When last we left the protagonist and his stalwart companion, they were about to embark upon the journey of a lifetime. With heads held high and with spring in their step, our heroes boarded the plane to Los Angeles.
The glossy rendition of my upcoming adventures abruptly took a back seat when I was reminded of how uncomfortable airplane seats are, and how loud a hungry baby can be in a large, insulated metal tube. I am very happy that the first flight was only two hours. My company at the time was pretty good though: I met a Texas transplant who owned a large pasture outside of Sweethome, OR who boarded horses, and since the lady next to him owned horses, I just listened to them talk about all things equestrian for the duration of the flight. If only they had talked a bit louder, they may have covered up the noise of the screaming baby, but sadly it was not to be.
I got off the flight in Los Angeles and ran into my first unexpected complication of the trip: apparently I needed a visa to enter Australia. My layover in Brisbane was about ten hours, and if you are going to remain in the country more than eight hours, you need a visa. Thankfully, the people at the airline desk were cool, and I got my visa. I didn’t have to pay a cent for it either: normally it costs $20 US. Thankful that my visa situation had been resolved, I made my way to the airport bar.
My idea was to have two to three (at the time I hadn’t decided) beers at the bar: just enough to get me a little buzzed, so that I could sleep through the sixteen hour flight ahead. I soon ran into two problems: First, beer at an airport bar is incredibly expensive; and second, beer at the LAX airport bar is only two steps above raw sewage (read: Budwiser and Coors.)
“Also, my idea to get buzzed before my flight to Brisbane has fallen flat, owing to the fact that a beer in an LAX bar costs more than $10…I gotta tell Ryan this so he can make other arrangements for sleep aids (3-1-11)”
Luckily, my discontent with the LAX bar was short lived. After four hours people watching, writing, and Windows 7 solitaire, I boarded the aircraft and took stock of my surroundings. It was like Christmas.
Virgin Australia Boeing 777’s have a small monitor built into the back seat of every chair; that includes the seats in coach.
“I have a selection of current movies at my fingertips, as well as TV shows, music, and…wait for it…video games. Only simple ones like Pac Man and Bejewled, but still…this is kind of awesome. Plus the cabin lights change color. That’s all for now, nerdgasm over (3-1-11).”
Apparently, you could also face chat with another passenger on that plane through your monitor as well, but that feature wasn’t working for this flight. You could also observe the aircraft’s altitude, speed, and of course, how much more time was left in the flight. So on my flight to Brisbane, I watched Unstoppable (meh), 127 Hours (good, though not for the weak-stomached), Black Swan (great movie, but a head-trip), and How to Train Your Dragon…again (anyone who knows me knows how much I love that movie). I did get some sleep, though not as much as I would have liked: my two neighbors had unbelievably weak bladders, and were getting up every half hour.
I touched down in Brisbane a little ahead of schedule, and armed with my Australian visa, I bought a train ticket into town. I spent the majority of my time wandering around the Fortitude Valley district, which has a very cool outdoor bar and restaurant scene. However, nobody was sitting outside and eating: for one, it was raining heavily, despite the fact that it was about 73 (F) degrees outside; and for two, it was about 11am local time. The one bar I knew of in Fortitude Valley, the Mana Bar, was closed. This was very disappointing: I have always wanted to go to a place and drink heavily while playing xbox. Hopefully I will be back during business hours at some point.
I couldn’t really take any boat trips or go to Gold Coast and surf in 10 hours (well, maybe I could have, but it was more money than I would have wanted to spend), so after Fortitude Valley, I wandered around downtown Brisbane (one stop after Fortitude Valley on the train), and then took the train back to the airport, thoroughly exhausted and soaking wet. I had no trouble at all sleeping on the flight to Christchurch. However, a surprise awaited me as I came through customs: In light of the earthquake damage, all of the hostels and hotels in town were full, so a bunch of other backpackershad set up camp in the international arrivals waiting room and were spending the night. I thought it was going to be difficult to convince people to let me sleep in the airport, or at least that I would have to convince someone.
Despite that small blessing, I ran into a complication with my bus to Blenheim: The place I was supposed to catch the bus was in a quarantined area of the city. The bus company would have made arrangements to change the pickup location, but the website I had bought the ticket from had not been updated. The best advice anyone could give me was to show up at the bus stop outside the airport at 6:30 in the morning, and ask the first bus drive to arrive where I needed to catch my bus, then hail a taxi and cross my fingers I get there in time (according to the itinerary, the bus to Blenheim left Christchurch at 7:05am). So, I did. And thankfully, my luck held: the first bus to show up was the bus to Blenheim. I did an awkward happy dance (cut me some slack, I was carrying 50 lbs), making a complete ass of myself in front of the attractive Australian I was talking to, and boarded the bus. As far as I was concerned, I was there already.
That said, part of me was glad that I wasn’t; I am very happy I decided to take the bus north. The scenery on the southeast coast of the south island is breathtaking. However, it didn’t look that foreign: it looked like the foothills of the coast range south of San Francisco, but much greener. Of course, once you see all of the vineyards, the sheep, and the very sheer mountains in the distance, you realize that you are a very long distance from home. We stopped for lunch in a coastal town called Kaikoura, and I got to see the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Kaikoura was reminiscent of a small Oregon coastal tourist town, but again, the steep mountains nearby shattered that illusion. The farther north I drove, the more enamored with the country I became.
“I actually saw a pod of dolphins playing off the coast south of Kaikoura, which was fantastic. It was the first time I have ever seen dolphins in the wild.
The sun is out now. This place truly is incredible.
…And the ocean water north of Kaikoura is turquoise. Another first.
There are only so many pictures you can take of beautiful blue water and emerald hills. Sometimes, you just have to be there (3-5-11)”
After close to forty hours in transition, my stalwart companion and I arrived at our destination. Our first trial was over, the next trial--learning how to be a production analytical wine chemist--was about to begin.
Until next time
-DK
PS: This blog really didn’t fit with the events in the days following, so I decided to give it its own entry. I will write something about my first week of work and post that before next Saturday to get back on schedule.
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