Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.

After spending 34 hours traveling I have finally made it to Australia. It took 5 planes, 3 trains, and 4 automobiles to get here. 


The hardest part thus far has been saying good bye to my family. Sunday night prior to leaving everyone came over to say their goodbyes. Early Monday morning was the drive to Holland with my mom and sisters. Waiting in the station I was able to snap a few pictures and embrace in a few hugs, but the train came so quickly. After months of preparation and years of anticipation, it was finally here. We headed out to the tracks and the train came barreling through. Things happened so quickly after that. Final hugs and long glances were given and onto the train it was. Steph, carrying one of my suitcases, came onto the train with me and given the limited amount of space she was trapped on the train with the conductor. I laughed all the way up to my seat. I wish she could have stayed on the train with me. I was unsure as to whether or not she actually made it back on land with Mom, Danni, and Taylor. But then there she was again, parading around the pavement  peering into the windows to spot me. Once I did catch her eye with the waving of my hand, it was showtime. She chased the train waving her hands in the air as if she had missed it. I miss them. 


Then there was the train ride. Three and a half hours to Chicago with Marijke. As the train rolled on over the intersected streets, I watched the people in the cars and trucks waiting for the train to pass and for the guard rails to go up. They waited with such anticipation. Everyone knows how that goes. You wait, your hands gripped so tightly as if the tighter the grip, the faster the train will go. Sometimes you even count and as the number of boxcars increases the more annoyed you become. I remember looking at those people and thinking, "hey, this is no ordinary train, you can't get mad. I'm going to Australia and this is my first mode of transport!" To the uninformed eye it was just a normal train rolling one car after another making them late for their doctor's appointment, but to me, this train meant everything.


In Chicago I thought, "wow already in Chicago, this ain't so bad, I'll be there soon enough." Boy, was I wrong. Looking back,  I feel as though I spent the most time there. Once we (Marijke and I) arrived at Union Station, we had to catch the "L" as she called it. First time in Chicago, I wasn't sure what this meant, but I found out soon enough. The "L" is short or abbreviated for elevated. Let's just say that we had my two 50 lb. suitcases as well as hers, with backpacks plus a guitar. Going up the stairs I 'bout died when Marijke fell over on the stairs. It brought me back to the old days when we were uncoordinated and awkward and made a habit out of ungraceful moves. At first I thought she broke her guitar but we ended up in fine shape and made it to the top. Waiting for the train I had hoped to snap a few pictures.  I attempted to number each mode of transport by taking a picture of myself with the corresponding number of fingers. This fell through when, once again, a train  came barreling through and it was time to get on. Sitting on the "L" with all the metropolitan sophisticates, I reassured myself of the plans I have to settle down in the country. City life just ain't for me.


Chicago part 2 coming soon!