We've just woken up from our last sleep in our flat. We've been sleeping on the floor for the last week, as a friend bought the bed! Luckily some other friends have let us borrow some camp mattresses, and we have a bunch of fabric going to the opshop that includes a very thick curtain to use as a base layer!
I planned to write more here about the process of packing up the house and migrating, but in the end it's just been too busy. I submitted my PhD dissertation for examination just under two weeks ago; since then, it's been a whirlwind of packing, garage sale, moving things, catching up with friends, packing, cleaning, catching up with friends, visiting Melbourne's fine eateries, packing our storage container, packing, weighing our bags, sending boxes, packing, doing paperwork, packing, and so on. This has been much more stressful than finishing the PhD! I think I didn't (let myself) realise what a big thing it was not just to be moving house and going overseas, but to be vacating a house, putting things in storage, organising to rent the flat, moving to live overseas, etc. I'm thankful for all the things I did well in advance!
We have found a property manager to look after renting our flat while we're away - they come recommended by our financial adviser/power of attorney, so it is good to know they have a working relationship. The painter (friend's dad) is coming to finish off the painting and put up the blind, etc. tomorrow. The property manager will get the carpets steam cleaned, and hopefully everything will be ready to go for an inspection this weekend. I hope we get some tenants who like this flat as much as we do!
It's been sad saying goodbye to all our friends and family here - and to Melbourne itself, though I guess in a way I've been doing that for months. I think I've been pushing the bigness of it all aside, as I haven't had the time or space to do anything but organise, organise, organise. In fact, I think the fact we're leaving hasn't really sunk in at all - I didn't even have anxiety dreams last night. I'm also trying to be in the moment, to enjoy hanging out with friends when we do and give them lots of hugs, to listen to the distant sounds of trams turning the corner and birds calling in the day. Today we'll go for a quick walk along the creek and breathe the air. Tonight we'll see the lights of Melbourne spread out below as we take to the sky...
Tomorrow we'll be in London.
Showing posts with label travel anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel anxiety. Show all posts
3 October 2011
10 March 2010
MARCH 2010: THORNBURY TO EPPING: 20KM
well, tomorrow we are off to the uk! we've had a busy and slightly stressful preparation period: d has been writing a wedding speech with his brother via email and skype, j has been finding a wedding outfit (buying a suit and shirt, having them altered, finding shoes and a belt, a cravat and pocket square, cufflinks and socks). so, it was nice on sunday to go for a day-long walk with g from the merri creek in thornbury to epping station. it was the longest walk we'd done since we got back from the uk last october, and it is good to know we still have 20km in us!
all our photos of the walk can be seen here, and g's photos are here.
the route itself was a bit of an experiment. i had seen a thin green strip running diagonally across the melways, and decided to check it out on google maps (satellite view) to see if it looked walkable. it did. it was marked as 'pipeline' in the melways, and i noticed that there were a couple of seemingly interconnecting pipeline tracks around. i decided to trace these to darebin creek, then wind north with that to epping station. we weren't sure if we'd be able to follow the planned route, but we were looking forward to trying! you can see the route map here, but i'll attempt to embed a version below, too.
g has a new camera, which he was experimenting with on the walk. he took some lovely pics!
j and d near merri creek, photo by g
we started off by the creek, which was flooded after the epic hailstorm the day before, then found the start of the pipe track near murray rd.
merri in flood
g and d at the start of the pipe track
it was raining very lightly so we didn't stop for many photos before we got to reservoir station and grabbed a bite to eat from the bakery. it was interesting to walk this way through a suburb, cutting diagonally across streets and blocks. it was kind of like walking through a grassy/weedy alleyway. after the station we turned onto cheddar rd, which has an extremely wide middle part with very little on it apart from a bike track and a few trees and street signs. looking straight ahead we could see distant hills, and felt the yearning to walk right out of the city (which we almost did!).
cheddar road bike track
after a while we turned off cheddar road to follow the line of what might be a different pipe (not sure) north east. this was a much wider and more open space, with large suburban gardens backing onto it. a lot of residents have reclaimed the edges of the space for vegetable gardens, herbs and flowers, and fruit trees. i took a couple of figs, and we chewed on a leaf of mint as we continued on.
