I had a very interesting Saturday the 14th, which involved checking a big item off my Aussie bucket list, having my flatmate and her beloved kitty move out of our apartment, and being catfished for the first time in my life – and ended with me suppressing tears while walking home under the full moon.
I can’t believe it took me nearly 32 years to take my first helicopter flight! I’ve been lucky enough to take a few scenic flights during my travels (over the Grand Canyon, Great Barrier Reef, and Milford Sound)… but those were all in small planes.
I spent the final week of my recent trip to New Zealand in Queenstown, so-called adventure capital of the world. It’s the kind of place that’s stupid-stunning from every angle, which tourism has fully exploited by offering just about every adrenaline-inducing outdoor adventure you can think of.
My obsession with Australia can be traced back to my college years: summers spent working in a photo lab, saving all my earnings for my year studying abroad in Sydney.
The first time I flew to Australia, in 2006, I went from Hartford to Chicago to Los Angeles to Sydney. This took about 2.5 days longer than it should have due to a delayed flight and a missed connection.