How do I get there from here?

Well I made it to my hostel in Sydney in one physical piece, although I think I left my sanity at the airport. Flight ended fine. I was one of the first off, and then it was straight to the toilet before a detour to maccas for some much needed sustenance and then on to baggage claim.

I devoured my mcchicken burger as I watched my case go around the carousel a couple of times. I was too starved to bother putting the burger down even for a second. A quick phone call to the hostel informing them that I had arrived and it was off to the shuttle meeting point to get picked up.

That’s where the problems started. Now I’ve always found that when traveling in a new place the best way to not make a bunch of mistakes is to ask a bunch of questions. That policy didn’t work this time. Not at all.

The first shuttle driver I met I asked if he was the one who was supposed to take me to the Funk House Hostel. “Oh yes they just called me” he replied. Then my massive case was loaded into the back of the van, I was loaded into the front and there I remained in the shuttle bay for the next 2o minutes. The next thing I knew my case was back on the ground and I was told that I had to wait another few minutes for a different shuttle. “Do I go back to the terminal meeting point?” I queried. “Nope stay here.” And that’s what I did – for another hour. I asked every driver what was going on. No one knew. I called the hostel, and they were less than helpful.

Finally I made my way back to the meeting point. There I waited for another 45 minutes. And after another 3 calls to the hostel my driver finally arrived. I was fuming. Two hours waiting all because a shuttle driver from a different company had thought he could make a quick buck off of me and confused the hell out of me. I was not impressed.

On the up side the hostel is decent. Cleanish, and not too noisy considering it is on what is basically the sex strip of Sydney. Only for a few nights, I keep reminding myself, and hardly any time will actually be spent at the hostel.

After somewhat settling in I started on the task of making my bed – not fun when it’s the top bunk. Why does the shortest one always end up on the top bunk? It just doesn’t make sense. I then made my way past all of the glowing signs for gentlemen’s clubs, VIP rooms and lingerie shops to the Coles, where I purchased my dinners and lunches for the week.

So now I have once again returned to the security of my top bank to chow down on rice crackers and canned chicken. It really isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’ve met my bunk mate Kyle, and he seems decent.

Now to go about planning the next couple of days so that I keep myself busy and not get too homesick before Saturday rolls around.

I hate scales

I’ve made it through check in, through security and onto the airplane – and now I’m airborne on my way to Sydney for the first time.

Luckily my wait in line for check in was minimal, not giving my sense of dread about weighing my luggage to build to too great of a level. As I very awckardly hoisted my monster of a case onto the platform I crossed my fingers as the numbers of the scale crept higher and higher. Only 500g over, not bad at all. Until the wonderful attendant informed me that it would be an extra $26 charge for that 500g. Being flustered I ridiculously paid the fee instead of taking a few seconds to consider what I might be able to remove. Well at least they didn’t bother to weigh my carry on, which was well above the 7 kilo limit.

From there it was quickly through security. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve passed through those ominous metal detectors. It doesn’t even phase me anymore.
Whew only an hour until boarding now. Got my pain killers and water for my developing headache; although, now that I’m on the plane it really isn’t doing much. Plus my refusal to purchase any more food products is starting to annoy me as the smells of snacks being consumed are filling the cabin. Hopefully my hunger can hold out for the next hour and a half.

I had an exciting moment during my wait. Two girls that are on the Aussie show Winners and Losers were at the airport. First Australian celebrity sighting.
One good thing came of my extra baggage fee. I think the host took pity on me and I’ve been placed in row two with a window seat and no one beside me. That’s not too shabby. There is a man in the same row as me, he seems to be a washed up surfer who still thinks he’s really cool. I was drumming my fingers on my laptop while I was waiting for it to start. The glare he gave me informed me that he didn’t appreciate my expression of boredom. I’m sure that this tip-tapping of keys is trying his patience to the extreme, especially because my latest quick glance across to him showed him with closed eyes and a furrowed brow. You can’t please everyone.

I’m really starting to get hungry now. Too bad the only menu in this row is in the seat pocket in front of mr. grumpy. He doesn’t look asleep enough for me to reach over and grab it. Alas I will continue to sit here, belted into my seat for the next hour. Can’t we just land already?

The only game that I have on this computer is chess. I hate chess and am horrible at it. I can’t even win when I’m playing on easy mode with the computer giving me hints. Why didn’t I think to download another more exciting game? I could watch a movie, except those are all packed in my case, which is (hopefully) stowed under me in the plane. I really hope it is, because what am I going to do if my luggage gets lost?
This is what happens when I have too much time on my hands and nothing to do, or to eat. I ramble.

