Entry 77: India Bound

I'm the type of guy who likes to get to the airport way before his flight leaves. I often get anxious before I fly anywhere, not because of the flight itself, once I'm on the plane I relax, but because of the getting on the plane part -- going to the airport, waiting in line, checking in luggage, going through security, finding space in the overhead bins. That whole process stresses me out, and I find that giving myself plenty of time to do everything helps alleviate the anxiety. Plus, if you have to sit in a TGIFridays at the airport for an hour, have a beer, and read a book, or goof around on your phone (or iPad or laptop or whatever), is that really that much less exciting than what you'd be doing at home? Probably not.

[A hilarious bit by Louis CK on flying.]

With that said, I took things a little too far, when I arrived at the Sydney airport before the check-in counter for my flight opened. But, it gave me a chance to buy my nephews some "authentic" Australian boomerangs. The international terminal of every airport is basically the same -- a few souvenir shops, a few cafes, an electronics shop, and some sort of weird white, brightly lit area with giant boxes of booze, perfume, and chocolate. Apparently, something about international travel makes people want to try a new flavor of vodka, smell like Scarlett Johannson, and mow down a brick of Tobleron.


You'll remember in my last entry, I was worried that I had too much stuff, and that my luggage would be over the weight limit. Turns out that worry was well-founded. I was 11 kgs (24 lbs) over the cap. I asked how much it costs to be over, and the woman behind the counter told me $57.

"$57 total, well, that's not bad. I'll just pay it."
"No sir, $57 per kilo."

That's a little different. Being that 57 x 11 = 627, I had to dump some stuff. For $627, it would almost be cheaper to just replace everything in my suitcase. I spent the next half-hour crouched over my luggage and a trash can, throwing away everything that looked relatively heavy and not absolutely vital -- a pair of sneakers, long sleeve t-shirts, a squash racket, all the liquids in my bathroom kit, so on and so on. (They really should have one of those giant donation bins at the airport.) It wasn't easy, but I got it under.

My first flight, and 8-hour jaunt to Kuala Lumpur, was long and boring. I watched three movies. The first one, Unstoppable, starring Denzel Washington and Chris Pine, was actually not terrible. I expected it to be crap, but it was a step up from crap. I might even be tempted to call it good, but it had a major casting flaw. Rosario Dawson plays a blue-collar train dispatcher, a role she's way too good looking for. That's just not what a train dispatcher would look like in really life. I couldn't get over this, and it kinda ruined the movie for me. I don't like Hollywood's insistence to put hot women in non-hot women roles. Maybe this made sense once, 40 years ago, when one of the only ways to see hot women was in the movies, but we have the Internet now. We can Google any hot woman anytime we want. Feel free now Hollywood, to cast homely women in homely women roles.

[Find me the train dispatcher who looks like this. I dare you.]

Another movie I watched, Soul Surfer, was a real-life story about Bethany Hamilton, a pro surfer who had her arm bitten off by a shark. It was terrible, so sappy and trite. It reminded me of The Brady Bunch episode where they go to Hawaii. Dennis Quaid and Helen Hunt play Bethany's parents, which makes sense. Neither of those two is a stranger to crap movies.


My lay over in Malaysia was pretty brief, thankfully. I spent most of it trying to read, but being distracted by a giant TV spewing out a bunch of Muslim prayer. I don't like listening to prayer, of any religion, it weirds me out. Have you ever been driving through the boondocks in the US and listened to the Bible station? Creepy.

I arrived in India without incident and S was waiting for me at the airport. I quickly discovered that India is a madhouse of place, but I'll save that for the next entry.