Thoughts that Happen During the Longest Trip on Earth

This is the story of one girl’s determination to take a large trip without layovers, inexpensively, and somewhat stupidly. Please enjoy my antics.

So. The longest trip on earth (or at least so it felt). I endured it recently, and lived to tell the story. It was not 4 days on a train through Asia (we’ve done that), nor was it bumping along in a bus on a dirt road for longer than bowels should have to suffer (been there too).

No, it was nowhere near as exotic a trip as that. It was just a bloody long haul – devoid of culture or enriching or even terrifying experience – from Canada to Australia. Between two points in two countries that are almost exactly as far away from each other on this not-so-small-world as is possible.

The trip should not have been that long. I mean, long – yes. The quickest route from Toronto to Melbourne will still be a 30 hour journey after necessary layovers and airport dramas.

But this journey in particular took 50 hours. And not a flight-has-been-delayed-and-your-itinerary-just-doubled sort of 50 hours; instead this was a completely intentional (possibly delusional) 50 hour itinerary.

It all started when I found a seat sale from Melbourne to New York City – return fare. It was a perfect chance to get me at least close to Toronto for my summer visit, and the price was pretty good. And traveling between New York and Toronto would be a cinch, right?

Well, on the way it was. Flying with Porter Air and enjoying the World’s Shortest Ferry Ride was a real treat after a two day rest in New York City.

Getting back to New York, however, was not as easy as I initially thought. Airfare was double the price than it was to go the other way (from New York to Toronto), which was an initial surprise. And I had no desire this time to layover in New York – I intended to catch my international flights from JFK airport directly.

As time ticked away and I scrambled to make an appearance on Canadian national tv, I also managed to miss the 14 day advance purchase price. Whoops – now airfares were triple the cost I had budgeted for.

Not only that, but finding a flight that would get me to JFK with enough time to allow for delays and still catch my international flights was proving to be a challenge. I finally found a great airfare time and price out of Buffalo – only to discover that there was no way to get to Buffalo early enough to catch the flight. And although I’ve slept on ferries and in airports before in the name of getting somewhere the night prior…it’s not something I like to do if I can avoid it.

And so the most logical solution (for my brain which was sadly devoid of logic) was to hop on an overnight bus from Toronto to New York City. I wouldn’t have to contend with airport delays or missing my flight out of New York; instead I could enjoy a fitful night of sleep on the overnight bus and wend my way across the city before catching a flight to LA, then Sydney, then Melbourne. All with a neat little nine hour layover in LA to break up the monotony (ahem).

All this travel adds up to 50 hours of dehydrating recycled-air bliss. Here are some of my crazed musings that happened along the way:

1) I had already ridden an overnight bus to NYC and gotten across the city to the airport, checked in, and made it to the gate. I sat down in the chair, looked at my watch, and did a quick time conversion to figure out what time it was in Australia. I then mused to myself that Kelly had TWO MORE SLEEPS until he came to pick me up in Melbourne!

2) I struck a moment when I realized why so many people have ipods and similar mp3 players (something I don’t own). 29 hours into the trip saw me going stir crazy as I finished up my nine hour layover in LA (this was surprisingly the most agonizing part of the whole journey –the 14 hour flight to Sydney was easy after this). This particular terminal had to be the dullest terminal on earth, with just about nothing to do and nowhere to eat.
It was here, that I began to contemplate elevator-music-suicide.
I knew I was in trouble when I broke down into tears upon hearing She’s Like The Wind played – elevator music style, in hour eight of the LA layover. I was placated with a self-reminder that at least it wasn’t the Phantom of the Opera or Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head (all elevator music style, of course) for the tenth time. But I was past emotional; I even got teary-eyed at the sight of McDonalds fries at one juncture.

3) And the suicidal-travel-moment that will go down in history for me: (drum roll please)
As I boarded the plane in LA (and embarked on the final 20 hours of my trip), I realized there was one avenue that I sadly had not considered in the process of looking for airfare back to New York. I could have called the airline and tried to switch my ticket to fly from Toronto directly to LA instead of from New York….and saved myself about 20 hours of agony. Then again, since I didn’t make the call I prefer to assume that the ticket was strictly unchangeable.

At least that’s my story, and for the sake of my sanity, I’m sticking to it.

Related posts:

1. The World’s Shortest Ferry Ride
2. My Latest Wanderings
3. Japan…or at Least the Airport

As you read this, I’m in the middle of a mammoth journey from Toronto Canada back to my current home 2 hours outside of Melbourne Australia. The trip is about 50 hours long (certainly the budget booking and not the most direct route!), and after the time difference, the trip amounts to leaving on Tuesday and arriving on Friday.

Oy.

But first, the last few weeks of my adventures:

After appearing on Canada AM on August 13^th, I was asked to do a five-part series for them! Although we were going to shoot it prior to my departure, I ended up being bumped (as you do) by a news story I can’t even bear to give lip service to. (!) However all is not lost; we are looking into shooting something remotely, and it will be aired in conjunction with the release of 10,001 Ways to Live Large on a Small Budget in Canadian bookstores, sometime in September.

Mexico

Shortly thereafter, I boarded a plane to Mexico at an ungodly hour  to join my high school friend Christine as maid of honour for her wedding. We were a group of 19 people, and it was a wonderful mix of personalities. Much fun was had by all, and although we are all feeling a little tired from so much sunshine, heat, and partying(!), we are also exhilarated from the amazing week and picture-perfect wedding.

