Australia for free?! But not really...

The journey to Australia began with some minor bumps on the runway before takeoff. And by minor, I mean major. My incredible friend, Sarah (who flew me to Hong Kong for free the previous year), gave me standby tickets so that I could go to Australia for Christmas and New Year's. With standby tickets, you only have to pay taxes and fees. Granted, for a flight to Australia, that's still a chunk of change, but nothing compared to paying for that round trip ticket...

The big downside of flying standby? THE STANDING BY. To get to Australia, I needed to: fly to LA, fly to Sydney, and then purchase a flight for Melbourne before leaving LA so I could get to my old pal, roommate, mate - Andrew Tulley.

After seriously(ish) considering taking an Uber Copter to the airport to save on time, off I went on public transport with a skip in my step, and hope in my heart (or something like that).

I made it to my gate with minimal time to spare (what! no time for beer? could've had time with that copter...). I waited for my name to be called for the flight. I waited until the last person boarded; there was about 20 people left; only one name was called. This was when I realized how far down the list I was and would continue to be. THIS was when I began to fully realize what a "D3" standby ticket is (which, of course, I had been warned of).

A D3 standby ticket will always be at the bottom of the standby list. When new people get added on from previous flights, they go ahead of you. A D3 stands for 3 things that put you at the bottom of the totem pole: you did NOT pay for your ticket, you are NOT a flight attendant, you are NOT related to a flight attendant.

As this realization settled in, I was not deterred. So what if I had to wait all night - surely I'd make it on one of the six flights to LA that evening. I settled in with my beer that I now had all kinds of time for...

...And then some. I quickly got into a routine: drink beer, go check gate, watch one sole standby passenger get called for the flight, commiserate with others that got left behind, drink another beer, repeat.

And then. The last flight of the evening took off and reality sunk in. I gathered my bags, and with a perfunctory wave to all the others left behind, I settled into the public transportation to bring me back to my apartment. I was greeted by this exquisite sight in my bed (SOMEONE had a holiday party and since I was going to be gone, I had promised Court a spot in my bed).

Not ready to turn in after the exciting events that had transpired, I poured myself the last drop of Australian gin that I had lying around, and began my probe for flights to Australia available for purchase. A couple of gins later, and the deed was done. I bought a round trip ticket to Australia for 12 hours later. I would arrive in time for Christmas Eve. NOW I could sleep soundly.

Despite the purchased ticket, my confidence had waned, and I was much more apprehensive during this ride to the airport. BUT I made the flights, and after a couple stops along the way (LA, Vegas...), I landed in Melbourne!

As far as travel travesties go, we've come (almost) to the end of the road. From here on out, I was in the safe hands of Andrew Tulley (and his wonderful mother, Angela, who picked me up from the airport).

This first evening was one of my favorites. I ordered my jet lag to go to hell and went out on the town with Tulley...

Tulley was off to work the next morning, even though it was Christmas Eve (day). I discovered a bit of Melbourne with his roommates, and upon his return, we were off to the Christmas Eve celebration at Angela's. And let me tell you... she knows how to throw a party.

Christmas Day was more of the same. Dinner was hosted at Tulley's sister-in-law's sister's house, with a phenomenal view of the city - although, with the fires raging across Australia - the views weren't up to the usual standards. Also, if you're looking for specific localities in this post, none will be found. I never fully understood where I was in the city. I just knew that during this time, I was in, or around Melbourne, Australia.

Let me tell you though... Christmas in summer? I don't hate it... Roof decks, beach views, seafood, salad, sunburn, summer cocktails... I could get used to it.

Boxing Day was next! 'Twas the perfect day to sightsee in Downtown Melbourne with the most convivial, but worthless tour guide Melbourne could have offered: Andrew Tulley.

The day consisted of me pointing at endless landmarks, asking questions about the historical significance of this church or that mural.

He humored me at the beginning with lies of conquests and hardships. There was some long-winded story about how even this cactus came to be...

 But after a short while, the jig was up, and we grabbed some coffees and went shopping with Tulley's illustrious roommate, Jackie.

The murals were actually quite incredible - Tulley took me to many famous streets, although I couldn't tell you which ones.

It was then time to celebrate Boxing Day RIGHT. I put on my new jumpsuit, and we were off to meet up with Tulley's brother at the "Espy" (gorgeous hotel / bar on the water where all of the cool kids hang out on Boxing Day, so obviously we were there). The night ended with kebabs, which we had to eat, because according to Tulley, it's "so Melbourne".

The next day Tulley and I took off for Palm Beach! Sarah Elix (another Australian bestie that lives in NYC, but was visiting her family in Sydney for the holidays) picked us up from the airport, and we were off to meet up with her family at the beach. Our time here looked a lot like this:

Other things we did: beach, pool, hike, sleep, read, chat, eat, drink, and have staring contests with kookaburras. According to Tulley, this is the second most famous animal in Australia, "Kangaroo, then kookaburra, duh." Sarah said this was bullsh*t.

