The Plunge Down Under

To the Hills

Memories of Ohio

We have conquered our second Monday morning back in the heart of winter in Melbourne.  I realised as I pulled the car into the garage this morning that driving on the left side of the road has become second nature again.  Thankfully I only pulled out on the wrong side (i.e. right side) of our side street twice last week, momentary mistakes that were quickly corrected.  It will be another couple of weeks at least before I quit mixing up the turn signals and windshield wipers, but those are only minor irritations. 

New York: The Sequel

The following post elaborates on my previous NYC post from last week with additional photos and details. 

It is not very often the case that the sequel is better than the original.  New York City is an exception, at least in my experience.  It just seems to get better and better.  The expert planning skills and enthusiasm of my friend Gillian might play a role, to be sure, but this is a city that has so much to offer it boggles the mind.  One visit is not enough. 

Whirlwind Visit to Pittsburgh

After four full days back in Melbourne, it seems almost surreal that just one week ago today we were catching up with friends in our hometown.    The children and I spent just over 36 hours in Pittsburgh, not nearly long enough, but better than not visiting at all.  That I was able to accomplish what I did, I owe almost entirely to the generosity of my friend Vera.  Not only did she host all five of us for two nights and feed us several truly "from-scratch" meals from the bounty of her own garden, she supervised my children for hours while I did some running around.  

Home Again

It's 4pm on Monday afternoon, and so far everyone in our house is still awake. That's a good thing. Yesterday by this time all of the kids were out for the count. They began begging to be allowed to go to bed around 3pm, and by 3:30 we caved.  I had thoughts of a nice, long quiet evening catching up with Ross, but instead I fell asleep shortly after they did. I should probably note that we gently encourage (insist) that our overseas guests stay up until at least 8pm on their first day in Australia.  If only we had the will power to do the same for ourselves.  In our defense, not only are the unpacked suitcases representing multiple loads of laundry rather daunting, it is winter, and the long, dark evenings are definitely not inspiring.

Thankfully this morning the sun came out, even if it was hours after we were up and about.  I took my camera along when I walked James to school.  His sisters and brother don't start back until tomorrow, and he was understandably annoyed that I was making him go to school.  The smiles came out once he arrived on school grounds, however, and he came home enthused over his first day back.  

 

The days may be far too short, but there are still plenty of blossoms to enjoy.  They make the return to winter after an interlude of warm, sunny days more bearable.

I hope to see you soon in this space, once the worst of the jetlag is behind us, with more highlights from our visit to North America.  

 

 

NYC

New York City, New York  July 9,2013

The announcement into the crowded waiting room this morning came as no surprise.  My flight was cancelled.  This made the third flight in a row for me to meet this fate. I pasted a smile on my face before requesting that I be put on standby for the next flight.  The airline attendant was friendly but gave me no guarantees.  Soon it became clear that those of us without any special status, or with no crucial connecting flights in Cleveland, were out of luck.  We were left standing at the gate, staring at one broken down plane, and one plane departing with every seat filled. 

Several adults around me behaved little better than toddlers when they realized that they were not part of the privileged few had been put on the next departing flight.  The man next to me went so far as to stomp his feet very much like a certain six-year-old that I know. I shrugged my shoulders and went into action. 

I know the drill pretty well by now.  This is what it looks like:  

First you wait in a line for an agent to try to book you on another flight to your desired city.  I have no idea why this takes so long.  It apparently requires enough typing of keyboard characters to fill a short novel just to determine that, in fact, “I am sorry to inform you that every seat has been filled on all remaining flights today. “ When this happens, make sure to ask about checking other airlines, other routes, other connections.  This all requires more time and more violent typing on the keyboard.  If you are lucky, the agent will find you a seat on a competing airline and issue an itinerary.  

Once you have been assured that you have a seat on a flight, the fun is not over yet.  Not by a long shot.  Next it is necessary to exit the secure area and wait in line at the check-in point all over again.  It might be necessary to change terminals. In the busy summer months this can take up to an hour.  

Be sure to double check your boarding pass before you walk away from the counter because it is not very pleasant to wait in the long security line only to find out you have been issued a boarding pass that identifies you as “Candace travelling to Denver” rather than "Christie traveling to Cleveland."  The punctilious folks at the TSA will not let you through, and you must start all over again (HINT:  try to find a friendly looking airline agent of the opposite sex and explain your predicament so you don’t have to wait an hour in the check in line again.)

Proper boarding pass in hand, it is time to head back to security.  Likely you are very thirsty by this point, but of course with the ban on liquids, it is not a good idea to stop and purchase a drink.  The whole experience of flying in the summer is an exercise in patience and endurance, but nowhere more so than in the security line.  Hapless passengers fumble with belongings.  Babies scream, toddlers cry.  I want to cry too.  I feel for the elderly in particular. After several experiences of watching them painfully make their way through all the hoops of security, my grumbling turns to gratitude that I am young enough to easily do all that is required--even if I do occasionally make the mistake of forgetting about the full toiletry bag in my carry-on luggage.  This mistake results in the agony of losing every single one of the precious liquids and ointments. 

