Just a very quick post from the Orlando Airport… We’ve had a great time in Florida, and I’m pleased to report that the Astronaut Training Experience at Kennedy was EVERYTHING I DREAMED. You’ll be hearing all about it later. (And oh yeah, I took plenty of pictures.) The eighty-degree weather was nice too, especially after the snow of Indiana. Now we’re heading back to Chicago and going straight to Wrigley to catch a Cubs game this arvo. Back into the cold!

Happy Easter! I think everyone in northern Indiana is at church except for us. (We’re heathens.)

It was like a scene from a movie. It was Monday morning and we hopped in the taxi to go to the airport. “You want to check and make extra-special sure we have the tickets?” I joked to the Snook. He got them out and had a look. “Uh, something’s wrong,” he said. He handed the itinerary up to me. I looked at our flight time, nope, all good there. Then the day: SUNDAY. As in: 24 hours previously. “WHAT? This has to be a mistake.” No, my friends, we friggin’ got the date wrong. I wish I were making this up. I hyperventilated all the way to the airport where we frantically called our travel agent Nick. I also found an Internet terminal and was able to trace down the mistake. We’d originally planned to go on the Monday and Nick had e-mailed through the itinerary. Then when we’d actually gone in to pay for the tickets, we discovered availability to leave the previous day. So we switched it. When I made my super-duper anal Google spreadsheet of all the trip details, though, I unthinkingly based it off the original e-mail. Hence, we ended up at the airport 24 hours after our flight had left.

I’ve got nothing but great things to say about Nick at Flight Centre and David at Qantas, though. The two of them were able to switch around our tickets (at, yeah, a not inconsiderable cost) and get us on the Monday flight. We also had to spend about seven hours hanging around San Francisco airport yesterday. But we’re here and everything’s okay. We made it.

Be sure to always check your paper tickets, kids.

The bags are packed and the taxi’s been ordered. We’re off! America, here we come…

I’m finalizing the details of our stay in Orlando next month(!). We get in on the evening of Tuesday the 10th, and we fly out on Monday the 16th. I was looking at staying in a Disney Hotel, but JEEZ they’re expensive! Mousesavers.com recommended this place instead, and that’s what I’m leaning towards. (Especially since it’s right across the road from Celebration; I’ve always wanted to go there!) So I’m thinking we stay there throughout that week and do the touristy stuff. We do have the Astronaut thing on the 12th, which unfortunately means (I think) that the multi-day Disney tickets that save you money aren’t going to be any good for us, since we wouldn’t be going to the parks on consecutive days. The Snook’s not a huge thrill-ride guy, so I’m thinking we can give Universal a miss. (Though I went there in 2000 and LOVED it.) So I’m thinking maybe one day at the Magic Kingdom, and then another day at Epcot. Normally I’d give the MK a pass since I’ve been there before (and Rodd went to the one at EuroDisney), but then again he’s never ridden the Haunted Mansion and neither of us have been on Splash Mountain. Neither of us have been to Epcot, and I think we’d like that. Is Animal Kingdom worth going to? I like the sound of Expedition Everest, but the rest doesn’t sound too spectacular. I’ve done MGM before and – though I might be able to drag the Snook onto the Tower of Terror – I doubt he’d enjoy it much. Any thoughts or suggestions? (We’ll probably spend that Saturday/Sunday with my relatives.)

No, really. That was the only traffic-related incident of the weekend, though, so I’m going to chalk this one up in the “Win” column. We got into the Blue Mountains pretty easily Friday and made our way to the Melaleuca Chalets. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we noticed that it was frickin’ freezing. Mountains are cold, yo! At Reception we figured out that we were the first arrivals and picked up the key. “We’ve got the fire going in your chalet,” the owner told us. SWEEEEEET. And there it was, perched up on a hill: the Rosewood Chalet, also known as the Cutest Accommodation Ever. It was this tiny wooden cabin with a wood stove, kitchenette, double bedroom, bathroom, and kids’ room with bunks. Oh, and cable TV. We were in heaven. And get this – there were kangaroos all over the property. They’d just bounce right up around your cabin. How weird is that? A really big one hopped out near the resort’s driveway and I nearly drove off the road. It’s like staying in a zoo!

