The Last Entry

November 13th, 2006 Hyde Park Inn, Sydney, Australia
Living in Brisbane for the past few months has been a great experience. The only other times I’ve ever lived in a big city was before I can remember in Fort Worth and then for a few months in Athens. It was peaceful, clean, and friendly city and I was sad to watch it get smaller from the window of the plane. I could see Kangaroo Point and the Bridgewater Apartments from the sky and then it all disappeared.
It was a short flight to Sydney. As my bag came out on the conveyor belt, I felt a slight twinge of anger as I saw that the zipper had been busted and my socks were falling out. This is the second time airline baggage handlers have destroyed my bags and I wasn’t happy about it. Colin was there waiting for us in his long socks and we loaded his bus again. We drove through the city to the familiar Hyde Park where we pulled up to our old abode at the inn across the street from the lovely park. I’m a big fan of Sydney. It feels more European, or British, than the other cities we have visited. Pierre, Darren, and I were put in the same room (801) we had before and I claimed my same bed. The view from the balcony was still beautiful.
Our other bags which Colin had driven here from Brisbane were waiting in the lobby. Mine was the big broken one with masking tape wrapped around it. I hauled the thing up to the room and threw it down. The three of us left the inn and walked a blocks over to George Street where, across from Town Hall, was a discount shopping mall. We tried a luggage store closer to the inn, but it was ridiculously expensive. At the discount store I found a really big, solid suitcase at a very reasonable price. I was very happy. It was much bigger than the busted one and seemed to be pretty tough. That’s what I like to see in a bag. So I bought it and was happy.
I went for a run around Hyde Park, going four times around the perimeter. Sydney’s a fantastic city, especially the area around the park. It feels safe and right. Sitting on a bench on the far side of a park was an old lady who was here two months ago. She reminds me of the lady in Mary Poppins about whom Julie Andrews sings “Feed the Birds.” A flock of pigeons sat around this lady, quite a few of which were perched upon her shoulders. I wondered what had brought her to the streets and why she was still here.
We were told to wear formal clothes to the Opera House this evening, so I had to dig out my slacks, white shirt, and sports jacket again. I wanted to breathe, so I decided to ditch the tie. Once the group had gathered in the lobby, we walked down the street to our dinner, which was in some hotel, the name of which escapes me. It was a buffet dinner, and it was very good. Ashley, Greer, and I developed a philosophy of life regarding two rolls of bread. We are all advocates of the laidback Australian mindset, enjoying and appreciating life. Everything’s too fast in America. We can’t slow down, because then we might actually think about decisions before we make them. Take time to appreciate the rolls once you’ve buttered them. There’s no need to rush and choke them down. Do what the Greeks do: work for awhile, and then take a siesta for an longer while. Enjoy your buttered rolls. That’s life right there. Pretty profound stuff right there.
We boarded the bus and headed to the Sydney Opera House for a concert. I didn’t really care what the music was, because it was in this amazing building. We entered the large Concert Hall and found our seats, which were actually well-positioned. The opening act consisted of a brother and sister and two other guys. They were very talented, playing the guitar and harmonica and trumpet. The girl could be a very good singer, but she unfortunately does this weird undulation with her voice which I call the “sheep effect.” I did like their music, though. And then the main performer came on. Her name is Kasey Chambers, and Australian country and western singer. And she was really good. I very much enjoyed her music. She’s a fantastic performer, very witty and humorous. She seemed like a very sweet and amiable person, incredibly down-to-earth. She was definitely excited to be performing where she was. She did a great job of interacting with the audience. The first ten years of her life were spent living out of the back of her family’s van in the Nullarbor Plain, living off the land. They would sit around the campfire at night and sing and play the guitar. Her father plays in her ensemble now. She’s a very good lyricist and has a beautiful voice. One of the best songs was a tune she wrote a few years ago about Steve Irwin. It celebrated his enthusiasm and zeal for life (or for buttered rolls), and it seemed appropriate to play it now. It was strange to imagine I was watching this concert in the Opera House, but then again I’ve done some pretty wild things on this trip that don’t quite seem possible.
The city glistened as we walked into the night. The bridge behind the Opera House was lit and the water beneath it sparkled. Tomorrow we spend touring a few of the many sites of Sydney. Only a few more days left and this will be but a distant memory.

