Heading Down Under

Well, the time has come.  After months of preparing myself mentally for this seemingly mythical trip, it is here.  I thought that after purchasing my plane tickets for New Zealand, it would become real in my mind, but for some reason, it hasn’t quite sunk in as to what I am actually about to do.  I procrastinated for a week prior to my departure, saying initially that I would have my bags packed and ready to go by then.  I had all of my gear in a corner of my room taunting me and beckoning me to act, however, it didn’t end up happening until late the night before.  It took all of a half hour to organize my clothing and gear on my bed, constantly downsizing and objectively predicting what I would actually need.  I am notorious for over packing and in this case, that option isn’t an option.  One pair of pants, a few pairs of skivees, a few pairs of socks, a couple t-shirts, rain jackets, two pairs of wading shorts and pants, camping gear and of course, my fishing gear.  Two packs and two carry-ons later, I had what appeared to be an overwhelming amount of stuff packed tightly into the chosen bags.  It was a strange feeling lugging all of the bags down to the front hall to await being loaded into the car for my drive to the airport the following morning.

I left early, being driven by my sister in law, Christine, on Monday morning to drive the two hours to Milwaukee airport to get to my 12:55 pm flight to Los Angeles.  What I didn’t realize when I booked my flight, was I chose it due to its cheap price and not by where the flight passed through.  I ended up having to fly from Wisconsin to Atlanta to then fly all the way across the country to L.A.  If anyone can tell me how that makes a lick of sense, please feel free to let me know.  Instead of having two potentially shorter flights, I ended up willingly signing myself up for a three-hour flight followed by as long of a domestic flight as they come at around 6 hours or so.  That’s ok though, because I love flying so much.  (Insert sarcasm here).

My flights were uneventful, however, I do have an unbelievable knack at booking seats next to large individuals.  Being a larger guy myself, there isn’t a whole lot of flexibility when it comes down to extra space on airplanes.  I am usually one of the last people on a flight, simply because I could either sit and wait in the tight, constricting space of an airplane seat or I could sit and wait in the luxury of the airport seats with legs stretched out in luxury.  The departure time won’t bump ahead if I board early or late.  When I board a flight, since most everyone is seated ahead of me, I am intently scanning ahead to see who will be my future seat buddy for the next X amount of hours.  I got a little excited when I saw the crown of a white haired lady that looked to be small and compact.  When I reached my row, I immediately noticed she was a little wider in the hips and in addition to that extra width was wearing an aggressively large ankle length puffy winter coat that cascaded into half of my seat.  I assumed she would remove the coat, however, most likely due to her older age, and being cold by nature she remained content with her outer wear choice.  I sat down next to her, passed her the awkward half grin, signaling “hello” and took my seat.  I searched for my seat belt, which she was inevitably sitting on, and pursued to gingerly search until I had to ask her to lift a cheek.  Once I was belted, I felt the pressure of confined space and realized that her coat felt as though its pockets were stuffed with multiple pairs of down mittens, causing an uncomfortable pressure in my side.  Luckily, this occurred on the shorter of the two flights and I wasn’t stricken with claustrophobia for too long.   

I got into Los Angeles that night and was greeted by Les, Zach and my buddy Alex who was nice enough to house us for two nights while we waited for our flight out of the country.  My arrival was met with nothing else but Wild Turkey whiskey, which I haven’t been too accustomed to drinking in the last four months while living at home with Mother.  Needless to say, my brain became a touch fuzzy resulting in a glorious first day in California.  (Insert sarcasm here). 

We didn’t do a whole lot very quickly on Tuesday morning.  We got some breakfast at the Firehouse, which is maybe just under a mile from Al’s house in Venice.  After devouring some chicken fried steak even though the gravy tasted exactly, in my opinion, like Shark Bites fruit snacks, we “rested” a little more once we got back to the house.  We then ventured to Venice Beach, which is a spectacle in itself.  Lot’s of crazies.  I haven’t heard so many people so angrily talking to themselves in such a short amount of time.  There was once guy yelling about a “F#CKING REBATE CHECK!!!”, another woman really angry at something (couldn’t make out what exactly that was), and another guy who was really fed up with his “F#CKING PHONE CHARGER!!!” that was dragging in the sand behind him.  I can totally understand that one.  That damn phone charger dragging like that?  Totally unable to be picked up to prevent the damn thing from dragging in the sand?  “F#CKING PHONE CHARGER!!!” is right.

The rest of our stay in L.A. was fun.  It was pretty relaxed.  We went out to eat a few times, had some laughs and ended our interim in California on Wednesday night.  Our second wave of flights from L.A. to Brisbane, Australia and then Brisbane to Christchurch, New Zealand were a little more eventful.  First of all, the alcohol was free for the entire flight.  We didn’t get out of control with this, however it made the flight a little more doable.  After watching my third movie in a row, I got a little restless, rallied the troops and headed to the flight attendants area to inquire about beer orders.  After grabbing a VB (Victoria Bitter), we went to mess with Les, who was doped up on Ambien and then resided in the galley area between sections on the airplane.  We stayed there for at least 3 or 4 hours, hanging out with various other passengers and conversing with all of the flight attendants.  At one point in the flight we had the curtains closed on both sides, while the flight attendant poured us a shot of rum.  It truly was a different plane experience than anything else I had ever experienced.  When the pilot turned the “Seatbelt” sign back on, we returned to our seats and slept for the remainder of the flight. 

We spent the next 12 hours in the Brisbane airport, being harassed by ridiculously inflated prices.  We bought a sub from Subway and started singing the song, “14….14 dollar….. 14 dollar foot long…..  Pretty depressing.  Other than sit at a food court table, and stare at floor, we spent the rest of the time sleeping on the couches at the terminal.  For some reason, that second flight, which was only three hours long, felt like an eternity.  The anticipation and the fact that we were going on hour 30 of our travel day, made the last lag seem longer and more drawn out.  But, we got to Christchurch safe and sound and were ripping and roaring to start our adventure.  New Zealand, here we come!!!!