Day One
So I arrived late last night after a crazy day of delays at Los Angeles Airport (LAX). Funnily enough it was until the plane landed that I started talking to the female passenger sitting next to me. As it turned out she had been living and traveling around the East coast of Australia, with a recent visit to Thailand and New Zealand, for the past couple of years and she was finally returning home to Ontario.
She (didn’t get her name) spoke of how she missed the Christmas time here, where it was white and people celebrated differently ie. they didn’t have “barbies” and beers with their mates. The image of a white Christmas immediately appeared inside my head. How exciting!
We headed to the Customs checkpoint together where we joined different queues and then she was gone. I probably should have gotten her details, it can’t hurt to have another local contact. Oh well.
So I cleared Customs and was directed to the Immigration counter. Aside from me there were a couple of guys of Latino descent standing at the counter beside me being questioned about why they were in Canada, and I think one other person on the other side of the room. The immigration lady at my counter asked why I was in Canada and I responded “for work”, at which point she asked to see my paperwork. I handed over the thirty or so printed pages of documents that I had prepared (actually I was told to prepare by the agency that was representing me for this migration) prior to leaving Sydney.
After the immigration officer worked out, with the help of a colleague, which job code I should be listed under on the system and entering it in, then paying $150 CAD to the teller, my work permit (expiring on the 29th of Oct 2009 - woohoo!) was stapled to my passport. It was official, I’m legally a Canadian!
So off to baggage claim next and being virtually one of ten people left in that part of the area it wasn’t difficult to locate my luggage which had been taken off the carousel and placed on the ground with a few other bags. I guess the owners of those bags were still at immigration. I then walked off in search of a cab.
However first I had to figure out where I was going, for in my rush the final night I was in Sydney I had forgotten to note down the actual number of my friend Nicole’s place, who I would be staying with. I had everything else but without a number that’d make for an interesting time once I got to the street in the middle of the night!
Nic was meant to pick me up earlier but due to the flight delays it was way too late for her as she had work today. After walking around the airport trying to find an internet terminal (there was none) I approached the information guy and was told that my best bet was the Sheraton which I could access through the Airport. It then occurred to me that it’d probably cost me a whole lot less, and be a great deal quicker, just to make an international phone call to Nicole (who was probably sleeping) to confirm the details. So that’s what I did.
I then made my way down to the taxi rank and some dude asked if I needed a cab. I told him I did and he motioned me towards a vehicle. Immediately I noticed that it wasn’t a cab, or at least it wasn’t a cab as we’d define it back in Sydney. This thing we’d refer to as a “limo”, and in fact the vehicle itself had “limo” written on it. I told him “no, no, I need a cab” to which the driver responded “it’s fixed rate”. So I told him where I was headed (Thornhill) and asked him how much it’d cost. He went inside the cab, grabbed a street directory and worked out it’d be $54. This was in line with what Nicole had advised me (via facebook - gotta love it) so I agreed to take a ride. I was asked if I wanted to take the express way for another $4 and I said “sure”, at this point I was just eager to get to bed.
Driving along the express way (or “motor way” for those Aussies reading this) in the middle of the night was interesting. There were absolutely no other cars on the road, and as I peered outside the window of the limo (or cab if you will) I noticed we were going past industrialized areas. Large warehouse complexes that had single brand names on the wall facing the express way. Actually, for those who can relate, it reminded me of the drive along the M5 Motorway out to Ingleburn/Campbelltown in South West Sydney. The express way itself was massive, five huge lanes and the occasional exit lane. I wondered if it ever got terribly congested during peak hours like our motorways back home (which were only half the size).
Once we got off the express the next thing I noticed was how surreal the surroundings were. Surreal because it felt like I was in an American sitcom where the streets were lined with trees, and all the houses looked very similar to each other. This was a nice area, we’re talking double story houses with basketball ring out front, double garages and extremely well lit frontage. We were in Thornhill.
Moments later we pulled up to Nic’s place. The trip had taken us around thirty minutes. I could see a figure looking out from behind the front door. I guessed that it was Nic’s father but it actually turned out to be Nic who had managed to stay up long enough to welcome me. How sweet 
I payed the driver, grabbed my luggage and headed inside. Nicole introduced me to her father Rick for the first time and we spent some time getting acquainted (and re-acquainted). I was given a quick tour of the lovely house and after a nice catch up in the dining room Nic went to bed and I stayed up till 3am wasting time on the net before finally crashing in David’s (Nic’s brother) room. It was nice to be sleeping on a bed again after such an eventful journey from the land down under.
