The Journey Home

And so the journey home begins. It is 2:45 am in Brisbane and the alarm on my cell phone has just gone off. 0245 in Brisbane on Thursday, 1045 in Houston on Wednesday.

We leave the house at 0315 with Jacquelynn driving. The roads are eerily quiet, the only sign of life as we drive through Ashgrove is a lone street sweeper slowly brushing the curbs. As we top Ashgrove hill I get a view of the lights in the Central Business District for one last time. We skirt the city, cross the river and run down the M1 to reach the airport in record time, just less than 30 minutes from door to door.

It's time to say goodbye. A long hug. "Thanks for having me". "Safe journey. Let me know when you get home". "I will. Drive safely. Hug Chloe for me". I grab my bags and hat and walk quickly into the terminal, eyes misty with tears. It has been an incredible visit. Chloe is a joy to be around and Jacquelynn and Colin have gone out of their way to make me feel comfortable.

But now it is 0345 and I'm standing in the first of many lines that will be encountered in the next 30 or so hours. There are two flights leaving Brisbane around five am. The first is to Sydney and the second is my flight to Melbourne. All passengers making international connections in Sydney or Melbourne go through the same line to check passports and baggage. I have to check my baggage so the six bottles of Australian beer I carefully wrapped will make it through security. Unfortunately there are 30 or so people in front of me and only one clerk. For the first 15 minutes the line moves very slowly and more people join the line then leave it after checking baggage. But at 0405 six additional clerks appear - the shift obviously starts at 0400 - and by 0410 the line was moving rapidly and I was able to check in and obtain my boarding passes for the flights to Los Angeles.

Traversing security was only moderately time consuming. The lines weren't long but an elderly couple didn't understand the restrictions on the size of bottles for liquids and gels and their bags were returned to them and hand searched and a younger gentleman who seemed to speak little English didn't understand his computer had to go through the x-ray machine separately. There was no requirement to remove shoes, belt or watch and I passed through the personal scanner without incident.

Unfortunately by this time there was no opportunity to explore the Brisbane domestic terminal, it was time to board the Qantas flight to Melbourne. A nice touch was the free newspaper available at the gate for passengers to pick up as they board the plane and free headphones are available in bins at the entrance to the gangway leading to the plane.

The flight departed Brisbane on time at 5:05 am (1.05 pm Wednesday in Houston) and we were served breakfast of Special K, yogurt, fruit juice and a warm roll together with coffee or hot tea.

I ate, reclined the seat slightly, adjusted the flaps on the headrest and dozed for a while, waking up as we approached Melbourne, where we landed on time at 7:20 Brisbane time, 8:20 am Melbourne time.

Walked from the domestic terminal to the International terminal but had to go out of security and walk through the concourse to terminal 2 - the International terminal. At least it was inside, the concourse was light, airy and air conditioned with the occasional store or restaurant along the way. It took less than 10 minutes, then at the International terminal I filled out a departure card, went through passport control and back through security. Still didn't have to take off my shoes, belt or watch to pass through the personal scanner.

Immediately on exiting the security area all passengers are funnelled into the duty free shop. I picked up a bottle of Bundaberg and a bottle of Baileys. When I went to pay and presented my boarding card, the lady at the cash register asked me if Los Angeles was my final destination, then reminded me that I would have to put the bottles of booze in my checked luggage to get them from Los Angeles to Houston. There is absolutely no room in my checked luggage so I didn't buy the booze. Oh well.

After the duty free there are several other stores selling books, Australia wool garments, coffee (Starbucks), candy and an Australian outfitter selling clothes for outdoors on the way to the departure hall where there is another newsagent / bookstore and a snack bar as well as clean, well appointed toilets and places to take a private shower.

The Qantas 747 me and 300 plus other people were to fly on was parked at gate 9. The external paint work on the plane appeared to depict Aboriginal paintings, it was very colorful.



We started boarding at 11:50 am (6:50 pm Wednesday, Houston time) It looks like every seat is full. Fortunately I have an aisle seat. We left the gate at 12:30 pm. 8 3/4 hours gone on this long day.

The flight was long, but uneventful, except the video on demand was not working correctly and the light switch on the control box did not work. The food was OK for airline food, but at least the beer and the wine were free, though it was difficult to attract attention to get a second beer (which I didn't get) or a second glass of wine (which I eventually got by going to the galley). We arrived pretty much on time in Los Angeles at 7:30 am after 14 hours in the air. My body was sore even though I'd dozed two or three times and got up and walked around five or six times.

Passport control and customs were relatively painless. A short line for US passport holders, then a long wait to collect my bag, buy a short line to hand in my customs form and exit the International terminal. Once again I had to walk to the next terminal, but this time the walk was outside along a sidewalk where passengers were getting out of the cars and going into the terminal. Fortunately the Continental terminal, terminal 6, is only a ten minute walk from the International terminal and the weather was pleasant for walking. The lines were mercifully short to check in and then pass through security, though this time I did have to take off my shoes, and remove my belt and watch before getting into the Continental terminal for CO395 flight to Houston with scheduled departure of 11:35 am, 3 1/2 hours from now. But at least i got an upgrade to first class.

The flight to Houston was uneventful, the dinner was OK and the two glasses of wine enough to put me to sleep for an hour. We landed at 4:45 pm and I gathered my bags, found a taxi and headed home where I arrived at 6:30 pm on Thursday evening, 31 1/4 hours after leaving Jacquelynn's house on the other side of the world.

