Day 8

Friday, April 8, 2011
Denver, Colorado – Los Angeles, California – Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

The Walkabout Begins

I rose early at Sir Guy’s house, the weight of departure settling into the morning air. Sir Guy kindly prepared breakfast while I gathered my gear for the long journey ahead. My packs sat ready, each one carefully organized for the adventure that now stood before me. This was no longer preparation. This was a departure.

Sir Rockbear soon awoke and helped me load up for the drive to the Denver Air Dragon court. There was something ceremonial about the moment. The ride felt quiet but meaningful. We both knew this was more than a simple airport drop-off. This was the beginning of a true walkabout.

At the airport, security went smoothly. Once again, I noticed travelers ahead of me being directed into the full-body scanners. Yet somehow, once again, I passed through without being selected. This marked the eighth flight since their implementation that I had avoided the scanner. I found myself quietly amused and curious about how long that streak would last. I remained uncertain about the technology itself. The idea of such invasive screening made me uncomfortable, yet I knew it had become part of modern travel. For now, I slipped through once again.

The Air Dragon to Los Angeles was small and crowded. Not particularly comfortable, but manageable. My Osprey pack and satchel fit fine as carry-on, while my larger backpack was checked through. Soon enough, we lifted into the sky and headed westward.

A few hours later, I touched down in the City of Lost Angels.

Los Angeles.

My layover was scheduled for six hours, and waiting for me were my brother, the Mad Doctor Mangor, and Lady Tara. Traffic delayed them somewhat, cutting into our already limited time together, but soon enough, we were reunited and off toward the coast.

We headed to the beach first.

The ocean air greeted us with a refreshing breeze. Waves rolled in steadily, and for a brief moment, I stood between two worlds. Behind me lay the familiar lands of North America. Ahead, across the vast Pacific, awaited Australia.

The walkabout was becoming real.

After the beach, we stopped at a Brazilian café where we shared shrimp and pasta, fried yucca, and flan. Good food, laughter, and catching up filled the short window of time we had together. It was one of those fleeting but meaningful reunions that stay with you long after the journey continues.

Soon, it was time to return to LAX.

The airport was extremely congested. I struggled to find a place to sit, let alone somewhere to plug in my laptop. Eventually, I settled into a chair and worked until my battery drained to about seven percent. It was not ideal, but travel rarely is.

When boarding began, I noticed Qantas agents appearing to weigh carry-on luggage. I quickly redistributed weight between my satchel and Osprey pack, concerned my gear might exceed limits. In the end, it seemed more performative than enforced. My frantic rearranging proved unnecessary.

Soon, I boarded the Qantas Air Dragon bound for Brisbane.

There were delays on the tarmac as the airline accounted for a missing passenger and finalized preparations for the long journey ahead. Eventually, we were handed customs cards and comfort kits. Inside were eye patches, the smallest toothbrush and toothpaste I had ever seen, and headphones for the onboard iQ entertainment system.

Just before midnight on Friday, April 8, 2011, the engines roared, and we lifted into the dark skies above Los Angeles.

My walkabout had officially begun.

Shortly after takeoff, supper was served.

Tomato, bocconcini, and cucumber salad with balsamic vinaigrette.
Seared mahi mahi with honey glaze, steamed rice, and greens.
Key lime pie.
Cheese and biscuits.
Tea, water, and hot chocolate.

It was surprisingly delicious.

After dinner, I watched True Grit and soon drifted into sleep as the aircraft crossed the vast Pacific.

Sometime in the early hours, I awoke and received a snack bag containing water, chocolates, potato sticks, and a cappuccino biscuit. Throughout the journey, I sipped rum and Coke, tea, and water, occasionally nibbling an apple as the hours stretched on.

I watched Tron, The Tourist, and Hereafter as the journey continued across time zones and oceans.

Eventually, breakfast was served.

Orange juice.
Cantaloupe and pineapple.
Raisin muffin and yoghurt.
Scrambled eggs on a toasted muffin with sausage, mushrooms, and sautéed spinach.
Tea and water.

By 6:30 AM Australian time, a day and a half later, we began our descent.

The coastline appeared below.

Australia.

The southern continent.

The land of the bush.

The walkabout.

Moments later, we touched down at Brisbane International Airport.

After a long journey across the Pacific, I had arrived.

As I stepped into the terminal, I noticed a bold sign welcoming visitors.

“Brisbane Has Balls.”

I smiled.

Australia already felt like an adventure.

[ April 7, 2011: Farewell as Curator ] [ Home ] [ Day 9: Brisbane ]