Welcome to Oz, where the local time is tomorrow

After 17 hours spent in the air and a 6 hour layover in Los Angeles, I finally set foot in the southern hemisphere. I'm getting too far ahead of myself. You're going to read this from the beginning and you're going to like it.

The journey began at Calgary International airport when I waved goodbye to my parents and stepped through the frosted doors which reminded you that you were no longer on Canadian soil, but instead U.S. soil. Welcome to the beginning of a torture practice which we know as customs. It's kind of like a gross-out horror movie. The beginning isn't too bad, but you know they are saving the best of the worst for last.

My first leg of the journey was a 3 hour flight down to L.A. It was a very disappointing flight. The Stewards really didn't seem to give a rats ass. They show up once to do their little dance display which is supposed to teach us how to stay safe in an emergency, and if needed they'll take their sweet time grabbing you a drink. Thanks guys, nice hustle. I was even sitting with a guy who all he could do was complain about Air Canada and how they keep losing his luggage. That now placed the same fear on me. I next had a fun run in with an Air Canada agent after arriving in L.A. The captain said that anyone with connecting flights should inquire with the agent to see where it is we go. I placed the obvious question; "Do you know where the Qantas check-in is?" I got a smart ass reply "the international terminal." Well, I suppose the more correct question was "how do I get to the international terminal?" "Go down the escalator and walk for 5 minutes." OK, sounds easy enough. Next question: "Do I have to claim my luggage and re-check it at the Qantas desk?" Agent: "I don't know. If it doesn't show up on the luggage carousal then you know it's been taken to the international terminal already." Helpful once again. I found the escalator... or escalators I should say. There was two... both said baggage claim on them, but they ended up going to different floors. Well how am I supposed to know which one is the correct one? I chose the one which had the most people on it and started walking. I reached the end of the terminal without finding the luggage carousal for my flight. I suppose I followed the wrong herd of people. I decided to play the game of chance and found that I now have to go outside to get to the international terminal.

I reached the Qantas desk and was greeted with 100% better service than I was receiving with Air Canada. Perhaps a sign to come from these delightful Australians? The desk agent took one look at me and offered me an emergency row seat. I turned it down because the emergency row seats in the Air Canada flight were cramped and I opted for an aisle seat so I didn't have to bug anyone anytime I had to get up for the potty. Well, once I saw how large of a space the emergency row has, not only would I have had enough leg room and the ability to get up and not disturb anyone, but there was room left over to park a small car as well. Oops. Next time, I'm listening to the smart lady behind the desk. I then went through the 'death march' which is U.S. customs. They have a security guard per person in line, and none of them say a word. They just prod you when they want you to move forward. Instead of removing metal objects from your pockets, they just want you to remove everything. I was really lucky though, The guy in front of me and lady behind me both had their bags searched. I took this as a sign of good fortune and ran for the gate before they decided to search my bag and ask me stupid questions. I then waited 4 hours for my flight to begin boarding. Lesson learned, I hate LAX.

The flight was still terrific. The plane was outfitted with the seats that had TV screens built into the headrests in front so you could watch TV and Movies and even play some video games. What a time to be alive. My flight went something like this: Watched Hellboy, had supper, went to sleep. Woke up, watched The Punisher, went to sleep, woke up, had breakfast, watched cartoons, got off plane. I was actually surprised to find that I had slept well over half the flight time.

I arrived in Melbourne at about 8am this morning upset that it was now Wednesday and I had lost a day of my life... until I go back across the international date line. Customs was pretty easy, except for the guy who kept looking at my passport trying to figure out if the picture was actually of me. He had a good sense of humour about it though. Now was the moment of truth, did my bag make it or was it lost in the depths of LAX? I believe my bag was actually last to come out, so by this time I was quite worried. I actually spent the entire time picking up bags for little old ladies who kept asking me to grab what was in front of me. I did it for the first lady to be nice, then all the old ladies copied her and put me to work. I had a run in with the cute little sniffing beagle dog. He seemed to take some sort of an interest in my bag and the guard asked me if I had any fruits or vegetables packed. I got off without having to get searched. Now if it was a drug sniffing dog I'd probably be in custody just because the dog liked me. After getting my bags scanned by X-rays for the 4th time I was able to leave the airport and take in my first view of Melbourne.

I got myself on a bus which took me downtown where I got off and started to walk. I didn't stop to think about which direction to go in, or even think about what it was I was looking for. I just started walking. I found a small Internet cafe and checked my email, and sent a note off to my parents to let them know I'm alive and well. At this point I needed to find a way of wasting time until the afternoon. I was planning on staying with my brother while in Melbourne, but I needed to wait until he was done school for the day. This "time wasting" task was not easily accomplished while lugging around a 22kg bag on your back. I decided to track down the department of immigration and get my visa label placed in my passport. With only a simple address and my skill with maps I was able to track down the place in 30 minutes, probably less. The longest part was just walking there. My friends back home would be proud that my navigational skills are still working, even in foreign countries. I then headed off in a random direction again and just walked around looking at stores and buildings. When it was closing in on the time that my brother should be getting off of school, I hopped into a cab and headed off to the University of La Trobe. The cabbie was a really nice guy who took it upon himself to educate me about the big hole in the ozone layer, which happens to be almost right above Australia. I arrived at the University campus in one piece and all the more educated on skin cancer prevention. It did not take long to meet up with my bro and get a chance to meet some of his friends. By 4pm I'm beyond tired, but can't sleep for a bit or else my internal clock will be all messed up.

My upside down adventure was off to an interesting start.