In addition to the normal boredom and frustration of a long plane ride to a foreign country, I was somewhat frustrated to find out my bike was still in LA. Customs and Immigration had seemed almost too easy - I figured I was due for a bump. However, the oversized baggage handler was more than affable . Like many things this turned into a blessing is disguise. Those who have traveled with a bike know this well. Having one less awkward object to worry about is not a bad thing considering they will bring my bike to my Hostel. If I had a tight schedule I might have been irritated. But, any irritation I may have had vanished with a call to my Sydney friend Anthony Emmett.
I placed a call on a pay phone; I had not done that in a while.
"How’s it going?" I asked
"Jordan, you’re in Sydney?"
He sounded like he had a late night. It was 7:40 a.m., but you could not tell form the wired masses at the airport that it was that early.
"I knew your lazy ass would still be in bed."
He defended himself – "I’m not in bed; I just sound like it."
We had talked about hanging out over my layover, but had no hard plans.
"I was planning on going fishing with some friends, how does that work with your layover?"
I jumped at the chance. "If I can get back before my flight at 5:50."
And so, I sit 8:15 a.m. local time really hoping I can write about the big one on the flight to Perth, or at least the one that got away.