Sydney: Sunday, Sunday

Sunday morning I left to head home. But it would be 27 hours before I'd finally get there (and still a Sunday; gotta love that time change). Navigating the Sydney airport wasn't too bad, even the part where an unattractive customs security agent named Mick thoroughly searched me and my bags. And on the flight to LA I watched six movies.


But it was when I landed at LAX that things went awry. You should know me well enough by now to know that something almost always goes wrong when I fly. This time, my connecting flight from Los Angeles to Salt Lake was cancelled. Don't ask me why; when I asked them why, they wouldn't tell me. So I started figuring out how to get home. I finally found a Delta flight with an available seat, got it booked, and waited. And waited. I waited until they announced that the flight was delayed. Then I waited some more. And then they announced that the flight was delayed even more. So I waited even more. To make a very long story short, my flight out of LAX finally took off around 4:00 pm (my flight from Sydney to LAX had arrived at 7:00 am). When I landed in Salt Lake, I was obviously very tired, but very happy to be home. I was also very grateful for the chance I had to go to Sydney again this year. Such a great place.