Toronto – Festival of South Asia

Shortly after getting back from Mexico, I attended the Festival of South Asia on Gerrard Street (in an area known as “Little India” in certain circles). It was a wonderful way for me to celebrate the cultural diversity and my love of Toronto, my home town. I walked through the dense crowds, using common street sense but feeling very safe (ie: not worried about the purse dangling from my shoulder as I might worry in more foreign places) as we ate hoards and hoards of delicious Indian food from the various street stalls.

It rang home that I feel truly comfortable in Toronto, despite how it may have changed since I left a few years ago. Although I don’t know if I will ever live in Toronto again, I am still proud to call myself a Torontonian.

The Journey Home

As I alluded to, my trip back to Oz is over 50 hours in length. This was not supposed to transpire as such, but due to some flight complications and a lack of ability to make it to New York City easily (where I pick up my onward flights to LA, then Sydney, then Melbourne), I am ending up on the overnight bus to New York with the better part of a day to wend my way to the airport for my big flights.

Home

You will notice that despite my Canadian upbringing and heritage, I am now referring to my digs in Australia as home – despite my continued tourist status there. I have some dear friends there, not the least of whom is my boyfriend Kelly who has been tending the home fires (quite literally, as I have received reports that it has been a bloody cold winter!) in my absence.

I believe that home can be an ever-changing entity, and as such, I feel that right now my home is in Australia, and beside Kelly. Later, home will be some other location in the world, wherever I choose to hang my hat long enough to unpack and get used to the place.

Such is the life of a Professional Hobo, for better or worse. I love the fact that I have no idea where I will be this time next year. Opportunities, abound!

Related posts:

1. Airport Musings
2. Surprise!
3. Happy Winter, and Happy Anniversary

I first saw New York as a sixteenth birthday present from my mum. We did everything you would expect to do in this huge and energetic city: we ate foot-high deli sandwiches, saw Broadway shows, walked in Central Park, spent ages at the Met, rode to the top of the Empire State Building…you get the picture. Subsequent visits added to the repertoire of standard NYC activities…including a visit to the 911 memorials on my most recent visit.

But this time, a few things had changed: I was traveling on my own, I had a few online acquaintances to meet up with, and I only had two days to enjoy it – more as a place of transit than a destination in and of itself.

I also had the great good fortune to have received an offer of accommodation from one of my online acquaintances; a very generous offer that I stay in this fellow’s place while he shacked up with his girlfriend down the street. His only request was that I not take his stuff. (!)

After 33 hours of flights interspersed with two hour layovers, I arrived in New York. Add in a three hour charade in getting from the airport to my digs in Chinatown, and I was a little worse for wear, but energized by this massive city of skyscrapers and constant activity.

I had never visited NY’s Chinatown before, which made the location of my accommodation extra special. After living in the rural countryside of Australia for the last year, Chinatown offered me the potential for some serious gastronomical ecstasy. (Too bad that with the jet lag my body couldn’t figure out what time it was for the entire two days, making eating anything – even favourite foods – almost impossible).

After making my way up the five flights of narrow stairs in the heart of Chinatown, I was shown my home for the next two days. Although I have never seen a typical Manhattan bachelor pad before, I can only surmise that this place was fairly typical: very small but with all the necessary accouterments. It was also impeccably clean and considerably more elegant than you would expect from the look (and smell) of the street and stairwell. (Now that’s what I call good security)!

I usually forget something whenever I travel. It’s usually something small, and normally insignificant. So by the time I had boarded my first flight out of Melbourne, I already realized what I had forgotten: my laptop power cord. This was not so small a thing to have forgotten, as I tend to be attached at the hip to my beloved computer, and would even consider throwing myself in front of a bus to protect it (except for the fact that it would be useless to me if I were dead).

So task number one for me was to find and purchase a new power cord. This involved exactly what I love to do in New York: walking. I usually stay in the mid-town area, so being centered downtown offered a whole new array of things to see and experience. The day was sunny and beautiful, and everybody was out to enjoy it (as New York had seen a stretch of poor weather leading up to my visit as I understand it).

Most of the day was consequently spent wandering the streets of downtown Manhattan. That evening and the following day were spent meeting up with my online acquaintances, which was wonderful; I type quickly, but nothing matches the joy of fast-paced enriching conversation that jumps from topic to topic as quickly as our minds and mouths can keep up.

Most people I came into contact with asked me what I plan to see or do during my visit. My response took many off-guard: nothing.

Having done most of the touristy things in New York, this visit was an exercise in just being there. And as such, it was absolutely perfect.

I wandered the streets, and even occasionally engaged passers-by in conversation. Whereas in the past I might have been “scared” of interacting with strangers – especially on my own – in this big and foreboding city where anything could happen, instead I used a good dose of street sense and looked at everything with fresh and curious eyes.

If I have learned anything from my travels thus far, it is that 99% of the people in this world are fundamentally good. And absolutely everything I experienced in New York – receiving keys to a guy’s apartment without having ever met; the wonderful breakfast I was treated to in Little Italy; the awesome lunch and tour of a friend’s dynamic office; and the innumerable pleasant interactions with complete strangers – further proved this point.

Thank you New York City, and friends – you know who you are – for helping me to feel like a local in New York; even if it was just for two days.

Related posts:

1. Airport Musings
2. Roundup: December 1-15th
3. My Latest Wanderings