I woke up at 3am on Wednesday morning. Bob was snoring at the end of the bed oblivious to what was going to happen that day. He was just revelling in the fact he got to have a sleep over at his grandparents' AND sleep inside. Time rolls by and soon there's a knock on the door from dad. I almost told him I wasn't going. Bob and I were happy here, I didn't need New York to be happy. But I knew this definitely wasn't an option so I got up sleepily put Bob outside. I moved slowly and didn't say much. Mum and dad were running around as usual, making sure everything was looked after. I'm usually quite an organised person, but the realisation of this day has thrown me out of kilter…so there was much to be done.
Out the door after a strained goodbye to BOB (all he wanted to do was run out the front gate and visit the cat next door) and we were on our way to the airport. We hit traffic fairly quickly, making me a little late for my early check in (due to trombone). Then it took a good hour to get through the check in line. All the information we'd been given about getting extra allowance as I'm a musician was all BS. One guy had the nerve to suggest I buy an extra ticket in the future as, 'that is what musicians usually do'. Ok, so I'm to pay $3000 for my trombone to fly with me. Better hope it gets free alcohol and a meal. But the issue was resolved and I did not have to endure a flight sitting next to my battered trombone case. It did cost extra to take it so I better bloody use the thing!
Alex and Jess arrive and goodbyes are said as I move down to immigration and my departure gate. Thanks to American security requirements, there are two security checkpoints. One includes a mandatory pat down. I think they WANT to make us feel bad. I swear this is just lip balm…my lips get chapped please let me take it, please. Yep, I choose suck up mode for these situations. The TSA people are all bigger than me so I prefer the innocent act. Seems to work. Though in recent journey's through the states I've always been chosen as the one they want to search. Don't know why.
Anyway back to the trip. Goodbyes were said and I sat in the lounge waiting to board. Receiving and sending last minute text messages. The plane is completely full up. And only once everyone is on and seated do we find out there is a fuel leak in one or the tanks. Two and a half hours later, sitting in the non-air conditioned cabin with 600 odd people and we finally manage to leave Brisbane. I was almost waiting for someone to come on and whisk me away like some romantic gesture to prvent me from leaving…it always happens in the movies at least. But no I got hot, stinky plane cabin with no where to go.
But we did take off and we did make it to LA. Luckily I texted my mum and she organised my connecting flight to be changed. Arriving in LA as a resident is so much different than as a visitor. It's so quick! There was no line for me to wait in, in actual fact I was the one they unclicked that special divider rope for so I could go ahead of the line. Bang Bang Bang and I was in…no questions asked. Finding my bags took more time and patience. But my real test came next.
I had to transfer flights as not only had I missed mine, but I found out it was actually cancelled due to bad weather in New York (not news I wanted to hear) so it was off to the check-in desk. I asked a million different people where to go, all very helpful and I find my first line. I wait. 3 people away from the front of the line a lady yells if anyone was on the cancelled 2 flight. A little cryptic for me, I had to open my mouth and ask what she meant. So she shuffles me out of my comfortable line and points all the way to the other end of the terminal "they're all down there" no matter I had 5 people tell me I was ok here. So I start my new line. There's only two groups in front of me…that's cool I can deal with this. Well apparently the tellers couldn't. The group of girls go up and leave me with 3 asian guys ahead. A typical nasal American woman stood chatting on her cell behind. We wait…and wait…and wait. Now remember, I'm tired, emotional and HATE this airport. So a poor girl got the wrong end of me as after serving the girls, the teller decides to go on lunch, offering no replacement to help us. Now if this was cotton on I'd have to sacrifice my lunch for a while should there be more customers than staff can handle. But apparently here, this is not the case…it's ok, they can miss there flight AGAIN. So she goes away…the girl in the polo gets it again from me. A family at the other teller have been there for almost half an hour. It only seems that out of pure miracle they start to leave. But then so does the teller. Apparently it's time for his break too. The three asian guys don't know what to do. Back to the polo girl for me. It took them 25 minutes to get another teller to help us out – the first one who went on break. And she gets pissed off at the asian guys for insinuating that she shouldn't have gone on her break. Luckily someone else came to help me…that first lady would have gotten a serve…I was that tired and pissed off at all the waiting I'd done, I was ready for a good yell. But no, this lady put me through nice and quickly. She says I'll be boarding at 2.30pm, no chance for the 12.00 I said (knowing it was already 25 to) the reply was, that IS the 12.00…well at least there's some good fortune to come out of all this!
So slowly I get through more security checkpoints. Basically undressing (shoes off, jackets off, pockets searched and emptied) I get through fairly unscathed. At least from this point I could sit and wait…
30 HOURS OF TRAVELLING LATER
Well I now write from the kitchen of Irene's apartment in the east village, Manhattan! I finally made it ;p It's hot and muggy (grey clouds which isn't too inviting) but I'm finally here. I'll be sure to start putting up photos very soon. Hope your all well.
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