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

This post is coming to everyone via the Hudsons Coffee stand at Adelaide Airport. It really isn’t that exciting. Getting here nice and early to save money on a shuttle seems to have backfired, as I just spent over $10 on coffee and a breakfast muffin, and with three hours until my flight I’m guessing hunger is going to set in again. It isn’t helped by the incredible boredom at all. All of the shops are through security. To get through security I need a boarding pass, and to get one of those I need to be able to check in for my flight. That’s not going to happen for another hour yet… well 56 minutes, but who’s counting?

Sadly this isn’t even an area where a great extent of people watching can be done. There’s the old man with his wife who is sitting over by the foreign exchange booth. He seems to be suffering from some sort of allergy, as he is constantly rubbing his very red and watery eyes. There is the friendly, but half deaf information man, who was the one who kindly directed me to the coffee stand. He’s doing a fair bit of wandering and directing. Other than that there are just a bunch of other bored looking passengers waiting for flights, or lifts from the airport, or people to arrive on flights.

Oh, that was interesting. This short little man that obviously works here just came out of the secure area with his hood all pulled up around his face and a very suspicious garbage bag in his clutches. I know that it’s nothing… he’s probably the cleaning man, but I’m bored and have to make up something to keep entertained.

There is the cute guy that came to the coffee shop after me. The unfortunate part is that he chose a spot to enjoy his beverage that is directly behind me. Therefore, if there is to be any ogling it would be extremely indiscreet… so again I must just imagine.

It isn’t even the boredom that is making me want to just be through security already. I know that my poor luggage is overweight and I just want to get through check-in without having to pay exorbitant fees. It’s just eating away at me that I might have to toss even more stuff than the three bags left at Ally’s and the two left in Melbourne. How on earth did I accumulate so much in only eight months?!

Hmm I’m almost out of coffee. Now I am out of coffee. Forty-five minutes until I can check in. Do I splurge and buy another cup for a crazy $4, or maybe get that yummy chocolate muffin that has been calling my name since I sat down? Or do I suck it up and just keep waiting without sustenance to take my mind off the slow moving hand of the big clock over the international arrivals area?

There goes a backpacker. He was kind of cute. I don’t know how people can cram enough into those packs to last for their travels. Volume wise I seem to have been able to consolidate my stuff down, but I’m still lugging around about 35 kilos, and I wouldn’t be at all happy to have all that weight on my back. I should mention that my limit for this flight is only 32 kilos, and for my next flight it is a measly 30! That is unless I suck it up and pay the $50 for excess, and get a whopping 7 kilos extra. Woohoo!

Sadly it will be this weigh in today that will determine whether more of my hard earned money gets sucked up by the multi-billion dollar travel industry.

Down to 39 minutes until check in. Now I think I’m almost glad that I have a little bit longer because that coffee really isn’t sitting well. Or perhaps it was the apple I attempted to eat for breakfast. It taught me a very valuable lesson that you shouldn’t eat fruit right after brushing your teeth because it makes it almost impossible to tell if it’s rotten or not.

Oh a plane just got in. There are the pilots and flight attendants. They don’t look as tired as I would have guessed. Maybe I should learn French so that I can be a flight attendant in Canada. That might be fun. Or I might want to shoot some of those annoying passengers that seem to freak out over every little noise and complain about everything. That wouldn’t be so fun. I might become famous like that flight attendant that jumped from the plane after getting pissed off. Not sure I want to become famous for that reason.

Well it’s now only 34 minutes until I can check in. Time to get my belongings together, make my way to the toilet and stand in line, before waiting for another two hours. Yay.

If I roll it will it fit better?

This post is courtesy of my procrastination in regards to packing... once again. At this point I think I have repacked at least a dozen times, and I'm wholeheartedly sick of it. One conclusion I've reached: I am definitely not a backpacker. I like my clothes (and shoes) too much, and it's heartbreaking to even think of leaving one skirt or sandal behind. Alas that is what must happen, unless I'm willing to pay a few hundred dollars in excess luggage fees... which I'm definitely not.

I'm down to technically only 10 days left here in Australia. I'm not counting today because it's half over and I'm doing nothing except packing which is boring, and the last day I'll be at the airport by 10am so that doesn't count either.

I've had a good time here in South Australia, and I'm looking forward to the next few days. Hopefully see some more of the beautiful countryside and visit a few more friends before it's off to Sydney.

I finally was able to meet up with an old friend from Golden, who I hadn't seen in years. She now has a baby. All these babies and weddings are definitely making me wonder what I've been doing with my life. Then I look back at all my memories and smile. I've done a lot.

