Globechadder

After being on a little blog silence, I am back in Oz for the final leg of my yellow brick journey. As many of you are aware, as my last trip completed, I managed to celebrate a little too hard and neglected my flight back to the States. With great expense and trial, I managed to talk Virgin Blue (airline) into flying me to Sydney, where I would stick out the night and smooth things over with Delta; this is certainly one of those occasions where airline status is a saving grace. Delta is able to schedule me for a flight on the following day, which was very nice since it was only days before Christmas and the next available seat for purchase was three days away (22/12). Now I find myself “stuck” in Sydney for a night.

Knowing that I could not have another late night, I investigated a series of shops hoping that I could find some gifts to buy off the guilt that I was feeling for missing my flight home. Ultimately, I was not able to find anything unique at these particular high-end stores. At the end of my commercial wander, I was reminded of a Christmas event occurring that night in Sydney, which I was very anxious to attend: “Carols in the Domain.” The Domain is the entrance into the Royal Botanical Gardens and I only hope that most of you know what a carol may be. As the event web site states:

“Woolworths Carols in the Domain is Australia’s largest free Christmas concert. Every year tens of thousands of people come together to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, while raising funds for The Salvation Army Oasis Youth Support Network. Those who can’t make it to the Domain can enjoy this spectacular concert live via the Seven Network.”

This really was an amazing spectacle, seeing everyone come together, along with their various sorts of ales and nogs, to sing both traditional and more contemporary tunes of the Holiday. Not that I would ever insinuate favouritism, but my favourite parts of the event were the songs of Josh Groban. Concluding the carols, I digressed back to my hotel for an early night; I was not to dare to miss another flight.

In the end, I was returned home to a very Merry (and white) Christmas where I was able to see many (and long over-due) friends and family.

Excited that I am even able to make a final return to Australia, I am ecstatic that I am able to spend a long awaited 2011 New Year’s Eve at Armin Only (Mirage) in Melbourne. Opting to spend more time in the States, I decided to depart on 29/12, which would receive me into Australia on midday 31/12. Despite my sordid relationship with Murphy’s Law, the journey back down under started smoothly enough: my place was fully cleaned, traffic in Atlanta was calm, and the delayed flights (wintry weather) were returning to normal. After an on time flight to Los Angeles with an exit row, free internet, and several free glasses of wine (and I was not even first class), I would come to know this would be peak of the journey.

The exchange in Los Angeles between flights was brief, but allowed for an on time boarding for the flight to Sydney. Approaching the departure time, it is decided that some passengers will not make the flight and as an international flight, their luggage must be removed from cargo before departure. Learning this news made me very frightful since I already knew of the tight layover in Sydney, which barely provides enough time for even the most experienced traveller. Taking only a short forty-five minutes (yes, this is sarcasm at the greatest), we are finally prepared for pushback and begin towards the jet way before the woman (though, there is really a more appropriate word to call her) in front of me begins igniting her call-button faster than Stalin could execute the Great Purge on his Soviet dissidents. The flight attendant approaches the passenger inflicted light show with caution, like an epileptic playing a video game at rave, to learn that the “woman” is ill. She is escorted to the front of the plane and we make our way back to the gateway so that she may be directed off of the flight.

As you may or may not have recently learned, “as an international flight, (her) luggage must be removed from cargo before departure.” Ultimately, the entire sequence of events takes approximately two hours, putting me at risk to even make a second later flight to Melbourne once I arrive in Sydney. With a planned arrival eight hours prior to my New Year’s event, it “was” a goal of mine to locate provisions and partake in a short slumber before making my way out for the evening; I had let go of this dream by now.

Fortunately, this was the greatest hiccup in the travel itinerary and we made up a few minutes of flight time as we arrive in Sydney. Some could say that I was rude, rather I submit that people who love a calm stroll through airports need to take a memo and move to one side of the aisle; I swiftly move people from my path as I rush to and through Customs. I arrived to a large line, though it was nothing in comparison to the line’s mass as I received my stamps. I finally pass through to the next airline to catch a later flight to Melbourne and arrive with six hours to rest, eat (and drink), shower, and dress for the party of a lifetime, Mirage.

I arrived at Etihad Stadium at 21:00 for an outrageous event. This was a massive event with great music and song. For those of you who know my love of trance know that this was the most appropriate way for me to tear through the threshold of the New Year. Unlike most performances, Armin Only is an all-night event featuring a solo performance by Armin van Buuren. The event consists of trance music (Mirage is also partly supported by orchestra), lights, laser and firework shows and supporting live acts of vocalists. Dancing through the night and into the next morning, the party completed at 06:00 New Year’s Day. Excited and still a bit excited, I wind down and prepare for a deep sleep.