November 15th, 2006 Hyde Park Inn, Sydney, Australia
We met in the lobby of the hotel at 9 yesterday morning and boarded the bus as soon as Colin arrived. We made our way to a small peninsula with a view back towards Sydney Harbour and the Opera House and bridge, nicknamed the Coat Hangar. On the other side of the neck of land, hewn into the rock, was Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair. Elizabeth Macquarie had this stone chair carved from the rock by her husband Lachlan Macquarie (who had a tendency to name everything after himself). After the convicts were brought in to hack away, Mrs. Macquarie was able to sit and watch the ships as they sailed into the harbor. On the far side of the peninsula was an inlet in which the old wharf once sat. This has now been turned into very expensive apartment complexes. The top floor of one of these complexes was purchased by Russell Crowe for $14 million. Great actor, but he’s got a surplus of money on his hands. It’s not even a very attractive location. I wouldn’t pay $14 million for it. Then again, I’m the kind of guy that struggles over whether or not to spend a few bucks on a bottle of water.
As we drove we made a few stops for pictures of the harbor. One stop led to a path that crawled over a series of rock outcroppings. Out in the distance I could see sailboats being tossed by the waves. Going around in the world in a sailboat, or any boat really, would be a lot of fun. That’s another thing to add to my list of things to do before I die. I’m going to have to live a really long time.
Colin parked the bus on the side of the road and we walked across a stone bridge and down to Bondi Beach, supposedly the most famous in all of Australia. For some reason I doubted this, because Surfers Paradise seemed pretty darn popular. We were given a fairly large chunk of time here, so I simply walked up and down the beach, enjoying the breeze and the view of the sea. William saw me from a café and accompanied me to the playground where we hopped on the swings and scaled the monkey bars and slid down poles and just acted our age.
Lunch was up the street from the harbor in a German restaurant called Löwenbräu. We were led to a dimly-lit room in the back where, lo and behold, another buffet was set up. This is in no way a complaint. Buffets are definitely the way to go. And you can’t really complain when you have chicken schnitzel.
We walked down the street to the harbor where we boarded the Captain Cook III and set out on a two-hour tour of Sydney Harbour and others that connected to it. It was a fantastic way to see parts of the city, passing right beside the Opera House. A lady stood on the deck with a microphone pointing out things of interest and telling stories about the city. I love Sydney. Ashley and I had coffee with a elderly lady from southern California, telling her about our trip and hearing of her upcoming cruise around New Zealand. William and I sat in the back of the boat and threw pieces of bread to the seagulls that flew, literally, within inches of us. William almost lost a hand and he seemed to think it was really funny.
“Oh, Donafen, dey almost bit yoh nose off!”
Once we were docked, we walked up the street, past the restaurant, and underneath a tall tunnel to an Anglican church. We made a quick stop to check it out before meeting Colin and the bus. He drove us around the corner to Hyde Park and St. Mary’s Cathedral. This is the beautiful and massive church that I was unable to visit two months ago because it was closed. But not this time. It was a magnificent church, one of the most beautiful I’ve seen. It was most certainly the most attractive, and the largest, church we have seen on this trip. The crypt was closed, which only meant that I would have to return the following the day.
We had done a fair amount of walking during the day, so I thought two laps around Hyde Park was adequate. Kevin, Darren, Heidi, and I walked to a video store and rented a few movies for the evening: Shaun of the Dead, Equilibrium, and The Usual Suspects, Felicity, Katie, Will, and Derek all joined us in watching them. I had to become a member of the place to rent them. It’s unfortunate we’re leaving soon, because they offer some pretty sweet deals at that joint. Life’s unfair sometimes, I suppose.

Heidi, Darren, Felicity, and I met in the lobby of the hotel and headed out to the Sydney Aquarium. We passed several blocks and over the main highway on a walkway before coming to Cockle Bay, which connected to Darling Harbour. We bought dual tickets to the aquarium and to Wildlife World. The aquarium was far more impressive, probably because everything in the wildlife place we had seen in the Outback or at the Australia Zoo. The variety of fish that swim in the seas is pretty astounding.
