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| DHC-3 Turbo Otter C-FODQ flight over Red Lake, Ontario |
This is my very first update since moving from Red Lake back to Guelph, and packing once more for a journey which (first time around) was the main reason for starting my blog: I'm temporarily relocating to Brisbane once more.
It was a hectic 2 weeks just before my flight to Brisbane. Getting my stuff home from Red Lake happened in 2 separate flights, but all was sorted. Good-byes were said, and as always, practice does not prove to make these easier. I have a lifetime worthy of greetings and good-byes, and it still makes my heart ache every time. Regardless how little or a lot I have stayed in one place.
I only had a week in Guelph to get as much time in with my parents as one could. Going to Brisbane is a special trip. Leaving my parents never seemed so difficult before, as it was on June 5th, 2012. Mom and I shared a bed each night during this week because my room was flooded with my stuff I brought back with me from Red Lake (this is also possibly one of the most nostalgic moments from when we used to live in a studio apartment or a bedroom in Budapest, and we had to share one bed.) Our current house in Guelph has 5 bedrooms, but regardless of the number, my comfort still lies in having mom near by.
Dad was also happy to have me home but he was thinking it was too short for some of his plans. We were planning to finish the basement renos together, and since planning takes time, I didn't get to help much when it came down to the physical labor. However, working with Dad, I learnt how to put up a new ceiling using one of those cool ceiling lifter/fixers. Pretty neat if you ask me. This was all only a month ago and I'm having trouble recalling our final week together. I managed to fit in a few visits with my brother and sister-in-law and of course my little nephew, before my departure. My great family and wonderful friends, I leave behind once more as I head off to a (this time) known land but with a very different agenda.
Intermission:
A story of Renata's flight to Brisbane
I can recall pretty much every flight I have experienced, thanks to the power of emotions, which are invested during a chain of actions/reactions, and with it creating memories. So let me share with you one of these stories, taking you from YYZ to BNE.
Let's start by saying, one check-in luggage when relocating countries is not a fair amendment by the airline I was flying with (anonymous because there aren't many to choose from where I come from). Wanting to avoid flying through the US of A, should give you a hint on the flight company forcing me to fit my entire life into ONE checked-in suit case. So, as a true Romanian born, Hungarian, raised in Canada, I had 4, I repeat, FOUR carry-ons. Air Canada got nothing on this woman ! Oops. Said too much again.
To be fair, I had:
1) my laptop bag (which is a school backpack),
2) my 60L backpack only filled to make it look small
3) my purse which is a side bag
4) a shopping recycle bag with books
So, I repeat, to be fair, I have always traveled with a few carry-on bags, and every time I was told, "those filled with books and papers are not a threat to any nation. They may come as extra carry-on and we won't make a fuss". I'm quoting myself, but you get the picture. Never been heckled for my 'ways' of travel.
The day was June 5th, 2012. Flight #, I can't remember, but I was on it, and I had one check-in bag, and FOUR carry-ons. Going through YYZ security was a joke. No one even blinked at me. Arriving in Vancouver brought a few extra giggles among the flight attendants when they saw me boarding. Some asked if I was planning for motherhood, and others pointed out that if I happen to fall, (having a bag at the front, on my back, and each side) it will protect me, and even bounce back from the ground.
Arrived to Sydney airport with all my gear, all my bags were in tact. Then comes Sydney security. Disregarding my FOUR carry-ons, but they do find a 10, I repeat, TEN CENTIMETER long pair of scissors. I immediately tell the guy, "Sir, I have been flying almost every 2 weeks, I am not smart enough to try and smuggle scissors across in my carry-on bag(s)", being too assure of something I was going to be proven so wrong. He checks once more and asks me kindly to pull out a small case, my pencil case, and sure enough, there is was, my scissors from home. My mouth dropped, I froze, and what does one say (after just speaking words of sarcasm): I'm so sorry about this and please take those away, I won't need them on my last 1 hour flight to Brisbane. He smiled and wished me a nice flight.
Why is it that every time I have a run in with security (this is a whole other story on its own), the guy has to be young and handsome ???
So I went with my FOUR carry-on bags, to my last flight, and as I was the last to board the plane, I was stopped and asked to get rid of one of my carry-on bags. A flight attendant ran downstairs to have my bag loaded on this same flight. In just under an hour, on June 7th, I was landing on a humid day in Brisbane, as Dan awaited for me with open arms at the luggage collection. Can you guess what were his first words to me?
"How many carry-on bags you got there ?" - and then we hugged.
And just like that we were off to Noosa for the weekend.
(Brisbane Update to be continued...)
