To start, please ignore the older postings below. I am already riddled with guilt that after 1 1/2 years, I still haven't finished putting the journal and the thousands of pictures I took for the amazing trip to Peru. I didn't even finish the hand written journal I took to Mexico with me due to an incredible night of drinking for Cinqo de Mayo and a hangover that took effect at 6 a.m. I guess that's what happens when you are out drinking until 5 a.m. and sitesighting. Definitely site seeing :)
Let this be a warning that this may be the only post about the trip that you see!
Anyone that has ever travelled with me before knows that I like to turn the packing into a game. The recipient of such a game is asked the question: "If you were going to _____, what would you pack? Include everything from hygiene and clothes to misc."
Typically, the game goes really well for me. Everything they name, I've got. "Toothbrush?" "Check". "Glasses?" "Check". "Bathing Suit?" "Check".
And then it happens: The inevitable one word that no matter how basic it seems, always escapes me. "Underwear?" "Um, nope." I put my head down in shame and admit defeat.
Not this year! Underwear is packed and is the only thing currently in the backpack. It's probably going to be the bathing suit this year, I can just feel it!
My parents called last night to ask about the trip. I missed the first phone call from my dad, which resulted in this answering maching message:
Dad: "Hey Steph. It's Mom and Dad. Just wanted to let you know that our cell phone is activated for use in Aruba, so if you need to get ahold of us, you can. It's $1.99 a minute and I'm going to keep track of how many times you call it and how long the calls are for and you owe me for every minute of time you use. Ok? Give us a call. Oh, it's Dad. Bye!"
Now do you understand where I get my humor from?
I call them back. They ask the typical questions: When do you leave? When are you coming back? Where are your flights to and from? Are they direct? How long are the flights? I tell them that I have a 14 hour flight from LAX to Sydney, to which my mom decides it necessary to stroll down memory lane and my history of bad flights.
Mom: "14 hours? Oh, man! I remember when we were flying back to Burlington and you were clinging onto your monkey with the banana for dear life as you were heaving into the bag!"
Me: "Thanks for bringing THAT up. As if I'm not nervous enough about 14 hours on a plane, you have to mention that. Besides, that wasn't that long ago..."
No, you don't need to know when that was.
It's true. I don't like to fly, but I do it. It's times like this when I think about what my Theology teacher from high school once taught me: The end justifies the means. (see Mom, I did pay attention!). Granted, I am not sure he was really refering to a 14 hour flight that I would eventually take in my lifetime. I think that it was supposed to be more of a spiritual concept. Potato, potatoe.
I'm 2 days away from leaving. I'm not packed. Butterflies have set in. I'm sure that by the time I finish my work, check the house a few hundred times before I lock it up on Wednesday, pack, and just the shear excitement from seeing a good friend I haven't seen in 1 1/2 years, my sleep this week is going to be minimal. I figure if I get tired enough, I will (hopefully) have no issue in passing out on the planes.
We have quite the adventure set out for the 4 of us (Jax, her college friend and her sister, and myself). We will be travelling together in Sydney and Hamilton Island. My goals while in Sydney: climbing the Sydney Harbor Bridge; visiting the zoo and Opera house; staying clear away from marmite, vegemite, stalagmites and stalagtites; enjoying australian coffee and tim tams; tasting some of Pete's (Jax's bf) creations when we go to dinner at Catalina Rose Bay restaurant where he is a chef.
The remainder of our time will be spent on Hamilton Island where we will indulge in a night at an Organic B&B; board a 3 day/ 3 night sailing and scuba diving Catamaran called "Emperor's Wings" to explore the Great Barrier Reef, pamper ourselves at a 5-star resort; spend a few nights at Pete's family farm; and finally drink our way through the Hunter Valley wine region.
Although this isn't going to be the same backpacking adventure that Jax and I took in Peru, it's another page my journal that someday I will look back on and again have no regrets that I had the chance and jumped at it.
I'm looking forward to the trip as a whole: meeting up with old friends and making new ones; scuba diving one of the most beautiful and wonderful places in the world; getting the closest I probably ever will to the Antarctic Circle; and overall just experiencing a life outside of my own for 2 short weeks. I'm ready for someone else's summer.
I am tired of the snow and cold here. I am hoping when I come back that the snow will be gone from my yard. If not, I can tell you right now that my next trip is going to be to Punxatawney, PA and I am going to kill that SOB of a groundhog.