We walked along the wharf of Cockle Bay and found lunch. I had my last fish and chips, at least for awhile. I’m going to miss that stuff. We then began making our way back across the streets. We came to George Street and went into the Queen Victoria Building. It’s a large structure, in the style of, very appropriately, Victorian architecture with green domes upon the top. The inside has been renovated into a shopping complex, a very expensive one, so we didn’t stay around very long. We peeked into a few souvenir shops before making our way to Hyde Park.
We arrived at St. Mary’s Cathedral. A ticket had to be purchased to venture down into the crypt, but it was only $5, so I figured I could splurge. The vaulted ceilings of the basement stretched over floors laden with beautiful mosaics. A sort of museum was set up with information on the history of the church and the surrounding areas. It was certainly worth the few bucks to get in. We sat on one of the back pews for a little while, listening to the music of the organ.
I went on another shortened run, again figuring I had walked a good long way. At 5 the group met in the lobby and we drove around the corner to the revolving restaurant, the observation deck of which is the tallest in the Southern Hemisphere. The view from the top was amazing. Sydney’s quite a large city. The Tasman Sea lay before us and the Opera House was also visible. We ate an excellent buffet dinner before we descended down the lift to the street. Upon returning to the hotel, we all piled into a meeting room on the first floor to have a sort of closing ceremony for the trip. We went around the room and shared our favorite memory and the person who has impacted us the most. It was difficult to narrow it down, but people really had some heartfelt responses. I named Rich, Dr. Byram, and, of course, William as the people who meant the most. When I said his name, William’s little face went red and he smiled sheepishly and hung his head. Derek said I had impacted him in our many discussions, saying that even though we didn’t always agree, I had challenged him and inspired him with my conviction and my desire to what’s right no matter what. I really appreciated that. I’m glad that kind of stuff is apparent, at least to some people. Poor Joelle was crying, as were others, as she tried to get through her favorite things.
“Jonathan,” she said, wiping her eyes, “I loved our hike in New Zealand. That was just so great. And I have really loved the way you are with kids.” As she said this she wiped her eyes once more and added, “I want that in a husband.”
Everybody started cracking up at the awkward (and unintended) timing of that sentence.
We then played a game in which we picked a name of someone in the group out of a bag and everyone else had to guess who it was. It created some interesting situations. Kevin Finn drew William’s name out of the bag and immediately ran over to me and jumped in my lap, popping me on the top of the head. I think everyone figured out who he was. Patrick had been contracted at the beginning of the semester to create awards for everyone. They were absolutely hilarious. Mine was in honor of an incident in New Zealand, and it was presented to Jonathan “I am the Messiest Pooper” McRay. Don’t ask. Rich and Dr. Byram then shared a few thoughts about the semester, of their appreciation and enjoyment of all that has gone on in the past few months. It’s strange to think it’s all over. This was our last night in Australia. Three months have gone by very quickly. I think it’s hitting some people that it’s all drawing to an end, and they’re realizing that they weren’t as ready to go home as they thought. There was no such revelation for me. I knew it already.
I’ll miss this place.

November 16th, 2006 On Air China Flight 178, somewhere along the East China Sea
I was able to procure Patrick’s laptop in order to pass the time of this long flight. I might need to retract a few things I said previously about Air China. This flight hasn’t been so bad. Perhaps I’m strange, but I’ve always enjoyed airline food, and the meals on this particular airline are no exception. For some reason Pierre and I were lined up to sit next to one another, and I had the window seat. People over six feet should have their choice of seat on a plane. Anna was kind enough to switch around, so Pierre moved to an aisle seat behind us and Anna hopped up to the seat 30K and I moved over to the aisle. I actually have plenty of leg room and the flight actually showed a decent movie early in the trip. I suppose Poseidon is a better choice for an airline movie than a cruise movie. Definitely better than Cast Away or Air Force One.
I had planned on waking up early this morning to run one final time around Hyde Park. My alarm sounded at 7:50, and I promptly turned it off and set it for a later time and fell back asleep. I’m not a very disciplined person early in the morning. Thirty minutes later I was up and showering and making sure everything was in order. I left my old suitcase in the room. I had planned on taking it to Hyde Park and making a bonfire out of it, but it wouldn’t have looked good to miss the flight to China because I was sitting in an Aussie jail.
