The Gauntlet

Trip Start Nov 20, 2006
Trip End Apr 10, 2009

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Flag of Australia  ,
Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Dear Paula (my travel agent), I was wondering if there was anything I had to take care of or any last minute details to iron out beofre flying to the other side of the planet tommorow.

Dear Jordan, You don't have a travel visa, I don't think you can get one, your screwed.

Dear Paula, Oh neat, let me tell Celina so she can take me to the hospital for this heart attack.

Dear Jordan, if you do this, this, this and this and all these random strangers strung out through the Aussie high commision and some other government agencies manage to do their job and aren't hungover or in a lazy mood today you might get a visa by the time your leaving Los Angeles.  If you don't get one your screwed. They won't let you into Australia. Sucker.

Dear Paula, OK, I think I'm gonna cry from pure stress but thats fine. In fact, thats goddamn sexy. I thrive on complete terror. Weird, for some reason I thought this was dealt with weeks ago. I'm such an asshole, making assumptions.

I love not knowing if I'll be let into the country I'm flying around the world to go to. It makes it so excited wondering if a customs agent is gonna fly up into my face like some bastard jack-in-the-box with  some piece of paper that says " So Solly Cholly you must stay in Singapore sucker, if they let you". 
At this point I hoped for the best and Celina and I began wading throught the quagmire of barely sentient beings they staff airports with. True dullards of the lowest calibre with twitching faces and ego's sized to match their office ass. I really needed the extra hassle they seem to always make inevitable. I ended up finding out I had a visa when I was 20 min from leaving Vancouver.  Having even got to Vancouver seemed a bit of a miracle after the completely clueless woman at the terminal in Calgary told me she didn't think I could get on the plane because of my lack of an Aussie Visa...I tried to explain to her my situation but she couldn't hear me over her face twitching and finally waved me onto my flight with a confused and slightly angry look on her face.  Why my Ausralian visa situation had anyhting to do with a domestic flight in Canada will haunt me forever.  How much do they know? When will they come for me? Will I have clean underwear on?

Everything went pretty smoothly after this. Except  for the impressively slow witted woman who wouldn't put my spear gun on the baggage conveyor because it was !A Gun!. I spent about 20 min explaing to her how not dangerous a speargun in a PVC pipe is when its in the belly of a plane.
She says,
"But sir it's a Gun. 9/11"

"No, it isn't, it's for fishing."

"But it has a Handle and Trigger, so it's a Gun 9/11, 9/11"

"Well self cleaning ice cream scoops have handle's and triggers but they're not terribly threatening, are they now. There hasn't been an ice cream terror attack for years."

"9/11 sir 9/11"

"Yes I suppose thats true, good point. Here's a cookie."

"Ok sir, 9/11, I phoned someone with concious thought, they said its safe, 9/11."

"Excellent, I feel so dangerous."

Then things got going smoothly.  Literally, I had the worst case of drop-ass of my life and while Singapore Airlines has some truly good food it didnt help.  All Praise Be to Pepto Bismol. The actual airlines were running smoothly though, which means we werent dealing with Air Canada anymore.  Easily the worst airline in the world. Assholes.  Of course they lost my bag.  I know it's hard to read those huge freaking letters on the baggage tag but Effrum the Baggage Humper Monkey managed to get my bag onto another flight so it only took 20 hours longer than me to get to Perth.  I had a great sleep on the bench in the terminal though.  Only half the people there stunk as bad as Ol' Traveling Me.  By this time we had been traveling for about 60 hours straight.  I hate connecting flights.  One thing I learned that was interesting was that the woman at the counter doing customer service controls traffic all over the city. An asian man that missed his flight because of bad traffic was screaming at her so I assume it was her fault. Asians are so meticulate, laying the blame right where it belongs.
Our flight to Broome was set to leave at 5 pm...almost there.  

We stepped off the plane at about 8 at night and the temperature was 26 degrees and 90 percent humidity. We'd Been traveling for over 70 hours by this point and freakin stunk. I stunk like sex with animals. Giraffes, Hippo's, Brandon WC, whatever. Stunk. 

Oh shit, I'm not built for this.

We ran over to see if our car had been stolen in its 3 months at the airport, it hadn't but someone had broken in and taken our fishing gear. Whoever did that, "Fuck You", pardon my french.  The battery was dead and we later found out that the alternator had to be replaced as well.  Also it had to be inspected and registered....the list of shit went on and on and our first week here was solid shit dealing with the truck and trying not to get hosed by mechanics and flithy rat bastards beaurocrats. It was strange how everything that could have cost easily over a thousand and a half dollars worked out being fixed for under 400, plus I found 200 dollars on the road right before I found out I had to pay 200 dollars for some truck stuff.  Karma man, Karma.  So later while driving down the road to see about getting the alternator fixed my stupid jerk mouth opens and says 'even all these weird coincidences that seem to be minimalizing our troubles don't make me believe in Karma'.  Instantly as I finished that sentence the truck stopped working. I punched my self in the mouth and started pushing.  Cheers to Broome Mechanics.  They are helpful and tried hard not to screw us, it was amazing. Especailly after having been to Coral Bay where everyone is an asshole or a liar or both. 150 bucks for a battery my ass.

So here we are in the hottest place ever, we've already seen giant turtles nesting, joined a volunteer group to track them and their nests (i'm just lookin for cheap delicously endangered meat) and we saw a dead dolphin too. Take that Hippies. Oh also I sold our 4x4 today for 1300 more than what we payed...haha who's a sucker now!  I might cry when they drive my lovely Pajero away from me, but at least I'll have a good excuse to rent a scooter then. All praise to the Pajero. Long live the Pajero. May you live forever on beaches and sand tracks of my heart.

I really liked that truck.

Hopefully we get something as good in New Zealand.
Next Stop Christchurch NZ.
Oh yeah and fuck you again fishing gear thieves. May your eyes be pecked out by the dandies that worked at Mountain Equipment Co-Op. And I think you know how they do their pecking.
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