So this is it. The time has come. I'm homeward bound (suddenly, I feel a Simon & Garfunkel tune coming on), and that means it is time for my final journal entry. I feel kinda pressured to make this entry a truly smashing one -- the entry to end all entries, if you will -- one that is witty, contemplative and philosophical all at once. I doubt whether I'll win the Pulitzer, but I'll give it my best shot!
As I write this, I've just been handed my complimentary bag of peanuts on Air New Zealand flight #18, bound for Los Angeles, CA in the good 'ol US of A. I've become a connoisseur, of sorts, when it comes to in-flight peanuts and I'm sorry to report that my cultured palate finds this particular bagful lacking both in texture (too greasy) and taste (maybe I've just become too biased towards the honey-roasted variety, but these nuts left me wholly unsatisfied). Snack snobbery aside, I'm starving and gulp the nuts down gluttonously -- scant few calories for my high metabolism, but they should suffice in generating enough energy to continue with this entry.
But enough about my nuts. Moving on . . .
It's hard for me to comprehend all that I've seen and done on my six-and-a-half week South Pacific holiday, much less list everything. As I go back and read snippets of my adventures in Hawaii, Fiji, New Zealand and Australia, I'm awed by the sheer multitude of events and faces contained therein: I've been above the clouds and beneath the waves; I've eaten prawns in a 5-star hotel and goana lizard in the Bush; I've been to Heavenly Paradise (Island) and the Underworld (Jenolan Caves) . . . and I've met interesting people from all corners of the globe while doing it. Throughout it all, I've come to realize how refreshing and expansive it is to leave the narrow confines of my everyday life (pleasant though it is) and expose myself to new experiences and ways of life.
[Note: I'm a bit tired, so I think I'll catch a little cat nap and resume this later.]
Okay, I'm back! Did you miss me? I'd like to start off the second half of this entry by making a confession. I'm an addict . . . addicted to traveling, that is -- to seeing the world, eating new foods, trying new things (even dangerous things), and immersing myself in foreign cultures (in their history, language and customs). I enjoy sharing what I learn with my kindergarten students so that they, too, can gain a broader view of life. I love showing my photos and reading my journal to my friends and family at home so that they can more fully appreciate my globetrotting exploits. Most of all, I passionately embrace the experiences and cherished memories for myself, particularly those I've shared with newfound friends. I have collected dozens of addresses from those I've shared this journey with, and although most of them will never actually see the face of an envelope (as I've learned previously, the responsibilities of daily living have a way of ruining even the best of intentions), some undoubtedly will -- and of those people I do manage to stay in contact with, I'm certain I shall see a select handful sometime in future travels. But even if the worst comes to pass, and I fail to set eyes on any of my travel companions again, I'll assuredly never forget them. In some way, they have all touched me (some more [and lower] than others) and changed me -- adding to the entity I call myself. People are what make my travels so special, memorable and meaningful. Long after the memories of beaches, beers and buxom plantlife have faded, I'll fondly remember passing the cava bowl with my adopted Fijian family, learning to "Cooee!" with Wayne and Murray, discussing the Christian faith with John, traversing the Northern Territory with the Contiki crew and romancing a bevy of beautiful babes (even if much of this last part only took place in my head).
People do indeed make traveling fun. Now if I could only improve my relations with the individuals in my everyday life -- my family -- I'd be truly content. Somehow, I seem to get along better and more intimately with strangers in strange lands than I do with my own father and brother, whom I live with. They deserve more, and I pledge to work harder on my end to give it to them. (Hmm. It seems I've strayed a bit from whatever point it was that I was trying to make, but maybe not.)
My dinner arrived some minutes ago, and it's getting cold, so I'll leave you to your varied thoughts whilst I consume my meal and settle in for the 20 hours of flying that still lay ahead of me (Through an interesting chronological anomaly and a well-timed crossing of the International Date Line, I will actually arrive in the USA before I leave Australia [I left Sydney at 1:30 p.m. on Tuesday, 8/16 and I will arrive in LA at 1:00 p.m. on the same day]. "Holy Worm Hole, Batman!" "Full speed ahead, captain . . . "). I foresee a lot of thumb-twiddling on this flight and the next (from LA to NY) during the looooooooooooooong journey home -- going out with a whimper, it seems. Until next year, then! Keep smiling!!
-- Chris
August 16th, 1994
6:00 p.m.
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