reclaimed space
the track along the pipeline
garden leaves, photo by g
as i mentioned, this was an interesting way to see the suburbs, and to chart the progress from new apartments to 70s brick units to houses with ramshackle gardens to industrial estate. we continued under the transmission lines and soon came to norris bank reserve on darebin creek. we didn't take many pictures there, which is a shame because it's a lovely little park. we stopped for lunch there.
transmission lines, photo by g
space // suburbia
after lunch, we followed darebin creek up to the ring road. it's amazing how similar in feeling the creeks are when they pass under the ring roads. we've now hit that road on the merri, moonee ponds and darebin creeks! we saw a bit of wildlife around here - including a rabbit and a white faced heron.
white faced heron, photo by g
under one of the many bridges!
the sun had come out before lunch, and by the time we reached north of the ring road we were pretty hot. this didn't stop g from messing about for a bit on the play equipment!
g is proud of his achievements!
thistle head
as we drew closer to epping - and after we'd had a bit of a rest across the creek from lalor - the cloud front we'd admired for much of the day (see the bottom of the photo "space // suburbia" above) drew overhead, the temperature cooled, and we felt a few spots of rain. we hobbled to epping station and hopped on a waiting train. our walk was over! (except for the bit where we had to walk another 2km home from the station because the bus left just before we could catch it!)
the after shot!
all in all, a great day! i'm now really interested to see if there are other pipe tracks around melbourne to check out. they make really useful corridors for walkers, and because they're straight you also cover a lot of ground quite quickly.
*
now, we must finish packing!!! next blog will probably be from london!
all our photos of the walk can be seen here, and g's photos are here.
the route itself was a bit of an experiment. i had seen a thin green strip running diagonally across the melways, and decided to check it out on google maps (satellite view) to see if it looked walkable. it did. it was marked as 'pipeline' in the melways, and i noticed that there were a couple of seemingly interconnecting pipeline tracks around. i decided to trace these to darebin creek, then wind north with that to epping station. we weren't sure if we'd be able to follow the planned route, but we were looking forward to trying! you can see the route map here, but i'll attempt to embed a version below, too.
g has a new camera, which he was experimenting with on the walk. he took some lovely pics!
we started off by the creek, which was flooded after the epic hailstorm the day before, then found the start of the pipe track near murray rd.
merri in flood
g and d at the start of the pipe track
it was raining very lightly so we didn't stop for many photos before we got to reservoir station and grabbed a bite to eat from the bakery. it was interesting to walk this way through a suburb, cutting diagonally across streets and blocks. it was kind of like walking through a grassy/weedy alleyway. after the station we turned onto cheddar rd, which has an extremely wide middle part with very little on it apart from a bike track and a few trees and street signs. looking straight ahead we could see distant hills, and felt the yearning to walk right out of the city (which we almost did!).
cheddar road bike track
after a while we turned off cheddar road to follow the line of what might be a different pipe (not sure) north east. this was a much wider and more open space, with large suburban gardens backing onto it. a lot of residents have reclaimed the edges of the space for vegetable gardens, herbs and flowers, and fruit trees. i took a couple of figs, and we chewed on a leaf of mint as we continued on.
reclaimed space
the track along the pipeline
as i mentioned, this was an interesting way to see the suburbs, and to chart the progress from new apartments to 70s brick units to houses with ramshackle gardens to industrial estate. we continued under the transmission lines and soon came to norris bank reserve on darebin creek. we didn't take many pictures there, which is a shame because it's a lovely little park. we stopped for lunch there.
space // suburbia
after lunch, we followed darebin creek up to the ring road. it's amazing how similar in feeling the creeks are when they pass under the ring roads. we've now hit that road on the merri, moonee ponds and darebin creeks! we saw a bit of wildlife around here - including a rabbit and a white faced heron.
under one of the many bridges!
the sun had come out before lunch, and by the time we reached north of the ring road we were pretty hot. this didn't stop g from messing about for a bit on the play equipment!
g is proud of his achievements!
thistle head
as we drew closer to epping - and after we'd had a bit of a rest across the creek from lalor - the cloud front we'd admired for much of the day (see the bottom of the photo "space // suburbia" above) drew overhead, the temperature cooled, and we felt a few spots of rain. we hobbled to epping station and hopped on a waiting train. our walk was over! (except for the bit where we had to walk another 2km home from the station because the bus left just before we could catch it!)
the after shot!
all in all, a great day! i'm now really interested to see if there are other pipe tracks around melbourne to check out. they make really useful corridors for walkers, and because they're straight you also cover a lot of ground quite quickly.