I picked my last bunch of grapes (hopefully forever) last Friday, and then got to enjoy an end of season bbq with my fellow pickers. I am now officially unemployed here in Australia - and am loving every minute of it!

Well, my guilty conscience is starting to nag again. I really should at least move all of my crap off of Ally's bed before she gets home. That's my incentive to do something with all of my accumulated stuff. And in only 12 or 13 days (depending on how you want to calculate with all of the time changes) I will be unpacking again back in Canada.

Blood, Sweat and Memories

I believe that this blog is past due for a bit of a light-hearted post. I've packed up from my travels and moved down to Adelaide for a bit of a different scene. And the scene has been everything that I hoped it would be.

After dragging my suitcase through the Melbourne public transit network, I settled down to wait at Southern Cross Station for my overnight coach ride from Melbourne to Adelaide. And then I was lucky enough to have a friend come and visit after work to see me off on the next leg of my journey. It was the perfect ending to my time in Melbourne and made the change a lot more bearable.

As I sat in the Adelaide Central bus station waiting for my coach transfer the next morning, I took a few moments during my few hours wait to take in the scenery. It really only did take a few moments. That's one thing I've realized while traveling: transportation centres look just about the same wherever you are. I have to admit that it was a little depressing, even once I was on the coach. As many highlights as Adelaide might have, it is still just another city.

And then the coach moved into the South Australian countryside and my heart lifted. Even dragging my broken bag (the wheels broke) up the main road of McLaren Vale didn't seem too bad when I had hills, vineyards and the ocean for my scenery.

I spent the weekend indoors searching for a job, and catching up with friends. Monday arrived, and I found a job that I started the next day. I would be picking grapes for wineries in the region! How very Australian backpacker of me.

I awoke on my first day of my new job at a wonderful five in the morning. It was dreadful walking along the Main street to my pick up point in the cold dark of night. I wasn't very impressed with my choice of job.

Standing around for another hour before catching a ride out to the vineyards didn't increase my expectations; however, I couldn't help but smile as I picked grapes at a dreadfully slow pace while looking out at the beautiful South Australian scenery. The second day I got a treat when a kangaroo hopped up the rows of vines while I was picking.

I'm not going to lie, grape picking is definitely hard work. There is my blood in the 2011 vintage to prove my dexterity at handling the clippers. I come home sweaty and dirty and exhausted every day, but I also come home with memories of great people and gorgeous views.

One thing that I have determined is that after I finish the 2011 Vintage I will never be picking fruit again! Unless of course I'm in another country and desperate for cash... then I might once again consider it.

Friends

After a week of insane highs and lows I feel as if I have finally found a few moments just to focus my mind enough to figure out what the hell is going on. I started the week with the realization that I wanted to go out on a limb and live for myself for a little while. I have now ended it but finding myself relying on some amazing friends and family. That too has made me take a moment to analyze. I have never enjoyed relying on others, or needing someone, yet I seem to do it quite often. It has always made me wonder why it is that my friends stick by me when I’ve put them through so much. To this day I am still shocked that when I ask for help I get it. I feel like such a burden to even ask, and the fact that I have so many great friends that are willing to give me a hand up always takes my breath away.

I will never be that friend that everyone else turns to. I wont be the reliable one, or the safe one. For a long time I haven’t been okay with that because I have felt that I’m letting everyone that stands by me down. But now I know that I’m not letting them down. I am the loyal friend that will always be there in a second. I would never use my friends, or abuse that friendship that you guys have so willingly given me. I make your life challenging, and if I am honest with myself I know that will never change. My life has never been simple and never will be, and I think I might be okay with that. And I think my friends are okay with that too. I would never hold it against any of you if you just had enough with me. I know that it can be wearing having to deal with all of my drama, but I’m just coming to the understanding that as much as you go through with me, you guys do it because you care and know that I care.

I will always be that friend that everyone knows is making mistakes and does it anyway. And I will probably also always be that friend that has to get taken care of and bailed out. I will always give everything I have without a thought to those friends that have given so much to me.

I’m sorry that I put you guys through so much, especially when you know I’m doing something wrong and try to tell me. Of course you have all figured out by now that I really hate being told what to do, and will continue to make mistakes until I figure it out myself no matter how many times you told me. I don’t do it to frustrate you, and I truly appreciate how much you guys care, but I’ve always felt the need to find my own way through things. Thank you for loving me still despite my stubbornness.

I wish I could say at the end of this that I wont fill your lives with drama and challenges, but we all know that I’m going to keep living my own crazy life. This is just a really big thank you for putting up with me, understanding me (as much as is possible) and for caring about me when I make it difficult. I hope you all know that I would be there for you in a second and would give everything for you guys. I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay.