People Die in This Weather

Today was a hot one--42 C or 108 F! We were warned upon starting orientation today that "people die in this weather." Awesome because knowing my luck, it will be me. I just tried to stay out of the sun, wore my hat when I was in the sun, and drank loads of water.

We were also told to wear "sun cream" and not to worry about tanning because the sun will burn right through it, what with Australia being right under the hole in the Ozone Layer. Oh yay, one more thing that can kill you...eventually.

I did survive, though, and without a sunburn, so that's a plus.

Disorientation on Entering Sydney

Arrival in Sydney was a big CF. Everyone rushed to the nearest bathroom, like is usual after a long flight. There were four stalls in the one I entered, but someone was sick in one stall, so we were down to three. I wanted to go before getting my backpack because that’s one less thing to stuff into the stall.

Immigration is always busy, with everyone trying to get his passport stamped first. As usual, they had separate lines for citizens and foreigners, but there were signs pointing in opposite directions indicating where foreigners should go. I went where the permanent sign pointed so was in the right place. Then I had to wait for my luggage, and with a double-decker plane containing 88 rows, there’s a lot of luggage.

Once I finally got my backpack (for whatever reason, my luggage is almost always toward the end), I hoisted it onto my back and turned toward customs. Oh. My. God. The number of people trying to get through was atrocious. There were two lines merging into one, and by lines, I mean large blobs of people. I decided to take the airport up on a free cart. At least my blob was the smaller of the two, so I may have gotten through a little easier.

Fun fact: You’re not allowed to bring food of any kind into Australia. They tell you on the plane that no food is allowed, including food you receive on the plane. There are quarantine bins throughout the terminal. Most countries don’t want you bringing fruit, vegetables, or seeds in, but I’ve never heard of confiscating mints and granola bars.

I marked on the customs form that I had no food, left my trail mix on the plane, and crossed my fingers that they wouldn’t search my bag and find the chocolate bar because I read that they search everyone regardless of what you mark on the form. Apparently, I don’t look like a food terrorist, so they let me through without checking my bags.

Once through customs, I walked out to freedom. Work and Travel Company, whose program I’m using, had indicated my program included airport pick-up, so I was expecting to see a driver with my name on a sign. No such luck. By now, it had been over an hour since the plane landed, so there was no way the driver was that late.

I turned on my phone to see if I had a message. Nope. I tried to jump on the airport’s wireless to get the phone number because I had forgotten to put it in my phone before I left, but there wasn’t much of a signal and they were asking for my email address to “keep in touch with me” (aka send me spam), so I asked Airport Help. He said there was another exit and to check there. Nope.

I was fed up, so I just got a taxi. I hopped in the back and closed the door before remembering that Australians sit in the front seat of taxis because of “egalitarianism.” Oh well, too late.