*
now, we must finish packing!!! next blog will probably be from london!
3 September 2009
THESE THINGS MUST BE DONE
LESS THAN A WEEK UNTIL WE GO! YAY!
I'm on leave from uni. I'm meeting my supervisor tomorrow and then I'm free! It's Dan's last day of work tomorrow, and my last day of work on Saturday. On Sunday we're going to do a circular walk from Warburton (map). On Monday night we're having drinks at the East (vegan fish and chips, here I come!). We've confirmed our flights, vegetarian meals, etc. We've written and edited packing lists and done a practice pack. I have to re-stuff my bag full of telephone books and cushions for the walk on Sunday, then pack it properly after that. We have gifts for people, and I have collated addresses for postcards (not as many people replied to my email as I expected - what's with you people, don't you LIKE postcards?!?!?) to send around the world. I have to return library books and books borrowed from other people. I still need to double check and photocopy all my admin stuff. Washing, vacuuming, cleaning, gardening needs to be done. We need to eat all the food out of the fridge and freezer and defrost (we'll leave it off while we're away). I have to file my uni stuff so it's easy to remember what I was up to when I get back. We need to hand over our keys to the house-looker-afterer. There are all these little things to remember. Lucky we've got lists, or I would be making myself totally sick with anxiety!
I'm on leave from uni. I'm meeting my supervisor tomorrow and then I'm free! It's Dan's last day of work tomorrow, and my last day of work on Saturday. On Sunday we're going to do a circular walk from Warburton (map). On Monday night we're having drinks at the East (vegan fish and chips, here I come!). We've confirmed our flights, vegetarian meals, etc. We've written and edited packing lists and done a practice pack. I have to re-stuff my bag full of telephone books and cushions for the walk on Sunday, then pack it properly after that. We have gifts for people, and I have collated addresses for postcards (not as many people replied to my email as I expected - what's with you people, don't you LIKE postcards?!?!?) to send around the world. I have to return library books and books borrowed from other people. I still need to double check and photocopy all my admin stuff. Washing, vacuuming, cleaning, gardening needs to be done. We need to eat all the food out of the fridge and freezer and defrost (we'll leave it off while we're away). I have to file my uni stuff so it's easy to remember what I was up to when I get back. We need to hand over our keys to the house-looker-afterer. There are all these little things to remember. Lucky we've got lists, or I would be making myself totally sick with anxiety!
18 August 2009
ANXIOUS / PRIVILEGE
last night i had my first anxiety dream about walking. it's a tediously long "and then" narrative, with a bit of "when did you even decide to stay in the hotel? you have just arrived after walking the wrong way along the coast, and you have only just had a conversation with the travel agent about how trains to penzance only go every second day? but now you have to RE-PACK YOUR BAGS AND RUN FOR THE FERRY, YOU IDIOT!" thrown in.
on the plus side, this means we are leaving soon! yay! on the minus side, i am tired after waking up 2 hours before i wanted to be awake.
*
my friend hope has written an interesting post about the massive amounts of male privilege involved in the kind of drifting, whimsical travel undertaken by writers like bill bryson (and tv presenters, too). go and read it and comment! i've been meaning to make a related post here for a while, but i think i'll just post my comment here instead, and send you to hope's journal for discussions.
i then went on to ask: and what does it say that as i pass more and more as a guy, it's as though i find these adventurous possibilities opening up to me? it's not just "check out what i did!" coming from these narratives, it's "you could try something like this, too!" this kind of subliminal encouragement is the force of privilege at work, absolutely. most of the books are by men. white men. that's me! i can have those adventures!* and as my attitude to travel has changed, i've become angrier and sadder about the 25-or-so years of my life when there i wasn't encouraged and supported and valued as someone who could do that.
and so, as hope says, "Where are the women travellers, explorers, flaneuses (sp?) on TV?" where are the trans people drifting across europe and writing books about it? where are the people of colour walking the country lanes of england? where are the people with physical disabilities presenting international travel programs? please, recommend me some tv, some walking shows, some history/travel programmes, some adventure writing done by these people!
