A Very Long Sunday
So... I'm back! Writing this in my room feels very strange, let me tell you, since this would be the first entry I've written in North America. I'm also cold right now, which isn't something I had to deal with through too many entries during my travels, either.
It's almost time to say goodbye to JYA for a while. That's something I'm not looking forward to. I suppose, for now, it's best to focus on the topic I sat down to write about and that's the seemingly endless trip I had over the weekend back to the United States. I left Taupo, New Zealand around 9:00 Sunday morning and headed north for about five hours. Upon arrival back into Auckland, I was fortunate enough to have a couple of hours to spend in this small but beautiful city until I had to hop on a bus and drive to the airport. I made it there about an hour later where, after a long wait at check-in and a less-than-pleasant discussion with the airline and then a customs agent about my luggage, I made it... to security.
No matter how many times I fly, I'm astounded by the fact that air travel will never be an exact science. Regardless of how many years of experience airlines might have moving people around the planet or how much money you might have paid for a ticket, a sense of humor is important if you are ever going to make it out the other end of your journey with your sanity intact. I hadn't realized just how much tighter security on flights to the US had gotten while I was away until I stepped on line at security in the Auckland airport. Thinking I'd just breeze right through (this was New Zealand, after all) my jaw literally dropped at the sheer chaos of what I was seeing. Not only did I have to pass through general security, but also passengers on flights to the US had to wait on a second line after that. You can imagine what people were muttering about there.
I don't know why but I can almost never pass through airport security without someone stopping me for something. I think it's because of my large hands. This time around, I was busted for trying to smuggle a (get this) bottle of water on to the airplane. Unaware of the new "liquid limit" on airplanes, I was irritated by the store's willingness to sell me a bottle of water it had to have known I couldn't take with me but decided it wasn't worth battling the crowd and probably an irate store manager for a measly three dollars. I stubbornly refused to throw it away and chugged the whole thing in front of her. She thanked me for not having an aneurism over a bottle of water and I wished her a good evening.
Again, I should know to be prepared for almost anything when I fly and yet something always happens that manages to get under my skin. I got to the gate to find 900-or-so people the airline planned on packing inside this plane hanging around as if they were waiting for a movie to start. There were kids running around and people spread out across the floor on top of books and newspapers when all I could think about how long of a trip home I had in front of me. I also managed to whip out my laptop and show the people sitting next to me my skydive DVD. I figured I had time to kill and I was just that proud of myself.
After a day of traveling just to the gate and then a delay of about an hour, I left New Zealand. I couldn't help but replay certain moments of the skydive in my mind as the plane lifted off and I wondered just how an aircraft carrying more than 300 people and their luggage could stay in the air long enough to make it over an ocean. I also convinced myself that this was not Taupo and I didn't have to leave the plane until we touched down in LA. The flight was very long, 13 hours long. Thanks to a few sleeping pills and a glass of red wine, I don't remember much of it but the trip back was good. Since I crossed the International Date Line, I got my July 24th back and landed in LA (and don't think too hard about this) before I left Auckland. After going through customs at LAX and rechecking my bags, I was on a (delayed!) flight to Newark a few hours later.
One highlight of the trip was seeing family, once for about half an hour in LA and then again at home. I noticed strange things almost immediately: it was cold outside, steering wheels were on the other side again, my brother's hair was different, and it was still Sunday. I craved something to eat other than airplane food but I think, more than anything else, I just wanted to get home and hug my dog. Oh, and a shower was up there on my list too... Even before I stepped in the house, I was glad to be home.
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