Have I Ever Told You That I Now Hate to Fly?

Well...the short story is I'm back home. But this is a blog, so I'm going to tell you the long story. In the words of Sophia of Golden Girls fame...picture it...Sydney...last Monday...
Phil and I head to the airport to be there by 10:00 am for my 12:00 pm flight. Now for those not in the know, apparently January 26th is a holiday in Australia. It's Australia Day. Kind of like our 4th of July without the independence thing. Everyone carries or wears Australian flags (some literally, as in capes around their shoulders), has the day off of work, and many barbecue. It also means (for us in the city) road closures because of the classic car show that lined our street. Hence...the leaving extra early for the airport because we had to go an alternate route.

Anyways, we get to the airport and find out that my flight has a 5 hour maintenance delay. My first thought? Do I really want to get on an airplane that is going to cross the Pacific that just needed a 5 hour maintenance delay? My second thought? Well, shoot...I have a 5 hour delay before my 30 hour trip.

So Phil and I checked in my luggage and then left to go back to the festivities for a few hours. Well, from my previous post you've learned that it is hot in Sydney at the moment so I took off my sneakers and put on my flip flops to walk around. We got back to the apartment around 1:30 and Phil decided to go online to check the status of the flight.

Lo and behold...we learned the flight was now cancelled. I raced around the apartment grabbing my purse and my carry-on (that always has my ipod and at the very minimum 4 books, my crossword puzzle book, and my soduku book...remember, a 30 hour trip?). We get back to the airport and I have to go with an agent down through customs to baggage to retrieve my luggage. For a moment I thought I'd just made an episode of Border Security (one of my favorite Aussie tv shows) when the customs agents came towards us yelling that we couldn't come in this way. But made it through, got my bags, and wheeled them (all 3...yes, we are trying not to have to ship anything back, so everytime I come back to the states it looks like I've got everything but the kitchen sink in my bags) back to the ticket counter.

I was put on the United flight to Los Angeles that left at 3:15 and was on my way. After discovering that yes...I was still wearing my flip flops. No problem in LA, but a bit of a problem at my next connection. Which would be Toronto. Why? Because I was told that because it's an Air Canada flight, I have to have a connection in a Canadian city. Blame Canada, I say. And Toronto in late January is cold when you're wearing a light sweater and flip flops. The looks I was receiving as I was walking down the aisle were interesting. I could tell people wanted to ask me if I knew I was going to Toronto. Whatever.

Well...this is getting longer than I thought and American Idol is on in 10 minutes (I know...but I can't. stop. watching. it.)...so, I got to Toronto, thought I'd have to leave my bags there so I could get into the US customs hall before it closed, but 10 minutes before they closed, got my bags, made the mad dash to US customs, got on the flight and made it back to Philly at 10:45 pm on the same date that I took off . The longest Australia Day ever. So I toasted the holiday once I got back to the house with a nice glass of cold Diet Coke filled to the top with ice while petting Sox. Australia is nice, but oh...I love America.