Next stop was Sydney. With the spectacular views we had at the house, it's a wonder I was motivated to see any more of the city at all...

I was able to experience the strange and intriguing nightlife in Sydney. In 2014, the city introduced a "lockout law" in the entertainment district, forcing bars to close their doors to new customers at 1:30am, with an enforced last call of 3:00am. Now this might not sound that crazy to you, and maybe you're thinking why aren't these idiots sleeping... I get it. But I met many an Aussie who was infuriated by the lockdown, and I gotta say, I understand the anger.

Our night's festivities included meeting an "authentic Australian drag queen" who Tulley, of course, made me pose with.

When I asked Sarah what our itinerary in Sydney consisted of, the answer was essentially, "beaches". We did the Bondi to Bronte Coastal Walk which was truly breathtaking. I kept holding up the walk to take photos, but just look...

Each day ended like this...

And began like this...

With Tulley making avo toast each morning, OF COURSE.

We had now arrived on the day. The day that I would finally get close to the opera house. I had peered at her over many a drink, but the day had come to take the ferry towards the view that I had stared at. It did not disappoint. Thankfully, Sarah and Tulley were happy to cater to my touristy needs as we crossed the harbour; I avidly attempted to not flash the fellow passengers during the photoshoot, but am not sure if I succeeded or not.

We did some shopping in downtown Sydney (I'm sure there's a better way to describe where we were, but I kind of just knew that I was in Sydney). We made a valiant attempt to make it to Opera Bar (right by the Opera House, so that the tourist - me - could be directly in the shadow of the beautiful tourist trap), but alas, it was at full capacity with those that wished to watch the fireworks there.

We rushed back to the ferry, because it was indeed New Year’s Eve. I'm not one to ever get excited about fireworks, but I was told this show would be one for the books. Oh, and they set them off twice - once for the children at 9 pm, and once for the adults at midnight. Those Aussies: always looking out. 

We did our hair, drank champagne, played games, had our hair destroyed by the wind, had a scare that the air show wouldn't happen because of the wind, hid from the wind, braved the wind, watched the air show, drank more champagne, watched the fireworks, and then watched the fireworks again. 'Twas spectacular. Oh, and the fireworks show was truly one for the books.

Next day was pool time, Opera House up close (which, of course, included Opera Bar), and bidding adieu to Tulley as he headed back to Melbourne.

We then headed back to Palm Springs for the most lovely boat day with Sarah's friends. Had some drinks, had a great view, took a couple of pics to commemorate the great day...

After that, it was back to Sydney to pack up and say "goodbye". I was headed to Melbourne for one last night with Tulley before heading back to the States. I confidently strolled into the airport and printed out my ticket. As I stood in the queue for security, I looked around at the other tickets around me; they all said "MEL". I looked down at my ticket; it said "AVV". The panic started in the pit of my stomach and rose, quickly engulfing me.

I shakily googled the airport code listed on my ticket. Still not fully understanding the geography of the continent, I was sure I was headed to the opposite coast. Turns out Avalon is indeed a "Melbourne" airport, but in the same sense that Trenton and Atlantic City are Philadelphia airports. They are technically in the vicinity... you just have to add an hour minimum to whatever travel time you had anticipated from the airport. I looked up Ubers from this Avalon airport to Tulley’s - they were more than my flight from Sidney had been.

I sheepishly texted him, alerting him of my error. And just like that, he had a solution. Jackie, his roommate, was on her way home from the beach and would be driving through(ish) the area. I was able to take a deep breath and know that I would be in good hands upon my arrival in this "Avalon".

I landed, grabbed my bag, and called Jackie. Her words upon answering were not quite the most comforting words I've ever heard. "I did a bad thing," she said. Okay... I'm thinking maybe we'll have to go back to the beach house because she forgot something? It was much worse.

 Turns out she did not have the keys to her car. And while she was indeed at the Avalon airport, we could not leave the airport. How is this possible, you may ask?! Push-to-start cars. That is how. Dumbest invention EVER. She had had the keys on the windshield as she ran back into the house to grab something, jumped in the car, and driven off. The keys fell off along the way, but the car kept going without a hitch. It wasn't until she pulled up to the curb at the airport and stopped the car that it became apparent the keys were not in sight. And now, there was no way to start the car.

After an hour of calling and trying to find numerous solutions (many of which fell through), we finally had Tulley on the way with the spare keys that he had found at the apartment. Another hour and a couple of beers later, the knight in shining armour arrived, and we were back in business.

We had an amazing night out on the town, coercing Jackie to come join us. It was back to the States the next morning. I said goodbye and sped off to the airport, for once confident that I had a guaranteed seat and was headed to the correct destination.