We all have a lot of luggage. I could have left half of what I brought. I should have figured that three months ago, but my dear sweet mother was trying to take care of me. It was appreciated, but I’m carrying around a load of deadweight. On top of this I have been asked by Felicity to carry one of her many bags. I should have just thrown it back at her, but it was my day to chivalrous.
By 9 we had all the bags on the bus and it was scraping the pavement. As we drove, Colin expressed his deep appreciation for this group and for all that it means to him. He has been driving for HUA for eight years now and seems to be as much a part of the trip as Australia itself. His voice shook as he spoke. We exchanged a hearty handshake as we said goodbye. He was quite possibly the finest pool teammate I’ve ever had.
I don’t belief I have ever had so much trouble checking my bags. Oh yeah, except for that one time when I had a darn sword! I had somewhere believed we were allowed two carry-ons, but this was not true, so I would have to check three bags: two of mine and Felicity’s. We were allowed thirty-two kilos per bag, and my new big one was around 31.2. It was mainly the bag itself that weighed so much. My smaller suitcase was far under the limit, so I did a bit of rearranging with my backpack to reduce its weight. I had to pay $28 for checking three bags. I definitely hope to be reimbursed.
Security was a breeze, for the sole reason that I no longer had a laptop to pull out of my backpack. Heather, Shelby, Ms. Pam, and little Claire were flying back to Brisbane. Heather and the girls would be joining the rest of their family in LA a day after we arrived. It was sad to say goodbye. Shelby gave me a big bear-hug and I thanked Ms. Pam profusely for the trip. It would not have been possibly if it weren’t for her. She coordinated everything, fixed everything, provided every piece of information, and just simply made this the outstanding trip it was. I couldn’t thank her enough. Dr. Burks, she deserves a really big raise.
I was able to sleep quite comfortably for some time. I turned the music station on my armrest to the Classical music station and rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I really love that kind of music. It’s quite relaxing and peaceful. Vivaldi’s “Allegra” from “Spring” of his “Four Seasons” was playing and I blocked out the hum of the airplane and listened to the sound of the orchestra. Yes, the D.J. did mention the name of the song, but I’m a fairly well-rounded guy, so don’t act so surprised.
As Australia faded beneath us, I gazed out the window, longing for the day when I could return once more. There are so many more places to see and so many people I want to visit again that I cannot imagine not coming back. Australia is a beautiful land full of amazing sites and sounds and smells. Living there was an incredible experience. I miss the Land Down Under already. I have been to the incredible world of Australia, and I will come back again. Someday.

November 17th, 2006 On Air China Flight 983, somewhere over Siberia
We landed in Shanghai around 8 and disembarked. We followed the maze that is that airport until we came back to the same gate and boarded the same aircraft, sitting in the same seats. I experienced a bit of déjà vu. When we left China in late August, we flew in to the same gate and went through the same maze, arriving back at the same gate and sitting in the same seats once again. The trip to Australia began in the same way it ended. Our first hotel in Australia had been the Hyde Park Inn, which was also our last. It created a little bit of parallelism.
We arrived in Beijing around 11:30 and were greeted by our dear old friend Vince, holding that old yellow flag. With him was Daniel Ranberger, the guy who graduated from Harding and was now teaching English for a year in China. He had also flown to Australia and spent a little over a week with us at the Bridgewater Apartments.
Winter had arrived in Beijing, and it was refreshing outside. The forecast, however, said nothing about this. Instead of predicting “Cold” or “Sunny” or “Cloudy,” the one word forecast for Beijing was “Smoke.” Our accommodation for the night was a good little drive into the massive city. The Pei Xin Hotel was a very nice place. There were two to a room, so Derek and I signed up and headed to Room 711. The rooms were large and the beds comfortable. The only problem was it was really warm. The air conditioner had been turned off, presumably because of winter. I don’t understand this line of thought. Just because it’s cold outside doesn’t mean it needs to so hot inside you have to get naked to keep cool. I am not implying by this that either Derek or I got naked, I’m just attempting to make a point. The temperature should be fairly cool and you want to get warm snuggle up in the blankets!
