Good Morning Australia

I've only just finished unpacking but it's actually been nearly 3 weeks since I woke up in a Melbourne bedroom at lunchtime, a little dazed and confused after a 26 hour journey and a 3 hour nap to get me through Arrival Day. The whole Dubai thing meant I had to land in Melbourne instead of Adelaide, and what better excuse to spend some quality time with my I've-Been-Home-For-7-Weeks boyfriend.

I don't think there's much to say about the journey home. On the plane, I made friends with Newcastle Joe next to me, whom I originally mistook for Irish Joe and then Scottish Joe. Conversation was sparked on account of him reading the same book as I was. Lo and behold, the woman next to him also had it on her lap, so we all discussed whether The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo was a book about tattoos, as Newcastle Joe has suspected. It is not.

I will say that Emirates is a fantastic airline, not least for their pre-flight service, which I've mentioned, but they also have electricity plugs in Economy. Newcastle Joe assured me he's seen it before on other airlines but I sure hadn't, and so I had plenty of laptop juice to get me by when I got sick of the 46,000 movies and TV shows they had. I like to think I appreciate the small things in life.

Being a small and somewhat flexible person, I can usually find some sort of obscure yoga position to sleep in, as is required in Economy. For whatever reason, this position eluded me and I barely managed a few winks before arriving at Melbourne International the following morning. I dragged my things through Customs and smiled at the Customs Officer wearing a Spiderman Mask, a small reminder that although we have some pretty strict immigration and import restrictions, home-grown inappropriateness has still managed to infiltrate every government department.

At the Arrivals Hall, there was a very smiley young man with a self-made haircut and a SwedishWifeFinder.com sign peering eagerly at the crowd. He looked like fun, so I went up to him and asked for a lift into town. He turned out to be Grant, which was convenient because I was staying at Grant's house.

Grant and his family took me in and nursed me back to sanity, which, surprisingly, didn't take too long. I was spoiled rotten and I loved every minute of it. At this point, I think it's good to mention that going straight home to my own house might have been more of a shock to the system. When you go back to your own country after a year away, it's worthwhile going somewhere that isn't your hometown first. That way, things are just different enough to ease you back into comfort and the reverse culture shock is toned down. You can stay in tourist mode a little longer, but now you can read the bus timetable and stop converting the price tags in your head.

Ok, so I was converting Australian prices back to Euros and thinking "Wow, that's cheap!"

So I was back on home soil. It was just enough like home, but still a step away. I wasn't sure if Grant's Mum was saying "graff" or "grarph", but I didn't really mind. I woke up after that first nap and listened to the Magpies warbling outside the window, then lay in the hammock on the back lawn and ate half a box of Barbecue Shapes. It certainly was nice to be there.

Low Cholesterol, Low Fat

I'm getting ready to leave, with a few last minute essential details to cover, such as which meal I would like on my plane flight. I have to hand it to Emirates, their online customer service is great. I've chosen my seats, now for dinner:

Who knew in-flight cuisine gave you CHOICE??!

PS: I love that you can purposely choose a Bland Meal.

Up, up and away

The airplane was playing My Way, initially unrecogniseable as it was a pan-flute rendition but deciphered as we sat on the tarmac awaiting an incoming Qantas flight. I don't feel ready to be here, my French is terrible and I don't have enough money... it just doesn't feel like it's time yet. But here I am, on a 3.30pm flight to Kuala Lumpur with 6 empty seats to my right and now the checkered fields on the Peninsula out the window to my left. It's been a long time coming but nerves and a sense of sadness were enough to curb any outward signs of excitement. I even forgot the trashy gossip magazine I had planned, such was my state of mind.

It was an uneventful flight - possibly the most exciting thing was discovering the horrible pressure in my sinuses had dissapeared, closely followed by the second bag of peanuts I received. Oh, and realising I was on the same flight as the French Tour Down Under team was pretty good too.

Disembarking, I asked a girl who looked my age if she was travelling alone - she replied that she was, and asked if I was headed to Paris. When I said I was, she asked if my name was Kate. As it turns out, Collete (who has then same name as my French teacher) used to work at Cocolat and was told to look out for a girl with short dark hair on her flight. I was just looking for a chat but I ended up with a friend in Paris who is fluent in French.

The 4 hour wait in Kuala Lumpur was easy enough with someone to talk to and pretty soon we were boarding our flight to Paris. With the promise of a later visit, we settled 20 rows apart. I was more than a little excited to discover I had 5 vacant seats to myself, but Collete, on her promised visit, found me less than impressed with the large stranger stretched out on 3 of the seats 10 minutes into the flight. We never spoke, the Comfort Theif and I, but after some awkward moments where our feet touched, we silently reached a compromise re: personal space.