The rest of the gang arrived not long after us and we all got ready for Steve’s wedding. This is when tragedy struck – I felt a telltale tingle in my lip. The stress of getting my license and planning for this trip gave me a goddamn cold sore! I spent the next eight hours frantically rubbing Zovirax on at every opportunity but it was all for naught. That’s why I didn’t take any pictures; I was a horrible scabrous leper the whole time! (Not really, but I’m still gonna airbrush any pictures the other guys send me.)

Okay, the wedding. I offered to drive a group down in our rental car, not realizing that I’d end up doing blind hairpin turns in mist and rain both up and down a friggin’ mountain (and at night, to boot!). The ceremony was held in Cathedral Cave, which required fifteen minutes of climbing steps, ducking down passageways, navigating very short tunnels. (The sight of old people spelunking in evening wear is one I’ll never forget.) The cave itself was beautiful, though I have to admit we were disappointed that Steve and Kate didn’t take advantage of the high ceiling and rickety ladder to attempt a “bride rappels in from above” entrance. We all stood and watched as they exchanged their vows, tying colored ribbons on each other’s wrists and swapping rings. Afterwards we made our way back to the Chalets, hoping to glug some champagne before the reception. The rain and the darkness contributed to some missed turns though, so we barely made it there before the bus came to pick us up again. Then it was over to Duckmaloi Park Lodge for the reception festivities. Many hours and bottles of champagne later, we crashed back at the chalet and huddled as the loud mountain wind tried to blow the roof off.

Saturday started late (as you might expect), and after breakfast there was some debate about what to do to fill the afternoon. Many were in favor of a cave tour, but the Snook and I passed in favor of more metrosexual delights: a three-hour session at SpaRadise. (Rodd’s co-worker Hank went there a few months ago and recommended the place.) This is when the Snook decided it was time for him to take the wheel. He did really well! Once we got there we relaxed in the indoor hot-water bath; we sucked in eucalyptus in the Herbal Steam Room; and we enjoyed a few moments of sunshine (and an incredible rainbow) in the outdoor hot bath. The Snook even waded into the cold water pool a few times, though I couldn’t stand it for more than a couple seconds. We each had a half hour massage too, and I’m happy to report once again that the Asian masseuses are all about my ass. Because you know you were wondering.

Saturday night we got dressed up for the Bollywood Dinner Party and the Snook did some very creative facial hair manipulation. (Other people took photos; I’m sure I’ll post one.) I went overboard on the eye makeup in the hopes of distracting everyone from the second head growing on my bottom lip. We were pretty wiped out though, so after partaking of some of Steve’s yummy, yummy curry, we headed back to the chalet for some rest. We closed out the weekend this morning with a huge group pancake breakfast and a stop off in Leura to visit the world famous Candy Store. Fueled by Jersey Caramels, Sherbies, and Nutter Butter Bites, the ride home to Sydney just flew by…

And there in the bedroom window was our adorable Puss-Puss, waiting for us to come home. Big thanks to Amy for stopping by to check on her…

What? Oh, right, the dead wombat. That was this morning on our way out of the mountains. The sun was finally shining and I was admiring the scenery and thinking how relaxed I was with my driving and how wind-y the road was and how I felt like I was in a car commercial and wondering what song would be playing in the commercial, when suddenly Rodd went: “Wombat.” and I looked down to notice what looked like a big-ass rock at the side of the road right before we THUMPED over it. “OH MY GOD, I HIT IT!” “It was already dead,” he said. Still, that’s the first wombat I’ve seen outside the zoo and I defiled its carcass. I was really bummed out… (until we got to the candy shop).