July 3rd

Sunday, Airport day. The day we leave Sydney, and the day we land before we take off. Ariel wakes me and says we slept in, and we'll probably only have an hour or so to do stuff in Sydney. She brings me a small instant coffee which I empty in a single gulp.

We packed almost everything last night, so we put away the laptops, zip out luggage shut, put all the 'convenience' stuff back in the fridge, I put the 2 hot sauce bottles in my in my check-in bag, and I go up with Henry to the car to put the first load in the trunk.  Henry checks for skinks or emus or any suprise Australian wildlife that we can find. He's not picky. 

We put the first suitcases in the car, and I go to main office to get the paperwork started for checkout. There are two charges for internet access, which I am expecting. Did we use anything from the mini-bar? No.  I need Ariel's credit card to complete the transaction. I'll be right back with that. I meet Henry back at the car, and Henry reports that the skink has finally wisened up (or been collected by another resident). The other two boys meet us at the car, and we try to figure out how we'd managed to get all the suitcases to fit in the trunk on the drive down.  Ariel comes up the path, we pay for our room, and hit the road.  The day is sunner and warmer than any other day this entire trip.

The plan is to take the Harbor Bridge into Sydney and stop at "The Oak Barrel" on Elizabeth St, where I can pick up a bottle of Australian whisky, as requested by my friend Steve from work. Ariel reads the map.  It is bright outside, and I have a few more hours of sleep in me, so we successfully navigate onto the bridge and soon turn in to the city.  

As soon as we exit the expressway, there arises doubt as to which direction we are headed. I read aloud street names as we pass them, and Ariel tries to find them on the map.  When she does get bearings and tells me what direction to go, I go the opposite direction, instinctually feeling that it's right.  She throws up her hands and says 'see, that's why your so hard to navigate with, you don't follow directions.' I agree, I must be frustrating as hell to navigate for.  Despite our curious navigation system, we miraculously arrive at Elizabeth St. and find a place to park near the south end of Hyde park. Ariel asks if I know the address, I say 'yes'.  We walk North to where I think the bottle shop should be, but it's not there. We go another block and I start getting nervous. We go a third block and Ariel asks what the address is. I concede that I don't know the EXACT address, but I looked at it on Google maps back in Hayward, and I looked at the storefront using Google's "street view" and I'm absolutely certain that we're close. 

We find a Starbucks, and pop in for coffee, breakfast and directions.  While waiting for our order, I ask the barristas if they've heard of the "Oak Barrel", no one has heard of it.  I mention that it's a bottle shop, and watch their expressions change to one of recognition as one says "Oh, the bottle shop!!!", and they all point down the street, back the way we'd come. It's by the museum entrance...  We must have walked right past it.

 We head back to the car, slowly re-checking all the store fronts.  Most are closed on Sundays.  After traveling the full three blocks back to the car, I look across the street and see the shop. We parked in front of it.

We cross the street, and discover that it's closed. I look helplessly through the window and Ariel takes a picture to prove that at least we tried.  We now have about an hour left before we have to head to the airport, so I pull out the map and see how far we are from the Queen Victoria Building.  We're 3 blocks south, and 3 blocks east. We decide walking is more efficient than finding another parking spot, and we could definitely stand to stretch our legs before the 13 hour trip home.  So, at 11:00AM on our last day in Sydney, we walk back up the same three blocks for the third time.  We turn on to King St., and pass a pair of open bottle shop/bars. I vow to check them both on the return to the car.   We get to the QVB, and there is a man outside making a giant chalk mural. There is also a monument nearby with a life-size bronze statue of some sort of terrier. A recording emenates from the monument in a deep booming voice, "I am the friend and companion of Queen Elizabeth..." It is a talking monument to Queen Elizabeths dog. Puzzled as to how he keeps from going insane listening to this all day, I look at the artist, and he holds up a pair of head phones and smiles. Ariel hands Henry some change and has him put the money into the coin jars the man has set up at the four corners of his masterpiece, the man is earning it the hard way.

We ascend the escalators to the top floor, and dip into one of the first shops on the right side. There is a backpack there which looks very tough and rustic. The label on it says "Kakadu Packs", and it explains that the bag is made in Australia with only the finest quality materials. I consider buying it (for $99, marked down from $199) but I don't really need another backpack, and the straps look really hard to get open quickly.  Ariel says she's going to check out the paper store next door for souviners, I mumble something like, "ok, we'll meet up when we're done."  I look at wallets briefly, since mine has started to fall apart on the trip, but I don't really want a crocodile or kangaroo skin wallet, and nothing else really looks durable. I return to the rustic backpack,and undo the straps to check out the construction quality inside. In the seam, I notice a tiny label that reads "Made in China."  Everything in the store immediately ceases to be interesting, and I head out. The boys are mulling about near the top of the escalators looking unbearably bored. Henry runs over to show me a picture he took of the stained glass window nearby. It's a nice shot. 

I go in to see what is taking Ariel so long, and she meets me in the doorway, and asks what is taking us so long. Turns out, she had thought we were meeting her in the paper store. Back in one group, we continue along the length of the QVB, but all the shops are just variations on high-end clothing, jewelry or art stores. Nothing appeals, and we're quickly running out of time, so we head back along the opposite side of the building, looking for the down escalators.  Apparently the Queen didn't approve of down escalators because we couldn't find any. 