* although being trans complicates some things so much that it's difficult to even contemplate the logistics of them. i will post about this another time.
on the plus side, this means we are leaving soon! yay! on the minus side, i am tired after waking up 2 hours before i wanted to be awake.
*
my friend hope has written an interesting post about the massive amounts of male privilege involved in the kind of drifting, whimsical travel undertaken by writers like bill bryson (and tv presenters, too). go and read it and comment! i've been meaning to make a related post here for a while, but i think i'll just post my comment here instead, and send you to hope's journal for discussions.
i've actually been thinking about writing something on the walking blog about all the terrific adventures had in travel writing . . . by passing-as-heterosexual, cis, white men. i mean, i love nicholas crane, and i think two degrees west actually shits all over notes from a small island (or maybe i can just relate to it more?), but i'm still . . . can you see a black man easily being able to get these stories out of gruff landlords? do you think the army would treat a woman asking to cross their firing range with the same respect? would a trans and/or visibly queer person be so comfortable marching through the backwaters and presumably having to wash in public? (and this doesn't even begin to touch on the able-bodied privilege of a lot of travel in general.)
i then went on to ask: and what does it say that as i pass more and more as a guy, it's as though i find these adventurous possibilities opening up to me? it's not just "check out what i did!" coming from these narratives, it's "you could try something like this, too!" this kind of subliminal encouragement is the force of privilege at work, absolutely. most of the books are by men. white men. that's me! i can have those adventures!* and as my attitude to travel has changed, i've become angrier and sadder about the 25-or-so years of my life when there i wasn't encouraged and supported and valued as someone who could do that.
and so, as hope says, "Where are the women travellers, explorers, flaneuses (sp?) on TV?" where are the trans people drifting across europe and writing books about it? where are the people of colour walking the country lanes of england? where are the people with physical disabilities presenting international travel programs? please, recommend me some tv, some walking shows, some history/travel programmes, some adventure writing done by these people!
* although being trans complicates some things so much that it's difficult to even contemplate the logistics of them. i will post about this another time.
1 May 2008
YOU CAN CHECK OUT ANY TIME YOU LIKE
There are many ways in which you can be made to feel tiny, powerless, frustrated, anxious, guilty, and utterly alone and homesick.
My flight was due to leave at 9:45am from LA and arrive in Vancouver at about 12:40. My aim was to check in at 7:45am, so the night before I packed everything neatly into my bags, and made sure everything was in order – passport, e-ticket, address in Vancouver, departure form for the USA, toiletries in a clear plastic bag, sharp stuff in check-in luggage, etc. We went to bed early, but I woke up in the middle of the night and stayed awake for at least an hour. I woke up again just before 6am and turned off the alarm (set for 6:30) before it had a chance to go off. Showered, dressed, ate a bagel. Said goodbye to the hospitable Rohan at about 6:50, and schlepped my bags over to the corner of Rose and Lincoln to catch the bus. The walk took me longer than expected – probably about 25 minutes. I caught the bus at 7:20-ish, and all ran smoothly. Talked a bit to a guy who lives in LA but grew up in Montreal, and was nice in that friendly American way. Hopped off at the LAX shuttle bus, and had the following amusing exchange:
“Hi. Excuse me, does this shuttle go to Terminal 7?”
“Oh no, it goes to New Jersey.”
“. . .”
“It goes first to New Jersey, and then to Terminal 7.”
“. . . Ha! Stop shitting me!”
“Oh, I ain’t shitting you. . . Naw, it goes to all the terminals.”
