Crossing the Line

OK, look- the fact is that at the age 60 you get used to being tired.  But this is ridiculous.

I left Seattle in the summer, board a plane and when I land- it's winter!  I WAS in the Northern Hemisphere; now I'm in the Southern one. I left on a Friday, and suddenly the next day is Sunday?! My poor, little brain just cannot fathom it.  The good news is:  I've landed in Australia.  My dream is now a waking one. I have officially DONE IT.

I calculated that yesterday I was up for nearly 36 hours with only a few, sparce and random catnaps on the jet. And flying into an absolute time warp across the International Date Line didn't help much. I LOST an entire day of my life.  A whole day gone, literally, into thin air.

My flight from Seattle to LA went smoothly, and I was blessed to sit next to a very friendly Iraqi war veteran from Georgia who was on his way to Sydney also as it turned out.  He was quiet, which I value more than anything in a seat mate. I've had my share of nightmare "passenger neighbors" - like the gentleman I sat with on my first trip to Europe in 1974 that chain smoked what must have been five whole packs of Marlboros (yes, kids- that's what flying used to be like back before you were born) and talked non-stop the whole flight.  But Army Dude was a man of just a few words. 

LAX was like SEA-TAC on steroids- gargantuan and congested.  Upon landing in LA, I had to take a shuttle bus from the domestic part of the airport over to the International terminal. They said I could walk, but I was well-aware of the long night ahead and decided to conserve my energy and take the shuttle.  As it turns out, I guess walking would have been the better choice. Just as I was calmly loading my two bags into the luggage rack, a young woman (in full panic mode and late for her flight) carelessly tossed her suitcase up next to mine, the corner of which collided with my right hand and injured it to the point of tearing the skin and making me bleed- like a stuck pig. 

As she apologized profusely and I searched frantically for a tissue to stop the bleeding (fortunately the driver had Hand-Wipes), the rest of the bus looked on in disbelief.  Eventually, I located a first-aid booth at the airport and a very kind paramedic bandaged my hand up with gauze and some super-powerful antibiotic cream.  Wonderful- what a great start! 

With that fun experience behind me, I was treated to my second full-on security scan of the day- nearly stripped naked and shoeless, all my possessions hurriedly stuffed into plastic bins for inspection and scanning, herded through line after line trying desperately not to lose all my travel documents until finally I was able to redress myself and continue on to my gate for Qantas Air Flight 12 to Sydney.  We were flying aboard a 747 jumbo jet, and there must have been 20,000 people waiting to board that plane, I swear.  I overheard the flight attendant tell the man ahead of me, "Sir, your seat is upstairs to the right."  UPSTAIRS??!  Damn.

I must say that Qantas Airlines does it up right! The food was excellent and frankly a little too much of it.  The entertainment systems included personal touch-screen monitors with scores of premium, newly-released movies, news from all over the world, tons of musical channels and top-of-the-line headphones. Cheerful Aussie flight attendants catered to my every need.  The 15 hour flight, although insanely long, went by relatively painlessly, and I was able to watch three full feature films without dozing off during any of them!  Normally, I can't even make it through one without falling asleep.

My favorite moment was half-way through the marathon flight. I remember as I boarded the plane and walked to my seat (fortunately, right behind the bulkhead so I could stretch my legs out all the way) I saw a sea of chipper, fresh, smiling faces and lots of folks talking or tuned into their electronic devices.  Everyone full of life and excitement.  But after the generous dinner and the cabin lights were dimmed, I took a quick stroll back to the nearest loo to stretch my legs and take a brief potting break. 

As I stood up and faced that same, once-energetic, vibrant. chattering crowd of people, the scene was entirely changed.  Half of them had sleeping masks on.  Heads were back or turned sideways. Mouths were gaped open.  Snoring could be heard.  No one was moving. Truly, it looked like a morgue, and it made me laugh out loud a little. What a difference a nice meal and 5,000 miles in the air make!

Finally, upon arriving in Sydney at a little past 6:00 a.m., the wear-and-tear of my arduous, extensive journey to the Down Under was beginning to take its toll.  I could feel the exhaustion in every step.  I was met by my driver, a pleasant chap with a thick accent, who shuttled me into downtown to my hotel.  Since it was just past the crack of dawn, I was informed that my room would not be available for another six hours at least, maybe longer.  Really?!  Someone had to be kidding me.

So for the next six hours (even though I did come back twice during that time to inquire if they were joking) I stumbled around the streets of Sydney in daze, wandering through beautiful Hyde Park, stopping to hear parts of Mass being said at the magnificent, Romanesque cathedral of St. Mary of the Cross with its colossal pipe organ, shopping in the enormous Chinatown nearby and people-watching at the corner Starbucks.  Six hours felt like an eternity.

In the park, I saw my first ibis- one of my favorite birds in the whole world. Normally, I would have been over-the-moon.  But after crossing the International Date Line today (or was it yesterday?)....I was just too damn tired to be excited about it.  

The next time I cross that imaginary line over the Pacific, I will get revenge and make sure I steal that lost day back.