Post from Tuesday

Date: June 14^th 2011

Time: 12:04 pm

Location: Sydney, Australia

Well my first international traveling experience is off to a horrifying start. I arrived to SeaTac about 4 hours early for my flight to Vancouver and spent a lot of time looking through magazines and wandering around the airport with my shoulders killing me from carrying around my two heavy carry-on bags.

I called my friends to say goodbye while I was still in the States and I even walked my newlywed sister and her husband to their gate to Vegas for their honeymoon. I was feeling pretty good about my trip overall until I talked to the gate agent before boarding for Vancouver. Apparently my flight was almost considered an “illegal connection” because there was only 55 minutes between my flights and I had to make it through customs.

At that point I began to feel very nervous. I not only had my own doubts about making the connection and then the blonde gate agent added her own which was not helpful.  On top of that, it was 7:30 and my flight was supposed to depart at 7:45. And shocker; the plane hadn’t even arrived at the gate yet.

I eventually found my seat on the puddle jumper from Seattle to Vancouver which was next to this woman with a pixie cut and glasses who was sitting reading a book. She took out a form and began filling it out, I noticed her name was Hannah. I asked if she flew internationally a lot, to which she responded that she had and that I was supposed to fill out that form as well since they would ask for it in Canada when I went through customs.

I told her about my situation and how nervous I was about making my flight to Auckland. She too added her own doubts. At this, I began to get butterflies and became single-minded in my anxious thoughts. Luckily the flight attendant was kind enough to let me off the 20 minute plane ride first. And as I power-walked, calves burning to customs I became very aware of how unsure of what exactly I was supposed to do. What do I do at customs? Was I supposed to pick up my checked bag… or not? Why hadn’t they issued me a boarding pass for this flight? Did I have to check in again in Vancouver? I asked every airport person I came in contact with if they could contact the airline and let them know I was coming. They could not.

At this point I was becoming frantic. When I turned on my phone when we landed it said 7:56 pm and my flight was supposed to leave at 8:30! After talking to a security person in the baggage claim for a couple minutes and leaving her still being unsure of whether or not I was supposed to pick up my bag, I ran upstairs to ticketing.

There was no representative at the Air New Zealand booth. I knew I had missed my flight. The frantic feeling was replaced by one of utter panic. What now!? I was in CANADA all by myself and I had missed a flight across the WORLD! I at last found someone to help me at the Air Canada desk.

I truly feel bad for her because I could tell she was just about to leave and then here I come rushing up red-faced, sweating and fighting back tears. I choked out that I had missed my flight and I needed to be rebooked. Thank God that for some reason I was able to send and receive texts. Because I was able to text my parents and tell them the situation and they let Ken know that I wouldn’t be in Auckland the following morning at 5:30 am.

For the next hour the representative and I went back and forth with the airline and such figuring out what went wrong. Not only was my flight delayed from Seattle, but also, the flight for Auckland left EARLY! I had two options; one, I stay the night in a Canadian hotel (supposedly to be reimbursed by the airline) and fly out of L.A. the next day or I could get on a flight going to Sydney then on to Auckland that night.

From there she sent me downstairs to locate my still missing bag. When I returned without it to the counter she told me that she booked me on the flight to Sydney. SYDNEY!!! At that point I was considerably more calm and actually kind of excited at the prospect of spending few hours in Sydney.

I thanked her profusely for dealing with all my crazyness and helping me out and then I set about on my way to find my gate for my flight to Sydney. I found my gate and was immediately delighted by all the Australian accents I was surrounded by. I was also immediately aware of how exhausted I was. The flight for Sydney didn’t leave till 11:40! So I ventured over to the little souvenir shop, considered buying myself a shot glass that said Canada on it to commemorate my horrific Canadian adventure, but reconsidered and bought a Vitamin water instead.

For the next 15 hours I drifted between sleeping uncomfortably and watching two and a half movies on my personal T.V.  I was also served some sort of pasta dinner, a questionable sandwich and some delicious pancakes in the morning.

So here I am, Sydney, Australia. I have wandered through this airport so many times that I’m sure the Aussies probably think I have a mental handicap. I have bought some wet wipes, deodorant and face wash in an attempt to clean myself a bit. I even bought shampoo and conditioner because I also found a shower. I reconsidered this option though because I have no towel, no make-up and would have to walk around with wet hair. Reconfirming my mental  handicap status. If people didn’t talk kind of funny (and by funny I mean awesome) this airport could pass for any old airport in the States.

I even positioned myself in front of a window so that I might be able to take in some of Australia. However, that quest has proved fruitless as well. There aren’t any  kangaroo’s hopping about, no one dressed like crocodile Dundee, and I certainly don’t have a view of the Sydney Opera House. Nope. It looks green and rainy and completely generic outside.

Now I think I’ll pack up all my stuff for the millionth time and see if I can find out what gate my plane is leaving from.