Well the much anticipated day has come, the day to take my bag and leave this great land for another – The U.S of A. Today I am bound for Texas. Mum and Dad picked me up from the Ranges at 6am in the morning – thinking that you have to be 2-3 hours early for an international flight. Since I was flying into Melbourne first, it was actually domestic and I only had to be there an hour before so we spent 2 hours in the departure lounge drinking coffee, double and triple checking that I had my passport and napping (since Jimmy and I had too many Jagerbombs in hearty celebration the night before).

After an uncomfortable domestic flight, I stumbled into Melbourne airport and slowly navigated my way to my next departure gate, bound for the infamous L.A.X. Fear bestowed me as I reflected on that T.V show ‘Airport’ which features American’s abusing the hell out of flight attendants and check-in staff trying to get to grandma’s before she dies or to little Johnny for his piano recital.

I boarded the plane, hoping that it would not be full and I might be able to stretch out a little bit…I go to my seat and am greeted by two Finnish girls (sisters) I am going to be sitting next to them for this 14 hour flight. Their names were Avalon and Eva, 5 and 7 years of age respectively and their 3 year old brother and mum and dad were in the seats in front of us. Maybe if I ignore them they won’t speak to me I think – then it starts. The nudges, can you open my peanuts, can you get my bag, how old are you, do you have any sisters, are you alone, can I go to the toilet. Other passengers would pass by me in the aisles and give me knowing smiles, and the flight attendants complimented me on my beautiful girls. The passenger sitting behind me helped make my flight a memorable one as well – he was tall and scrawny with a big nose and a mop of dark red curly hair, he got up to stretch his legs often, and every time he did he would use the back of chair to lever himself up – so every hour or so I would get a big jolt back and forth as he got up and sat down again. Many many many long hours later we arrived in LAX only to spend a couple more long hours waiting in the immigration queue.

As we were waiting in line a woman came along to check that we had filled out our landing papers correctly – I had Disney World as my address and she asked me if “I was going to be staying with Mickey Mouse”…and told me I had to write down a ‘proper address’ – I didn’t have Aimee’s address on me and I was freaking out worried that they wouldn’t let me through. I didn’t know how to contact Aimee – her number was in my phone and the battery had died and I had these visions of me being sent home to Australia by a mean customs man. I finally made it to my turn and was being interrogated by a half – Mexican looking man, with a haircut that looked like someone had stuck a bowl over his head and cut around it. He is asking me all sorts of questions and I told him how I was going to be working in Disney World, then he looks at my passport photo and says it looks nothing like me, he is staring at me and I don’t know what to do then he flips to my visa photo and stares at that one – I am sweating, what’s wrong, he’s not going to get me through – then he says ‘I think you look much prettier in your visa photo’. Next he is slipping me his phone number and suggesting we catch up next time I am in L.A. Right-o well immigration wasn’t so bad after all.

I meandered my way through the airport and into the departure lounge. I was so incredibly tired and felt like my whole body was covered in a layer of what I like to call ‘airport grease’ that grime that seems to accumulate when you spend so much time in a confined space with lots of people and recycled air. My eyeballs felt like they were about to slide out of their sockets so I bought myself an overpriced star bucks coffee and sat myself down. I was in that horrible limbo where you can’t sleep, and can’t concentrate on anything long enough to read a book or do a crossword puzzle, and you don’t want to listen to music incase you miss an important announcement. It is feelings like these that I tend to forget when I get home and the travel experience becomes gloriously romantic.

A couple hours later I boarded my next flight which would take me to Dallas, name sake to the famous TV show where somebody shot JR…anyways, I was sandwiched between two guys who insisted on placing their big elbows on the armrests – so I sat there in a mummy like position for the next three hours falling in and out of consciousness and trying to think of a happier place. Finally, it was all over, and we landed on Texan soil – 2 minutes later and I was at the baggage reclaim looking lost when Aimee found me. Deep sighs of relief followed as I no longer had to worry about flights, gate numbers and time zones it was time to sit back, relax and let someone else do the navigating for a while.

A couple hours later we arrived back at Aimee’s house in Cleburne, a quaint little two bedroom apartment in a block. We were greeted by Riley Butterbean the Labrador and Jerry – Aimee’s fiancée. After a degreasing shower which included, in true Anne-Marie style a slippery bathtub and a fall A over T out of the tub and onto the floor tangled up in the shower curtain and a fit of giggles…I digress… we hit the road once again and headed to a town called Grapevine and to a restaurant/bar called ‘Love and War in Texas’. Aimee’s brother Doug Moreland was playing there that night so I got a double dose of Texas with country music and traditional Texan food in the form of Alamo Chicken, extra tasty considering my last meal was some half frozen – de-flavoured airline continental breakfast. After a bit of two-step and a few waltzes we headed home with me snoring my head off all the way. I think this has been the longest Friday ever.