November 30th, 2014
"Flight to San Francisco, connecting to Sydney, Australia will be two hours late." Those were not the words I wanted to hear to begin the big Australia trip, but what began slightly shaky, became one of the best trips of my lifetime. Sitting in the Kelowna International Airport, with -18 degrees Celsius frigid air outside, I was ready to depart for warmer climates. But at the same time I was slightly confused. This is my first real major trip. The thoughts started to plague me : What am I supposed to feel like? What is Australia going to be like? Am I going to have a good time? Am I going to utterly fail in my swimming competition? And the crucial one - am I going to miss most of my target birds?!
I tried to divert my attention by attempting to get Internet... no battery left. How about chatting with the rest of the athletes who are riding with us... they are all on their wireless devices. So, I resorted to watching the Packers/Patriots NFL game in the bar while I waited out the delay. As it turned out, in the important match, the Packers outduelled the Pats in dramatic fashion.
Finally, the guy who calls out the boarding instructions ( I cannot think of his profession's name )... maybe the "Flight Ussher" or maybe "Delay Giver" announced that the flight is boarding. Quickly rustling up my bags, I hurriedly dashed out of Kelowna International's waiting room and stepped onto the plane. But not before feeling the last of the sub-zero temperatures outside as I walked across the boarding bridge.
Three hours later - San Fran airport. Only a two hour window of downtime, and then we're off on the 15 hour flight to Sydney. At last, after finally finding some decent food at the airport, the Flight Ussher ( this time no delay, so not the Delay Giver ) calls out the flight. I did some tuck-jumps to loosen up the legs before the knowingly long and cramped flight, but it caused some rather un-wanted attention from the lengthy line-up of passengers awaiting to board the plane... but my Team Kelowna athletics outfit kept them at bay; I guess they thought this was part of my hourly routine ( not ). Many more tuck-jumps later, and I'm feeling the last of solid ground for the next 15 hours, hearing the last American accents for the next five weeks, and savouring the last bite of normal food before the three potentially ghoulish airplane meals.
The flight to Sydney was very eventful, and could be a subject of many stories, but I'll try to shorten it up. First, the airline we were riding with ( I won't mention the name ) has arguably the worst leg room of any airline in the US, so trying to sleep was an art of manipulation and toleration. I'll also throw in irritation and aggravation. For the 15 hour, through-the-night flight, I frankly didn't get much sleep. The best I got was flipping my legs up in the air to the window-crevice, and resting my head on the supplied pillow on the arm rest. That's how I slept my three hours. The rest of the time was composed of watching mindless cooking shows, silly movies, etc. on their terrible touchscreen screen on seat in front of me. There were also games supplied, but there was an annoying string of comments such as "You're pushing too hard!", or, "Whenever you push that, my head gets jolted forward!!!", from the lady in the seat in front of mine whenever I tried to do anything. Oh, and just like I expected, the meals were... let's not even talk about the meals. Let's just say I went hungry for 15 hours.
Finally, as the movie Mrs. Doubtfire was finishing, and breakfast, Aussie-time, was being served in my home for 15 hours, the spell-binding coastline of eastern Australia was laid out invitingly out the window of the plane. My heart leapt as we started our decent toward the Sydney International Airport, and we only had half an hour until landing. Of course, being me, as we descended closer to the water, I squinted at the cargo ships below, wondering if perchance a jaeger could be somehow materialized in my eyes perusing the vessel for scraps. Alas, we were still at too far of a distance and I diverted my gaze back toward the rapidly approaching shore ahead. In minutes we were coursing the coastline; flying over the pristine sandy beaches and eucalyptus forests of Australia. I couldn't hardly believe what I was seeing. The aircraft suddenly veered left, and runway was laid out below us. Downgrading it went, and then pop, Australian turf was underneath the plane's wheels. We taxied toward the airport gate, and already I was looking for birds. All of a sudden, a bird snuck into the corner of my eye, soaring high overhead. WHITE-BELLIED SEA-EAGLE!!! I almost couldn't harness my excitement, and nearly yelled it out loud. Gazing at this bird with my naked eye, I admired it's wonderful silhouette, much like a Bald Eagle, but seemingly larger, with much wider wings. My first bird of Australia was actually not a usual airport suspect, such as a starling - who knew? It was fantastic to cross something better off the list to commence the trip. Well, the next species I noticed was indeed a jolly old European Starling. After several minutes of criss-crossing the runway, we at last pulled up to the boarding gate. I jumped up out of my seat, stretching my legs all the while, and hustled up my bags. We then walked down the long aisle of the interior of the plane, and seemingly after a endless time, with heart beating, I stepped out of the plane and into the embracing warm air of Australia.....
To be continued...
Logan
