Welcome to Australia!

Sorry this is so overdue, but Ivan (my Dell) was in the shop having surgery and I've been busy and blah blah blah excuses excuses. So anyway. I'll do my best to keep you all updated with my life now on a more consistent basis. :)


~THE JOURNEY~
After spending weeks packing, and repacking, and weighing, and repacking, and weighing again, my bags, they were finally ready. I had my two large green suitcases, as well as a smaller black and white one, as checked luggage, and as carry-on items I had my black backpack, my laptop bag(with laptop of course), two paintings in a 4ft tube, and a small shoulder clutch with my passport/camera/phone in it. 

My new life in 5 bags and a tube

 Had to traipse all over SFO to find the plastic-wrap station for my smaller suitcase, but once they were checked the only other hiccup was getting through security, where they confiscated my jar (*brand new jar*) of cookie butter, and the wine corkscrew I forgot to move to my checked bags. Thankfully, they at least let my dad take them home, so they weren't lost for good (just lost from me :( ).

My first flight was a short one to LAX, where I had a 7.5hr layover. I found my gate without any trouble, and the passengers for various flights before mine came and went while I sat there, drinking my coffee, playing with my phone, and reading my book. 

Sent a few last minute farewell text messages with my US phone before boarding, then settled in for the 14hr flight to Brisbane with Qantas. The flight was uneventful. They fed us a few times, I watched a movie or two, and tried to sleep. I was next to a Canadian named William who was moving back to Brisbane to practice law. Nice enough, but too intent on sleeping most of the flight to engage in much conversation with me. And the seat on the other side of me was empty. SO..yeah. A bit boring, but probably the most comfortable 10+ hour flight I've ever been on. Something about Qantas, they just seem to make flying less dreadful.

Leaving San Francisco

Upon arrival in Brisbane I was informed that I needed to collect my checked bags and re-check them in the domestic terminal. There was no charge, as they had already been officially booked through to Melbourne from SF, but apparently their baggage staff can't work out how to move baggage from an international flight to a domestic one. Whatever. All three of my bags had made it, though the small one had a broken handle (which Qantas will be charged for when I take my claim form to the repair place, so not the end of the world). I checked them in, and the woman behind the counter took one look at my painting tube and warned that they might not let me on the plane with it as carry-on, but I assured her that despite all the announcements that no more than *one or two* items of a specific size were allowed on board, no one had said a peep to me about them, so I intended to take the chance. And I was right. They made their announcement as the passengers lined up to board, and I got several funny looks from other passengers (as well as getting chosen for the "random" search at security downstairs beforehand), but waltzed up to the ticket checker as though all I were carrying were a purse, and they scanned my ticket, wished me a good flight, and didn't bat a single eyelash at my clearly excessive amount of carry-on luggage. Mission accomplished.

My final flight to Melbourne? Short, but miserable. Well, the lady next to me was quite interesting to talk to, but the toddler with the disgustingly phlegmy cough across the aisle and the TWO crying babies in the row behind the toddler made me really just want to be done with the flight. Little did I know, the day was FAR from over.

~THE ARRIVAL~
I arrived in Melbourne at 3:30pm to, fortunately, all of my bags being accounted for, but unfortunately, my confirmed airport reception/pick-up nowhere to be found. I called the provided number on my confirmation sheet, they told me I wasn't on the schedule, I told them to hell with their schedule because I was here and someone was supposed to get me, and within 10 minutes a driver was there. :)

He took me straight to my temporary on-campus housing, and after locating the Residential Services office and checking in, he helped me unload my bags from the car and left. I found the RA for my buildings, a nice guy named Andrew, who helped me carry my bags to my room, gave me directions to the nearest store where I could purchase a few essentials and a sim card, and even lent me a towel so I could shower (after two days of traveling, that was a God-send).

The entrance to the common area between a few of the buildings at Chisholm College (my dorm buildings).

The entrance to building 12, where my room was on the 3rd floor...with NO ELEVATOR. Thanks, Residential Services.

 I showered, walked the mile or so to the store, grabbed a sandwich at Subway, then went back to my room and passed out. I. was. exhausted.

I didn't remember to take a picture of my room, but this is exactly the same set-up. Except..without all that stuff and me instead of that guy. And on the 3rd floor. As you can see, it's not really terrible, but there is no fan, just a window to open (and it was very hot that weekend), and to top it off - my ceiling light didn't work (they fixed it the morning I moved out).