Touchdown in a Land Down Under

Although I feared the worst from this FOURTEEN and a HALF hour flight, it seems that, despite being lost in the universe for a few hours, I am here.

From Boston to LAX, there wasn’t much excitement—except that it was my first time trying the American version of my trusty Sir Richard Branson’s line of aerial toys. For my first solo trip across the Atlantic, I took V.A, and felt like I was swimming in a paradise of friendly service, peppy Brits, and of course, those gorgeous red coats. Tea? Yes, Please! Towel? For sure! A bit of wine to help you sleep? Now, you’re speaking my language!

But, this time was a bit different, as are all things translated from the Brits to the Yanks. This plane was more like a space ship, complete with soothing purple and blue lights on the inside to ensure privacy, but also made me feel a bit like I was in one of those sleeping eggs whilst travelling to space. Even the seats were quite elaborate, as I wiggled around in an airplane seat that is nicer than my apartment furniture, and had outlets at my disposal. This was high-tech, American style. All that was missing was the tubes of liquid space food.

As I sailed through that six hour journey, I got bits and bobs of research done, and made a decent dent in Bryson’s In A Sunburned Country. Mind you, I admire Bill for all of his witticisms, smart quips and the ability to put his finger on cultural quirks. However, I would LOVE to take a red pen to some of his tangents. One description of how the Harbour Bridge made you feel may not be enough, but I think with a little editing, Bryson would run slightly smoother. However, he is my survival guide as an Ameri-Brit who travels and delights in the Land of Down Under, so I should just keep my mouth shut.

With all of these hours to kill, I did a bit of research on the country itself—and mostly I’ve just come up with the fact that we, the students of this study abroad semester, are not so different than the original Australian settlers. Sure, we may not be criminals (most were taken for petty crimes, anyway), but we are similarly, a rowdy group of foreigners who are about to embark on a huge, unknown land, and we’re just waiting to see what happens. In essence, this 747 airplane (with an upstairs, mind you), is somewhat of a parallel to the HMS Endeavor, lead by Captain James Cook (complete with turbulence—now known to me as “airsickness”). Maybe more accurately, we are like the First Fleet that landed on Botany Bay in 1770, with the first round of new rambunctious residents.

In truth, we are about to embark onto soil never touched by our feet before, and we shall breathe the air of the other side of the world. Here, seasons are backward, time is almost impossible to tell for us, or manage, and the names of places we know from home look very different on this side. We shall endeavor to find our places Down Under, soak up a little sunshine, and hopefully, learn a thing or two about a culture that started out from slew of outcasts, and grew to a great society to be botanists, scientists, writers, actors, politicians, and surfers. We share a history of starting as pilgrims and ending as pioneers, and for that, our camaraderie shall be solidified forever.

Here’s to us, and our endeavors in this new, shiny, open Wonderful Land of Oz. May we learn about who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going, and discover the treats, trails, and treasures that make up the truly incredible country of Australia.

Cheers,

xx

C.