Got off at Terminal 7 at about 8:10am, to find that it only services United Airlines. My ticket was for Air Canada. Asked one of the few customer service people, and he confirmed that it was Air Canada operated by United, and I could do self check-in with an Australian passport. Got to self check-in, and tried to do so. Couldn’t. Talked to another person on the phone next to the check-in bit, and eventually got a confirmation number from her (it was so loud in the airport I could barely hear myself think, let alone understand someone talking 60 miles an hour on the phone), did all the check-in business, and a guy came over to put my bags through. At which point he looked at my Australian passport with its visa waiver thingy and told me I had to wait for someone higher up on the chain. Waited. Waited. Felt a headache coming on. About 15 minutes later someone came, took a look at my passport, pressed something like 4 keys on the computer and sent me on my way.
At about 8:40, already frustrated at the stupid “Easy check-in” system of ineptitude, I made my way to security. First up someone examined my passport with all manner of little torches – presumably to detect forgery – and asked me how old I was. When I said 26 (which, you know, I am, as it says on my passport) she exclaimed how young I looked “with yo’ baby face!” She was nice, though (and rather amusingly said, “Atta boy”, when I handed her my passport), so I was happy again. Until I got to the scanning section, where I had to take off pretty much all my clothes (OK, shoes, socks, belt, keys, coins, jacket or jumper) and put things in separate trays. So caught up was I with making sure I was OK to get through, I forgot to take my laptop out of my bag. It got put through again after took the laptop out, asked about the camera, put it back on the conveyor belt. Walked through the metal detector and was asked to once again produce my passport and boarding information. Oh, the dreaded words. “I’ll just ask you to step aside here, sir. You’ve been selected by the airline for further security screening.” I waited in the little pen, surrounded by ropes, until yet another security officer took my bag and shoes and other trays of bits and pieces, and asked for my passport and boarding info. Off to the side I went, where I got the pat down from the guy (I wonder if they do like Australian airports tend to do and use female security to pat down women passengers? I did notice that through my entire time at the airport I got ‘Sir’ three or four times, ‘boy’ and ‘Ma’am’ only once). He then proceeded to swab my computer, shoes, and every pocket of my bag, and threw out the bottle of water I had completely forgotten about. The swabs went into a little machine thing, which told me that no traces of explosives were found on any of my things. I was quite happy about that. Once the last one was done, he handed me my belt, said, “Pack your stuff up”, and wandered away, so I was left in the middle of the security section of LAX with my stuff all over the table putting on my shoes and feeling more alone than I have for ages. If I could have wished for one thing right then it would have been for a friend (preferably Dan) to be waiting for me to give me a hug at the other side.
No such luck. Instead I found myself walking several miles to my departure gate and wondering how the hell I was going to be able to get through all this shit when I flew in from Toronto with only an hour and a half between that flight and the flight out to Auckland/Melbourne. After the disgusting coffee the day before I went for a café latte at Starbucks, which was acceptable after I added 2 sugars and a good few shakes of chocolate and cinnamon. I sat down to relax in the departure lounge for the last 10 minuted before boarding, but immediately got paged to come to the desk. Once there I was required once again to produce my passport and boarding info, was asked if I was coming back through the USA within thirty days, got my visa waiver info reattached to my passport, and then removed, watched the three customer service people try to assign me a seat on two different computers, and started stressing again that I was not ever going to be able to leave the hellhole that is LAX.
Seriously, it’s enough to make me paranoid about travelling as a transperson.
But I did. I made it. I’m now on the (overheated) plane to Vancouver with a huge group of middle-aged American couples who are all heading to the same thing in Canada (no idea what). The current temperature in Vancouver is allegedly 8 degrees. Given that I’ve spent the last 4 days sun(burn)ning myself in temperatures between about 25 and 32 degrees, I am not looking forward to the cold. Out the dirty window I can just see the west coast of the USA scribbling its way into the ocean, pressing against lines of hills, looking sleepy and yellow-dry under the haze.
Me on the plane today
I’m looking forward to seeing friends, and I am really excited about the conference, but at the moment I am tired and feel like crying and I want nothing more than to crawl into my own bed with my own Dan and sleep for a year.
