exciting but sadly typical of me
So I just purchased my plane tickets for Australia. On the one hand, I paid $200 less than I expected I'd have to even in my best case budgeting scenario. Just as an aside, the International Dateline is even more confusing than it is cool. And on the other hand, fucking hell???
I searched for flights. I searched for flights exhaustively. On the flights I booked, going there was supposed to take 22 hours and two days (wacky dateline). Coming back was supposed to be 20 hours and one morning (wacky, nutbar-chomping dateline). But after the purchasing happened this complete itinerary popped up saying that within the 22-hour going-there flight there would be a 12-hour flight to French Polynesia, a 22-hour layover in said island paradise, and then a 30-hour flight to Sydney. The coming-back flight will apparently consist of a 30-hour leg from Sydney back to Polynesia and then a 40-minute jaunt from Polynesia to New York but still take only 20 hours total. I am comforted by the fact that this is all impossible. I mean, what planes can stay aloft 30 hours? Not Tahitian airbuses, right? Maybe AirTahiti has no clocks. Maybe it reckons time by how many renditions of Marching to Praetoria can be fit into a single flight and alternates randomly between leisurely-troll marches and keeping-up-with-the-cavalry marches. And if somehow the (wacky, freakish, INSANE) dateline makes all this possible, um, yay for free day in French Polynesia? The big concern is that I, of course, decided to push my luck and try to exploit the temporal magic and fly back on Sunday to get back to work Monday morning. So I'm really hoping that bit works out at least. I am hopeful. There can only be so much insanity before there's sheer oblivion. And I don't think there's oblivion. Knock on wood.
So, Lisa, I THINK I'm getting into Sydney at 6:45 a.m. on Sunday, June 25. And in definitely good news, I have started downloading Austalian rock music. It's fun and way 80's. There will be an endless roadtrip mix by the time I see you!
I searched for flights. I searched for flights exhaustively. On the flights I booked, going there was supposed to take 22 hours and two days (wacky dateline). Coming back was supposed to be 20 hours and one morning (wacky, nutbar-chomping dateline). But after the purchasing happened this complete itinerary popped up saying that within the 22-hour going-there flight there would be a 12-hour flight to French Polynesia, a 22-hour layover in said island paradise, and then a 30-hour flight to Sydney. The coming-back flight will apparently consist of a 30-hour leg from Sydney back to Polynesia and then a 40-minute jaunt from Polynesia to New York but still take only 20 hours total. I am comforted by the fact that this is all impossible. I mean, what planes can stay aloft 30 hours? Not Tahitian airbuses, right? Maybe AirTahiti has no clocks. Maybe it reckons time by how many renditions of Marching to Praetoria can be fit into a single flight and alternates randomly between leisurely-troll marches and keeping-up-with-the-cavalry marches. And if somehow the (wacky, freakish, INSANE) dateline makes all this possible, um, yay for free day in French Polynesia? The big concern is that I, of course, decided to push my luck and try to exploit the temporal magic and fly back on Sunday to get back to work Monday morning. So I'm really hoping that bit works out at least. I am hopeful. There can only be so much insanity before there's sheer oblivion. And I don't think there's oblivion. Knock on wood.
So, Lisa, I THINK I'm getting into Sydney at 6:45 a.m. on Sunday, June 25. And in definitely good news, I have started downloading Austalian rock music. It's fun and way 80's. There will be an endless roadtrip mix by the time I see you!