I awoke a little past 10 this morning. We didn’t have to be anywhere until 12:30, so I didn’t feel the need to arise any sooner. A few people went to the Pearl Market down the street, but I had no money and no room in my suitcases. I ran up and down six flights of stairs five times to serve as my exercise and then just sat on my bed for a long while. Derek and I discussed the book he was reading, The Sword of Shannara, which I had recommended to him. At 12:30, all of our bags were on the bus and we drove to the Beijing Noodle, which was the second restaurant we had eaten at when we first arrived in Beijing. We were originally scheduled to dine at a Western buffet, but a few of us (myself the leader of this group), protesting this decision, seeing as how this was our last meal in China and it would be a shame to spend it eating food we were going to eat in a day’s time. We were then taken to the Silk Market and given an hour-and-a-half to explore and shop. I wandered with Katie and Felicity, and we were hounded by the shop-owners, being dragged into stores and hearing, “For you, I have good price!” a few times too many. At 4, we were back on the bus, saying goodbye to Ran(berger), and heading to the airport. We again thanked Vincent for all he had done and said goodbye.
The check-in line took some time to get through. I kind of hid Felicity’s bag under the counter and got away without having to pay for it, choosing to carry it with me. It’s sitting in the overhead bin right now, so I guess the ruse worked. The Byrams were not flying with us because they were heading to South Korea for a few days to visit some friends. I was really tempted to change my ticket, and Dr. Byram was more than willing to help, but I figured there would be this short red-headed woman in Tennessee who would be a little upset with me. We all exchanged hugs and bid farewell. It was sad to see them go.
Rich and I sat and discussed Christianity Rediscovered and my paper on that subject until it was time to board the plane. Yet another part of this journey is ending. The next time we land we will once again be in the United States.
X-Men III just came on the big screen. And seeing as how I’ve run out of things to talk about and Rich’s laptop battery is running low, this would be a good time to take a little break.

In LAX Terminal 5
Our plane landed in Los Angeles four hours before we left Beijing. Air China Flight 983 flew out Beijing, China, at 8PM on November 17th, 2006. That same flight landed in Los Angeles, United States, at 4PM on November 17th, 2006. I suppose time-travel really is possible.
My stomach was full of butterflies as we landed. I had very mixed emotions about once again touching down in the U.S. I was looking forward to seeing my family and friends, but I just wasn't ready for this trip to be over. I came to Harding for two reasons. The first was that my two closest friends (Caleb and Daniel Meeks) were going to attend there, and the second was this trip. I was the first person to sign up for HUA, and I did so before I even committed to Harding. After a difficult experience my first semester at Harding, it was, along with my friends, the thing that kept me where I was. We all exited the plane and made our way through Immigration to the baggage claim. A few people grabbed their bags and were immediately off, rushing to catch flights. It was sad to watch everyone break apart. It really was all over, and I didn't like it. I gave Rich a hug, thanking him for the trip and this experience. He told me to make sure I come to Chicago soon. He called to William and Annie and told them to come and say goodbye to me, and William sprinted across the room, yelling, "Dohnny!" He leaped up into me, almost knocking me over. Annie raced over also. I'm going to miss those kids. I'm going to miss walking down to the Littles' apartment in Brisbane and hearing Annie say, "William! Shelby! Jonathan's here to see us!" I love that family.
It's strange to realize that after three months of travel I am back where I started. The group came together here, many of us meeting for the first time and coming with the knowledge that we were about to set out across the world. It's bittersweet returning home, and not because of anything wrong with home or the people I am going to see, but because in a month-and-a-half, when I leave my family once again, it won't be because I'm returning to Australia, New Zealand, and China. I'll never have this time of my life back again, and I sit and think about whether or not I seized every opportunity I had to make it the best that it could be. I wouldn't mind living it again.
I dropped all my bags on a cart and wheeled it across several streets to Terminal 5 where Delta is located. Ashley and I are flying to Atlanta on the same flight, and he was already there. Pierre was there also, flying on Delta, but not on the same flight. I had no wait in line and the only problem was that my big suitcase was over the weight limit. I protested, saying I was allowed out of the country with this much. It was in vain, so I had to pay $25. I'm spending more money now on extra luggage than I ever did on the whole trip. Ashley and I were supposed to meet Kevin and Greer, but we couldn't find them and decided to go ahead and pass through security. Ashley's bag set off the scanner, so they were passed through once again. A tall, elderly black man with a slow, steady gait grabbed Felicity's bag and carried it over to a counter to search it. It seemed it to had set off the alarm. Ashley grabbed his and went on through. I know it must have looked strange to this gentleman as he pulled out girl's clothing and a coin purse and a Sportsgirls Magazine. I very cunningly noted that I was aiding a friend who had too much luggage. He eventually emptied the entire bag and passed it through the detector once more, but nothing showed up this time. He helped me repack and apologized for the inconvenience.
