Flight Home

Up early for our flight home. I would definitely come back to Sydney and stay again in Elizabeth Bay, if we had more time. But we are running out of that, so probably we won’t revisit many places. 

We passed bin chickens on our way to the train station.

Pulling our rolling carts with our heavy backpacks is just about all we can do. Thank goodness the elevators work in all the stations. Only one train change, and we were at the Sydney airport. 

Our flights were easy. The Delta Comfort+ seats were long enough and reclined enough to be fairly comfortable. 

Our seat mate from SYD to LAX was a small woman in the window seat. After she ate some food she’d brought on board, she wrapped an eye mask/scarf thing around her head, covered herself in the complimentary blanket, tucked her feet up on the seat, and slept for most of the flight. At the mid flight snack, she woke up enough to eat that and to ask me if Grant were going to use his blanket. No, she may have it. Another layer, and she slept the rest of the way. I was amazed. I suspect she does this flight fairly often.

We, on the other hand, were up and down the whole 14-hour flight. And ate dinner, snack, and breakfast. I followed the time-shifting app to avoid jet lag, napping when suggested, watching a movie or reading on my iPad when I was supposed to be getting light.

Having my hoody and cowl scarf helped me keep warm and block out light when I needed to sleep. I forgot to put on my compression socks, so I walked the aisles a little every couple of hours.

At LAX, I opened the Mobile Passport Control app. Following its instructions, I took headshots of Grant and me, then went to the special line for those of us with MPC. The line guard checked to see if we had the app, then let us in. Three people in line ahead of us. Yes, I felt smug looking over at all the people in the regular line. Our turn, the customs agent asks for our passports, looks at them and waves us in. I ask about MPC. Nope, not rolled out at LAX yet. The government works in mysterious ways.

No agricultural inspection, so no one asked about my chocolate, shells or feathers. We got our suitcases from baggage, took the bus to Terminal 3, went through TSA, and waited for our plane to Orlando.

Stephanie picked us up, we ordered pizza from the car to grab on the way home. 30+ hours door to door. 

I realized I’d lost an earring on the plane. I’d worn these the entire time we were gone. It must have caught in my scarf when I pulled it up to sleep. They were ones I’d bought in the Keys. Not expensive, or particularly beloved. But still, on the last flight of a 6 week trip? 

Gracie was glad to see us. We will unpack tomorrow.