The journey of thousands of miles begins with one step

As we drove to the Brisbane airport and one of my beautiful friends began telling me how brave and daring I was, a huge presence the size of a grapefruit slowly began forming in my stomach, to be quickly joined by many butterflies fluttering and exploring my tightening abdomen. 

As she kept talking -"I could NEVER do what you're doing, WOW! Even if the love of my life was on the other side of the world! I'm not as brave as you are, I would be thinking of everything and everyone I was leaving behind and everything I had to lose!" - her cacophony was soon joined by my shrill inner voice. As I tried to psyche myself into relaxing all I remember thinking was 'Gosh woman! You would swear you had never been on a plane before!' 

Until this point I had struggled to answer when asked if I was excited to move to Denmark for my boyfriend. I had shrugged and explained calmly that I was too busy to think about it, that I would get excited en route from London to Copenhagen and yes, of course I was missing him. In that car and drawing closer to my departure, the gravity of my decision utterly consumed me- and I felt like a fraud. My relaxed facade was gone and was replaced by questions like, who am I kidding? Did I really think this through? How did I so calmly put this trip together? I might not return to Brisbane to live even when I'm back in Australia. I have so many friends who I adore here. 

As my friend kicked me to the curb and we embraced I just had to hug her twice as the tears started coming. Those little salty devils continued to visit throughout security and the departure lounge until I eventually power napped my way into Sydney arrivals. I spent three nights with a friend who was house sitting a place with Opera House and Harbour Bridge views and remember thinking numerous times that his friend who owned the place really knew how to live. My dream apartment.

The grapefruit returned in time for my Air China check in, accompanied by my usual feeling of dread before an international departure that for whatever reason imaginable, I wouldn't be let on the plane. Reading this back it sounds so irrational, what could they possibly tell me? 'Sorry ma'am, this airline disallows blondes with ugly backpacks making potentially self destructive and financially damaging decisions.' Maybe they should, but in reality- get on the plane, idiot.

After departing Australia the biggest immediate problem I had was pissing off my stunning Chinese flight attendant by accidentally touching the call button one too many times (it turns out I'm really scared of angry Asians). This was exacerbated by telling her I said 'just water please', not 'juice and water please'. Avoid eye contact for the next 10 hours? Check.

Beijing greeted me with skies so grey I felt like I needed sunglasses more badly than in a Queensland summer. The glare of the 'sunshine state' has nothing on Chinese smog. I soon met up with my aisle buddies from the flight, an older couple who bought me breakfast for helping them change their language settings on the in-flight entertainment and were so nice they made me miss my parents. I quit smoking 6 months ago but also couldn't resist the temptation of a carton of duty free Marlboros for about $9 AUD. When you have bought cigarettes on a constant basis previously, you can't NOT buy them at that price. 

My connecting flight to Heathrow started off well as I was sat next to a cute Aussie guy who was a former exchange student like myself. Fun! The fun however was not to last as I began to get violently ill after the meal and spent the next 10 hours accepting sick bags from my fellow passengers, getting lots of attention from staff and slipping in and out of a sleeping pill aided doze. If there was a grapefruit of nerves anywhere remaining in my stomach, it was now officially gone.

Heathrow and I also got off on the wrong foot thanks to the girl at Sydney duty free who failed to seal my vodka properly and well, goodbye vodka. As I memorized how to say stomach ache in Danish (jeg har en mavepine for those of you curious) I could finally focus on the reason I was on a plane from London to Copenhagen with a hell of a lot of classy Danes with rocking accents- my classy Dane. As I walked into arrivals with my baggage I am happy to report that I was greeted with flowers and all those months apart just melted away. As we drove to our new apartment and I walked and puffed my way up four flights of stairs (no elevator, and yes I am somewhat lazy) I swore that I would never be tempted to smoke the glorious cheap cigarettes I had thought were such a steal in China. 

After unloading my hoard of luggage from the other side of the world I was also played a single Bryan Adams song on guitar to pay respect to the other man that had got me through long distance, but then promptly told that 'we don't listen to Bryan and Michael Bolton in our apartment.' I'll miss those guys. 

I wasnt really intending for this post to be all about the journey but frankly I did have a lot of travel time to mull things over. 

Until next time, when many Danish observations await-

Loz

PS have a pretty solid grudge against Air China , was sick for a memorable 24 hours after arrival in Copenhagen.