A Very Long Flight

I arrived in Sydney early in the morning of February 16, 1998, following a 14-hour trans-Pacific flight.  It had been about 24 hours since I left my home in Kentucky half a world away.  I lost track of anything more than a vague sense of time, because I changed my watch with each stop in a new time zone.   Even the date had changed, instantly as the airplane crossed the International Date Line for the first time. 

The sleeping pills I brought were annoyingly ineffective and I slept less than two hours the entire trip. 

By the time I arrived at the Sydney airport and lugged my belongings through customs, I was tired, irritable and badly in need of a shower.

And I was alone.

Martin

Martin is a friend of my brother Dan's.   We had   never met when he invited me to stay with him.  He lives near Sydney and had spent some time in the northern Arizona Youth Hostel where Dan once lived and worked.  Martin was responsible for introducing Dan to his fianc�e Rowena.   We spoke on the phone a couple times, but had yet to meet and I had no idea what he looked like.  Martin had agreed to let me stay at his home for a few days and he took the day off work to meet me at the airport and direct me to his house.

I scanned the crowd in the airport terminal.  No one looked like a "Martin".   The crowd thinned out and I searched for anyone who looked like he might be looking for me.  No one did.  I casually walked behind a bystander and quietly said "Uh,... Martin..?"  No one turned. 

Finally, there were only two of us left.  Myself and Martin.  I figured this must be him, so we introduced ourselves and headed through the airport to exchange currency and pick up the rental car. 

A Place of Many Winds

Martin lives with his girlfriend Chris in Berowra, which is northwest of the city.  "Berowra" is an Aboriginal word meaning "Place of Many Winds", which is appropriate because the wind whips through the valley with great force and noise. 

And what a valley it is!  The view from their back deck is breathtaking.  The Blue Mountains rise up miles in the distance across a great wooded lowland.  Chris leaves seeds out on the deck and birds decked in brilliant plumage swarm to the back of the house.

Martin and I took a drive around the hills and lakes near his home and stopped for fish and chips at a small dockside cafe in Brooklyn. 

After lunch, we returned to their house where I passed out from exhaustion, hoping to get my clock reversed.

In the evening, I awoke from a dreamless sleep and Chris, Martin and I stayed up talking and grilling out on the "barbie".