ETA: HOLY FUCK! A MOUNTAIN! Um, sorry. It’s just huge and has snow all over it. I wonder what mountain it is. Wow.
ETA2: Oh, and they also cut the lock off my checked through luggage and went through it to check out if that was explosive, too.
ETA3: VANCOUVER. IS. GORGEOUS. And not cold, but refreshingly cool. Holy moly. It’s beautiful. Stunning. Mountains with snow when you look down the street. Clichés of awesome. And our condo is, one might say, premium. Very civilised. Az scored on this one!
ETA4: I’ll try to get my photos up soon. Some are already on flickr.
Planewing at sunrise over the Pacific
My flight was due to leave at 9:45am from LA and arrive in Vancouver at about 12:40. My aim was to check in at 7:45am, so the night before I packed everything neatly into my bags, and made sure everything was in order – passport, e-ticket, address in Vancouver, departure form for the USA, toiletries in a clear plastic bag, sharp stuff in check-in luggage, etc. We went to bed early, but I woke up in the middle of the night and stayed awake for at least an hour. I woke up again just before 6am and turned off the alarm (set for 6:30) before it had a chance to go off. Showered, dressed, ate a bagel. Said goodbye to the hospitable Rohan at about 6:50, and schlepped my bags over to the corner of Rose and Lincoln to catch the bus. The walk took me longer than expected – probably about 25 minutes. I caught the bus at 7:20-ish, and all ran smoothly. Talked a bit to a guy who lives in LA but grew up in Montreal, and was nice in that friendly American way. Hopped off at the LAX shuttle bus, and had the following amusing exchange:
“Hi. Excuse me, does this shuttle go to Terminal 7?”
“Oh no, it goes to New Jersey.”
“. . .”
“It goes first to New Jersey, and then to Terminal 7.”
“. . . Ha! Stop shitting me!”
“Oh, I ain’t shitting you. . . Naw, it goes to all the terminals.”
Got off at Terminal 7 at about 8:10am, to find that it only services United Airlines. My ticket was for Air Canada. Asked one of the few customer service people, and he confirmed that it was Air Canada operated by United, and I could do self check-in with an Australian passport. Got to self check-in, and tried to do so. Couldn’t. Talked to another person on the phone next to the check-in bit, and eventually got a confirmation number from her (it was so loud in the airport I could barely hear myself think, let alone understand someone talking 60 miles an hour on the phone), did all the check-in business, and a guy came over to put my bags through. At which point he looked at my Australian passport with its visa waiver thingy and told me I had to wait for someone higher up on the chain. Waited. Waited. Felt a headache coming on. About 15 minutes later someone came, took a look at my passport, pressed something like 4 keys on the computer and sent me on my way.
At about 8:40, already frustrated at the stupid “Easy check-in” system of ineptitude, I made my way to security. First up someone examined my passport with all manner of little torches – presumably to detect forgery – and asked me how old I was. When I said 26 (which, you know, I am, as it says on my passport) she exclaimed how young I looked “with yo’ baby face!” She was nice, though (and rather amusingly said, “Atta boy”, when I handed her my passport), so I was happy again. Until I got to the scanning section, where I had to take off pretty much all my clothes (OK, shoes, socks, belt, keys, coins, jacket or jumper) and put things in separate trays. So caught up was I with making sure I was OK to get through, I forgot to take my laptop out of my bag. It got put through again after took the laptop out, asked about the camera, put it back on the conveyor belt. Walked through the metal detector and was asked to once again produce my passport and boarding information. Oh, the dreaded words. “I’ll just ask you to step aside here, sir. You’ve been selected by the airline for further security screening.” I waited in the little pen, surrounded by ropes, until yet another security officer took my bag and shoes and other trays of bits and pieces, and asked for my passport and boarding info. Off to the side I went, where I got the pat down from the guy (I wonder if they do like Australian airports tend to do and use female security to pat down women passengers? I did notice that through my entire time at the airport I got ‘Sir’ three or four times, ‘boy’ and ‘Ma’am’ only once). He then proceeded to swab my computer, shoes, and every pocket of my bag, and threw out the bottle of water I had completely forgotten about. The swabs went into a little machine thing, which told me that no traces of explosives were found on any of my things. I was quite happy about that. Once the last one was done, he handed me my belt, said, “Pack your stuff up”, and wandered away, so I was left in the middle of the security section of LAX with my stuff all over the table putting on my shoes and feeling more alone than I have for ages. If I could have wished for one thing right then it would have been for a friend (preferably Dan) to be waiting for me to give me a hug at the other side.
