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after the journey Somewhere south of Hawaii at thirty-five thousand feet, I am experiencing Saturday the second of June one more time. Yes, I've just crossed the international dateline. Now having said that little piece of information, fourteen hours on a plane still feels like fourteen hours. Nothing has really changed. Leaving Australia was hard, but I know that I am going back sometime. With any luck I'll be going back this year. As I knew that it would, the trip opened up my world. I was given two whole weeks where almost everything that I saw and did was new. During the time that I was there I wouldn't say that I saw Australia. What I would say is that I saw enough of it to want to see more. Two weeks just wasn't enough time to get a complete picture. While I was gone I managed to write down some of my thoughts. In the beginning the motivation was there. So much so that I filled about eleven pages in the first three days of the trip. Then as the trip moved forward the time for writing seemed to disappear more and more. I want to talk some more about those fourteen hours in the air. From what I was told, I shouldn't complain. Back in the 1930's a flight from Sydney to London took ten days with twenty-nine different stops. Just hearing those figures conjures up the opening scene to Raiders of the Lost Ark where the plane travels across the map. At one time there was a trail to be followed full of strange people and places. Now we pass the time by either watching movies and or sleeping. Somehow that seems a little sad to me. I need to get some sleep and I fear that all of this is coming out wrong. I have yet to mention our brief stop in Los Angeles before my sister and I boarded our final plane back to Chicago. I guess that I just wanted to say that I am back in the States feeling tired yet happy at the same time.
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