We take the stairs down, exit the way we came in, and pass the chalk artists who is now hard at work, working happily with his headphones on.  We stop at the crosswalk under a giant statue of Queen Victoria.  When the light turns to 'walk' everyone starts walking every which way through the intersection. I'd forgotten that in Sydney, when the cars stop, some intersection become a pedestrian free-for-all.  I run to the middle to take a 360 panoramic shot, but the camera is set wrong, and is moving a little slow, so when the panoramic is complete, I'm alone in the intersection, and the light is green. I retreat before anyone has time to honk, and we head to the first 'bottle shop' on the way back.  I enter, and ask about getting a bottle of fine Australian Whisky.  A gruff bald gentleman with bad teeth replies 'Sorry, we import all our whiskies from Scotland'.  Strike one. I move to the next pub/bottle shop. The young woman behind the bar says she doesn't think so, but goes in the back to ask her manager. A young well dressed man comes out, and I inform him that we're on our way to the airport in 10 minutes, and my friend back in the States needs a bottle of Australian whisky for his whisky club.  He looks over his collection in the window, and confirms that indeed they don't have anything resembling Australian Whisky, and at this point, my best bet was to try the duty-free shops at the airport. Strike two, with a possible lead.

We get to the car and I drive surface streets roughly south towards the airport. Ariel tries navigating for me, but I quickly pass the edge of the map, so we're flying blind. We pass 'Doody St.', and the boys giggle like school girls.  Henry tries to get a picture, but we're throught the intersection before he can get a shot.  We find a major looking street and head south hoping for the best.  We eventually hit Reiordan Street which takes us to a last-stop gas station that we'd visited almost exactly one week ago. I pump, and Ariel and the boys grab snacks for the long plane ride home.  

I pull into the airport, and we drop off the car at Budget, take an 'it's sad to be leaving Australia' picture under the 'International' sign, and head in to luggage check. We walk to one end of the airport, and then are told that it's on the other end. We are running a little tight, so we all walk quickly through the crowds to the other side of the departures building. We get to the counter, and the woman there explains we all have to fill out forms before we can get checked in. Ariel starts filling out forms. JP anounces that he's found free wi-fi on his Droid. I realize my phone has no charge, so I find an outlet, pull my phone and charger from my luggage, and plug in.  It takes us 15 more minutes to get the luggage checked, and before heading to the terminal, I pull my phone from the charger, only to find that the 'charging' light had not come on. The outlet didn't have power.

The luggage lady instructs us in the direction of Security, and informs us that from there, it's a 25 minute walk to the plane. We have exactly 25 minutes before the plane begins boarding.  We rush to the security line. The line doesn't budge for 5 minutes, but when it finally does, we go through without incident. We weave our way through the obstical course of shops, strategically positioned to keep passengers from getting to their planes without first having to swerve through every display of their duty-free wares.  I find a shop that sells alcohol and ask if they have anything resembling Australian whisky. The gentleman says no, (strike three), but they do have a bottle of Tazmanian whisky. I say I'll take it without asking about price. The gentleman goes into the back for 3 minutes, and I start to get nervous. I ask another attendant how much said bottle of whisky will cost, but the first gentleman returns before he can get me a price. I am relieved to see that the price is not too outrageous, so I put it on the Amex, and we dash the rest of the way to the plane.  The plane is already boarding, and we are on the plane before anyone has a chance to think about so much as a bathroom break.  We're seated next to Justin, a kinesiology student from Calgary who has spent the last semester at a college near Brisbane. 

The plane takes off quickly, and the captain announces that we have a good tail wind and should land in less than 13 hours. The in-flight entertainment begins and we watch the first movie, a cute, witty New York chick-flick called 'Thank you, more please.' 

I grab the boys' camera and transfer all the images to my desktop. I've only selectively been copying the best ones for the web, but Ariel wants me to burn a CD when we get back.  The engine is loud, so I'm not sure how my 'video interview with the boys' idea is going to work.  I'm thinking maybe it would be best to do it at the 4th of July picnic tomorrow. I think I'll try to get some sleep now, and we'll all find out how the story ends in a few hours.

How the story Ends:

The plane lands, I say fare-well to Justin (who has another 5 hour flight to Canada ahead of him.)  Ariel says she can't imagine a worse flying experience.  Ariel and JP have been feeling claustrophobic the whole trip, and are dying for a cigarette. Stiffly we exit the plane and JP sends Rebecca a text message that we are back onto American soil, or at least boarding-tube carpet.

We walk to the customs line, and a cheery Philipino officer asks us if we are bringing anything alive or dangerous into the country. We say no, and he takes our word for it.  No food sniffing beagles, no bomb or drug checks, just a short walk to the luggage carousel to pick up our luggage and were done.

After 10 minutes, my luggage pops out onto the carousel, and I joke with William that it's a lonely feeling waiting for your luggage to arrive.  Half an hour later, the carousel shuts down.  I ask a guy in a yellow vest where the rest of our luggage is, and he says that was all there is, and to go to the claims window to figure out what happened.  After another half an hour the claims-desk attendant confirms that our other four bags never left Sydney. Ariel fills out a form, and they promise to call us if anything shows up.  Exasperated, we head out the final doors to meet Rebecca and Rachel.  We step outside where the smokers can find relief, and after a brief debriefing, to make sure all the boys are in fact home safe and in one piece, we split off to our respective homes to get some decent sleep. We can all re-convene tomorrow over pulled-pork and fireworks.