When the indignities of the security line are finally conquered, it is time to take a deep breath and look for a food source.  It will likely be hours before proper food is available again.  Equally crucial are accessible power points.  Unexpected delays in the airport usually mean that at least one electronic device needs to be charged.  

 The ordeal, as described above, consumed approximately three hours of my morning earlier today. Eventually I was seated comfortably, new boarding pass in hand, computer plugged in, coffee next to me, with nothing to do but wait.  Frustrating as the experience had been, I still felt mostly grateful.  Grateful that I had the opportunity to fly to New York City in the first place.  Grateful for four fun days planned by a friend who not only can put up with my quirks, but who also happens to be an expert in sorting out the details of sightseeing in the Big Apple.  Following are photos from some of the highlights of our trip.  I hope you enjoy them.

Bike Tour over the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges

The ballet Sleeping Beauty, closing night at the Lincoln Center

Culinary delights, some more upscale than others (Gillian had never heard of sliders before):

Dinner at the Central Park Boathouse

Walking the streets, and in particular, the surprisingly green High Line.

Taking in the high views--from rooftops, Top of the Rock, and best of all, from a helicopter.

I have put the finishing touches on this post from Pittsburgh, where very dear and generous friends have taken us in and looked after us with nonstop hospitality and kindness.  Next stop:  Akron, Ohio followed by the long trek back to Melbourne.  Thanks for taking the journey with us through these posts!  I'll check in again soon, most likely from the Far Side of the World.

Greetings From Fremont on the Fourth of July

Family gatherings, boating, kissing cousins, swimming, grilling hamburgers, roasting marshmallows ... and fireworks of course.  Happy Independence Day to all of my American readers.

 

 

 

Michigan At Last

It turns out that we would have been better off driving the eighteen hours from Fredericton, New Brunswick to my brother's house in Michigan rather than attempting to fly through Newark.  We did make it eventually, however, about twenty-four hours late.  Thankfully Michigan welcomed us with clear skies, brilliant sunshine and delightful breezes---the kind of weather that makes you wonder why anyone would choose to live anywhere else.

After forty-eight hours of travel---long van rides, schlepping through airports, lugging too many suitcases in and out of three motels, and endless choruses of "Are we there yet??" Greg and Karin's house appeared, a veritable oasis.  It is filled with delightful corners that are worthy of magazine spreads, and with food that is second to none.  We devoured freshly baked cardamom bread before moving on to a three course dinner that began with grilled cheese and peaches.  Karin had prepared two types of pasta dishes, a fettucinne alfredo purposely thrown together for the younger set, and then a fabulous ricotta cake served with local strawberries for dessert.  Every mouthful was pure pleasure.

After dinner, Greg asked the adults if they would like tea or coffee.  James quickly piped up, "I'll have a cup of tea" with an unmistakable Aussie accent.  He was very surprised, and rather pleased I suspect, when his uncle brought him out his very own cup of milky tea.

From Greg and Karin's house we moved on to my grandmother's house on the lake.  This time unloading the van was not quite so painful as we planned to stay put for a few days.  The cousins quickly became reacquainted, and our days have been filled with lots of cheerful chatter, choruses of laughter, the odd quarrel, and my grandmother's delicious cooking.

Lea had a long conversation with her uncle about eating worms.

My brother Andy had the job of untangling Cameron's fishing rod.

Sophie has been in seventh heaven with a little cousin to cart around, spoil and coddle.

My mom loves hanging out with her grandkids.  They love her too.

On Monday, after feeding all eighteen of us (no mean feat), we piled into three vans and headed for Silver Lake State Park, home to a series of large sand dunes.  The dunes were created unintentionally after the great Chicago fire of 1871.  Originally the hills pictured below were covered with trees, many of which were cut down and shipped to Chicago to help with the rebuilding process.  A subsequent forest fire near Silver Lake destroyed the trees left behind, and within a short matter of time, the soil was gone, leaving hill upon hill of shifting sand.

We watched dozens of dune buggies tearing up and down the dunes, and then decided to take a ride of our own.  Our driver took us roaring over several hills, much to the delight of the children in our party.  Their squeals of joy and shrieks of laughter brought smiles to the faces of all the adults.

Before heading home, we drove to the Point Sable Lighthouse.  While everyone else headed down to splash in the cold waters of Lake Michigan, I climbed the lighthouse with Sophie, James and Mya.  

All in all, it was a spectacular day---hours filled with delightful memories, and Michigan at its very, very best.  Well worth every minute of the forty-eight hours it took to get here.