I was past tired, my internal clock said it was 10:30 in the morning, so I drove to the liquor store and bought a box of Black Box Cabernet, then stopped at Kroger and bought sausage and beans for dinner.

Tom Bradley International Terminal, Los Angeles Airport

I enjoy traveling, I really do. Travel is an adventure and each event on the journey a new experience to be savored and enjoyed. When one travels there are sights and sounds and smells galore to tickle, titillate or assault the senses. There are obstacles to overcome and pleasantries to be passed with and by people who generally work hard and still maintain a smile despite constant abuse from tired, disgruntled, anxious travelers.

Entering the environs around Los Angeles airport means stepping out of a prosperous, clean, modern America into a rather seedy, dirty, crowded suburb of what could be a minor city in a third world country. The buildings around the airport are drab and in need of repair, there are potholes in the roads and the only bright lights come from neon lights around the entrances to strip – sorry gentlemen’s – clubs and a profusion of signs announcing the presence of all the major international hotel and car hire companies. Entry into (and exit from) the airport is difficult at the best of times and traversing the terminal road hazardous, though Angelinos take near misses from the crawling taxis, buses, limos and private cars very good naturedly.

The International terminal, like much of the airport is being renovated. There are six long aisles with check in counters and one of them is walled off to travelers. People are everywhere trying to speak to porters or check in clerks in many dialects of English then turning to the accompanying parents or grandparents or multiple children and translating into Mandarin or Punjabi or French or Spanish or Cantonese. All seem to be carrying enough luggage to clothe a family of ten comfortably for a month. It is a teeming sea of frantic humanity. The destination board lists planes heading to London, Taipei, Mexico City and 20 or so other cities including, near the bottom, Brisbane, Australia.

There are beacons of light amongst the scowling passengers. A friendly Avis bus driver who hopes I have a good flight and a smiling gate clerk who manages to persuade me that my single bag should be checked since it is too heavy for the overhead bin. She takes my passport, finds my reservation in the computer then tells me I need a visa to enter into Australia. Panic strikes. Visa, what visa? This wasn’t mentioned when the flights were booked on line. But all is well, the gate clerk tells me I am eligible for an instant multiple entry visa that lasts a year and, because I was not told I needed a visa she waives the $25 fee they normally charge. Whew.

The check in lady suggested I eat in the terminal before going through security. It was a well intentioned suggestion, but next time I will eat before arriving at the airport.

There is one restaurant and bar – The Daily Grill – and a choice of fast food – Mexican, Sushi, Chinese, Ice Cream, Coffee and the ubiquitous McDonalds available up one flight of stairs at the end of the check in hall. After much pondering in the Daily Grill while imbibing a pint of Newcastle Brown I chose the chicken pot pie for $15.95. The pie dish was enormous, perhaps 10” in diameter and the pie crust was domed and golden, a beautiful presentation. Unfortunately there was a dearth of chicken inside the pie, the advertised vegetables were conspicuous by their absence, though I’m sure at least a couple of the crunchy things were barely cooked potato pieces. But at least it was hot and the Stoneybrook Cabernet Sauvignon at $6.50 a glass was acceptable.

The check in lady was correct. The barely acceptable fare at the Daily Grill was preferable to having nothing to eat once I had passed through security. The gate area of the international Terminal is one long corridor of 20 or so gates spread out over more than half a mile. In the gate area are a couple of small bars and a couple of snack shops at opposite ends of the corridor. Where are the restaurants and bars normally available at an airport inside the security cordon? There is a captive audience of hungry and thirsty travelers who would be delighted to patronize such places. The situation was desperate for one young man – a youth aged 14, 15 or 16 - who was trying to fill his water bottle at a water fountain. The pressure in the fountain was not enough to produce a stream high enough that the bottle could sit under the stream and be filled, so this young man was filling the bottle cap with water then pouring the cap contents into the bottle. He had quite a rhythm going and after countless trips of full caps poured into the bottle he had a half full bottle of water, which appeared to suffice, since he picked up the bottle screwed on the cap and wandered to his gate area. Can you imagine how much patience this takes. One good swig devours 10 or 12 capfuls. Wow, what patience.

The comparison to a third world airport was further strengthened when they started to load the aircraft. 350 plus people were loaded onto buses, 30 or 40 at a time, then driven to the far side of the airport to board a Qantas 747-400. I wonder if Qantas counts it as an on time departure if all the passengers are on buses by the scheduled departure time.

We pushed away from the remote gate at 12:20 am, some 25 minutes late and a quick look around at the sea of hair peeking over the tops of seats confirmed that nearly every seat was occupied.

The flight, fortunately for all, was uneventful. A can of Victoria bitter and a couple of glasses of Australian wine with dinner, helped put me to sleep for a few hours, though the sleep was not really restful, it would have been much worse without my Bose noise canceling headphones. Woke with four hours to go (my goodness will this flight never end) to watch Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman and enjoyed it a lot. Breakfast was advertised as a mixed vegetable Frittata, I guess that sounds better than a warmed up square of pressed scrambled egg and peppers.

Then 13 hours and 20 minutes after taking off, we landed in Brisbane. Eight am local time. The adventure continues.