No such luck. Instead I found myself walking several miles to my departure gate and wondering how the hell I was going to be able to get through all this shit when I flew in from Toronto with only an hour and a half between that flight and the flight out to Auckland/Melbourne. After the disgusting coffee the day before I went for a café latte at Starbucks, which was acceptable after I added 2 sugars and a good few shakes of chocolate and cinnamon. I sat down to relax in the departure lounge for the last 10 minuted before boarding, but immediately got paged to come to the desk. Once there I was required once again to produce my passport and boarding info, was asked if I was coming back through the USA within thirty days, got my visa waiver info reattached to my passport, and then removed, watched the three customer service people try to assign me a seat on two different computers, and started stressing again that I was not ever going to be able to leave the hellhole that is LAX.
Seriously, it’s enough to make me paranoid about travelling as a transperson.
But I did. I made it. I’m now on the (overheated) plane to Vancouver with a huge group of middle-aged American couples who are all heading to the same thing in Canada (no idea what). The current temperature in Vancouver is allegedly 8 degrees. Given that I’ve spent the last 4 days sun(burn)ning myself in temperatures between about 25 and 32 degrees, I am not looking forward to the cold. Out the dirty window I can just see the west coast of the USA scribbling its way into the ocean, pressing against lines of hills, looking sleepy and yellow-dry under the haze.
I’m looking forward to seeing friends, and I am really excited about the conference, but at the moment I am tired and feel like crying and I want nothing more than to crawl into my own bed with my own Dan and sleep for a year.
ETA: HOLY FUCK! A MOUNTAIN! Um, sorry. It’s just huge and has snow all over it. I wonder what mountain it is. Wow.
ETA2: Oh, and they also cut the lock off my checked through luggage and went through it to check out if that was explosive, too.
ETA3: VANCOUVER. IS. GORGEOUS. And not cold, but refreshingly cool. Holy moly. It’s beautiful. Stunning. Mountains with snow when you look down the street. Clichés of awesome. And our condo is, one might say, premium. Very civilised. Az scored on this one!
ETA4: I’ll try to get my photos up soon. Some are already on flickr.
12 February 2008
FRUSTRATION
I had travel anxiety dreams last night – trying to book accommodation has clearly addled my mind! It was one of those dreams where people’s flights were delayed, and I had to start walking without them, and then the accommodation hadn’t been booked properly and we ended up having to walk half a day, then walk back to the place we’d stayed the night before and it was ALL SO FRUSTRATING.
Partly this is due to the fact that of the three places I emailed last Sunday to enquire about accommodation for the UK walk, only one wrote back (to say they weren’t around that week). I emailed another place last Thursday as an alternative to that one, but haven’t heard back from them, either. I think that 9 days is a bit crap, don’t you? I mean, if people don’t have an email address, that’s something I can work around, but if they do have an email address, they should bloody well use it. If you don’t check it, don’t offer it as a service. Sheesh!
Luckily, Dan’s mum is a legend and has agreed to ring these places and check things with them. It’s great having a lovely UK contact to do that so we’re not spending hundreds of dollars on phone bills.
Partly this is due to the fact that of the three places I emailed last Sunday to enquire about accommodation for the UK walk, only one wrote back (to say they weren’t around that week). I emailed another place last Thursday as an alternative to that one, but haven’t heard back from them, either. I think that 9 days is a bit crap, don’t you? I mean, if people don’t have an email address, that’s something I can work around, but if they do have an email address, they should bloody well use it. If you don’t check it, don’t offer it as a service. Sheesh!
Luckily, Dan’s mum is a legend and has agreed to ring these places and check things with them. It’s great having a lovely UK contact to do that so we’re not spending hundreds of dollars on phone bills.
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