the person in front of me had her chair all the way back and mine was all the way front and I had roughly six inches between me and the tv screen I was watching. I immediately moved my chair back into recline. Jackass.

Those are the only complaints I have for Qantas. Very nice airline. Great food, great movie selection. They give you many nice gifts. It was enjoyable. Still, though, it was exhausting. I kept looking at my watch and doing the math in my head... I still have nine hours left....

When I got to Kingsford-Smith, I made my way through customs to baggage claim to the international train station. I was asking the attendant about trains to Pyrmont, when I saw this person across the terminal just standing there. My contacts were really dry and so I couldn't see that far, but it looked like Mary. Then I walked toward her but had to stop because a gate counter was in between us and it took us forever to realize it was the other person. Jeff was downstairs waiting because his feet hurt from exercising in sandals or something. We figured it all out and got on the train toward the Harbour.

Walked from the train station, which is right at the mouth of the QVB (Queen Victoria Building) and walked up inclines and down declines and to the Darling Harbour. It was beautiful. Really incredible at night with all the lights and the water, it was really a sight. Got to their apartment and then went to the Pyrmont Bridge Hotel, a pub down the street. It's Jeff's favourite. It was a cool place. Had my first sip of Toohey's Old and a kebab at the Turkish place next door. I'm sure we'll go back there before we all leave this city.

Went back, tired and not, and blew up the air mattress. Took us an hour before we realized there was an air leak. Then we all went to sleep, me with thoughts running through my head of what this place has to offer and see and write about. Jeff was probably thinking about his feet and his pain, and Mary was surely hoping that melatonin supplement I made her take would drift her off to sleep. She thought about it so much, she was kept awake the whole night. Poor girl.

Well, I'm done writing for now. That was a big one and there will be more, but I've been here at the Pakhi Cafe for an hour and the rain finally let up. I'm gonna go get some lunch and hit up the National Maritime Museum. Catch ya on the flip side....