"Son," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "you have a safe flight, all right? God bless you." I liked this guy.
He searched the wrong bag though. When Ashley's bag triggered the alarm, they passed it through. Felicity's bag was in front of it and the two are similar in appearance (the bags, not Ashley and Felicity), so when Felicity's bag came through, my friend assumed this was the one that set off the detector. I'm glad Ashley's a decent guy and didn't get away with, say, a gun.
Since that time we have been attempting to pass the time in whatever way we can. We got something to drink and watched a basketball game on TV for a while. I browsed through the magazines of one of the stores and then plopped myself on the floor next to the gate and napped. Julie appeared out of nowhere. She was leaving on the flight to Atlanta just before us, out of the same gate from which we are going. Pierre showed up, also, which is how I am able to type at this moment. Julie's flight left at 10, so the waiting shouldn't be too much longer. Poor Pierre's flight to Cincinnati doesn't leave until 12:45.
We lose three hours on this four-hour flight, which isn't actually a bag thing. I then have a three-hour layover in Atlanta before flying to Knoxville, where I will be picked up by my family and we will drive into the Appalachian Mountains to the little town of Jellico. It's a diverse world in which we live.

November 19th, 2006 Jellico, Tennessee, the United States
For some wonderful reason I had been awarded with a seat on the emergency exit row. A man in his sixties named Don, from Augusta, Georgia, sat next to me and we had a long and very good conversation. I told him about the past three months, which in turn led to a discussion of politics, which then led to a discussion of God. Strange progression, but it worked out well. Don expressed his growing distaste for the evangelical world, and I was forced to agree. I sometimes think Christians are the most discriminated against and most hated group in the world, and sadly much of the time we bring it upon ourselves. Don and I turned to the topic of grace. It is so unique to Christianity and Christians are often the worst at showing it. The point is not whether you believe homosexuality or abortion are right, we are required to portray grace and love. I was encouraged by my talk with Don, and hopefully he was also.
The plane landed in Atlanta around 6:30 and my next flight didn’t leave until 9. Ashley and I took our time making our way to our terminal (we were both flying out of the same one) and I grabbed a beautiful Cinnabon, and it was good. A flight attendant bought me a cup of hot chocolate if I let her cut ahead of me in line so she could make her flight in ten minutes. I couldn’t refuse. As my plane was boarding, I said goodbye to Ashley and headed to Knoxville.
As I rounded the corner in the Knoxville airport, my family came into view. The only one not there was my sister, who was at a youth retreat for the weekend. My mom looked expressionless me for a few seconds until she realized it was me. She squealed, which kind of scared me, and ran up as I walked up. It was good to see my family once again. Our little home of Jellico, nestled in the Appalachian Mountains, had not changed at all, and that was fine. A little bit of fall was still in the air so I could enjoy sweat-shirt weather. My dad and I ran four miles together, chatting as we went. I was able to attend my brother’s first basketball game and see some of my closest friends from high school. Later in the evening, I saw my second family, the Meeks, and my other brothers, Caleb and Daniel, who had just arrived from Harding for Thanksgiving break. It is good to be home.
But I miss Australia and New Zealand and China. I miss traveling and having somewhere new and exciting to visit each morning. I would never have those three months back again. They were officially over. And suddenly it was like it never happened. It almost felt like I had never left, and I had to look at my pictures to prove to myself that I had. I love Tennessee and my family and friends, but I wouldn’t mind going back. This time of the year, though, is a good time to come back. The holidays are close and the weather is perfect and the families will be convening to eat a whole lot of food. But in a few weeks time I will once again be ready to throw on my brown jacket, grab my green backpack, and strap on my camera, leaving my razor behind and set out to wander through this vast and beautiful world. Iceland actually doesn’t sound too bad.

THE END