Having saved up money and packed my bags, I was ready to soar off into the world. I was of course a little nervous, and ironically didn’t yet feel ready to leave, even though I’d been dreaming of doing this for so long. It’s funny, the tricks your mind will play on you in attempt to keep you in comfortable, complacent surroundings.
I boarded my first flight from Toronto to Vancouver. It was a 4.5-hour flight followed by a 2-hour layover at the airport. Then I boarded the long, brutal flight from Vancouver to Syndney which was 15 hours. Luckily, I felt relatively comfortable for most of the flight, there wasn’t a single time I felt a desperate urge for the flight to be over. But, unfortunately I also didn’t sleep much on the plane although I took my double dose of sleepy gravol that I reserve for long flights like these. This time around, I only managed to get 4 hours of sleep, which left me with having to preoccupy myself for the remaining 11 hours. But, I got through it, bit by bit.
My seat neighbours were a friendly couple who’d been living in Canada for the last 4 years, but they’re originally from India and lived in Mumbai and New Delhi for several decades. We got talking, and after hearing that I was planning on travelling through Asia, they urged me to visit India, hailing the friendliness of the people and the beauty of the country. I assured them that India was definitely on my list, to which they offered to arrange for their acquaintances in those places to show me around if that was something I’d be interested in. I thought that was really cool! I hadn’t even landed in my first destination and already simply by having an open mind resulted in my first little trail of spontaneity. We’ll see if it ends up happening, but either way, my decision to surrender and be open to spontaneity throughout my travels has already begun.
We landed in Syndney at around 8:30am. I had around 2.5 hours to get to my third, and final, flight. I felt like a zombie coming out of that plane – simply existing. I grabbed my checked bag, made it through customs in good time, and then waited in a lengthy line for the shuttle bus to get to the domestic terminal.
Once over to the other terminal, I re-checked my bag, headed through security seamlessly (the Australian airport security is so much better than anywhere else I’ve been to!), and then found my gate after grabbing my first delicious Australian coffee! It was sooo good.
While sitting in the airport, it still felt surreal that I was even in Australia, on the other side of the planet. Hints of differences like people walking on the left side instead of the right, the different toilet style in the bathroom, and overhearing the twang of the nasally Australian accent from the people wandering around me, were reality checks that started tugging on the fringes of my spatial perception and began enlightening a spark of excitement into my sleep deprived brain.
It wasn’t until I was sitting on that domestic flight – the last and shortest of the three – that it finally started truly sinking in. I looked out the window to the Syndney city scape and the beautiful beach addled coastline as the plane took off headed to Melbourne. Oh my gosh… I’m actually here! I’m on the other side of the world, in Australia!
I started to get really excited, ready for the waves of adventure to being. As reality settles, it’s a realization that I’m finally in the idea, the adventure, I’d been obsessed about for years. I’m actually doing it, living it out… and that’s a cool thought to have.
It’s funny, before heading off, I go through a phase of thinking about it, mulling it over and over, then I make a move by booking a flight. Then I preoccupy myself with getting ready, prepping whatever I need, but not actually really thinking about it. Then I start getting a bit nervous, and thinking, ‘Is this dumb? Do I really want to do this?’. Then I get to the airport, I’m just focused in the present, getting from A to B. It usually isn’t until I’m actually at my destination that I realize, whoa okay, here we go!
Flying in a plane on the way to a new destination is like moulting. You shed your regular self, bound by your own limitations and those set upon you by others, and it’s replaced with a free, undefined ego, the one with no precursor or predecessor. Prepared to be shaped and molded by the new culture, surroundings, and people. It’s necessary to leave home in order to grow. If I remained home, I’d remain stuck in my old, outdated self. I must keep moving, keep learning, keep experiencing, keep growing.
