We arrived at the San Diego Old Town Station at around 12:00 noon for our 12:15pm train, with tickets in hand. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and the typical 70 degree temperature. After saying goodbye to our children, who would be spending the next 2 weeks with their grandparents, we joined the other passengers who were lined up on the platform with luggage in tow.
The train arrived promptly at 12:13pm, at which time we boarded the train with instructions from the conductor to continue to the upstairs to the general boarding area to find our chosen seats. I helped Elizabeth stow her massive suitcase filled with most of our belongings into the luggage rack and followed the other passengers up the stairs to the second floor. I looked around to find the best seats for our two and a half hour trip to Los Angeles Union Station. I always preferred to seat facing the direction that the train is traveling in, while also sitting on the left side of the car, where you have a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean as it travels the San Diego and Orange County coastlines. Unfortunately, however, all of the ocean view seats were taken and we would have to look across the train, if we wanted to see the Pacific Ocean.
Once we found our seats, Elizabeth settled in with her watercolor paints and paper and began creating masterpieces for her long awaited book of illustrations for a children’s book. I would go on to spend the next few hours looking out the window at the different cities along the way and occasionally practicing my language lessons on Duolingo.
As you travel north, you pass through the backsides of a number of cities including Oceanside, San Juan Capistrano, and Anaheim, while also getting a peek at the beach cities of Del Mar, San Onofre, and San Clemente. As you travel passed the nuclear power plant and enter Orange County, you know that more than a third of your trip is over and you are well on your way to Downtown Los Angeles. The urban sprawl of the city is the least scenic thing you will see along the way and it reminds you that while southern California is depicted as pristine paradise, there is an ugly, underbelly lurking behind the facade.
As we pulled into Union Station, Elizabeth began talking to young woman, in a leopard print top who lived in Australia and grew up in the Gold Coast (one of the places that would be visiting). The news media had depicted Australia’s bushfires in a similar way as they would California’s wild fires, in that thousands of square miles were being consumed like the Book of Revelation portrays Hell. As California residents, we knew that things were never as bad as they seemed and that while the fire damage might be extreme in some areas, conditions could seem completely normal 500 miles away. One friend insisted that we cancel our whole trip just two days before our flight. While vacationing in hell didn’t seem like a great idea for relaxation, it would definitely be an unforgettable experience.
The young woman explained to Elizabeth that things would be fine and that we would have a great trip. After we stepped off the train we parted ways as we went off to find the Flyaway Bus and apparently found a way to get to Canada in the completely opposite direction.
The Flyaway Bus stop is through the main train station and up to the ground level, while tickets can be purchased at a kiosk with other city bus tickets inside the station. The bus arrives every 30 minutes, so if you have some time, you can stop at Subway or Wetzels Pretzels, if you need something to tide you over until it arrives. Elizabeth opted for a veggie sandwich from Subway.
When the bus arrived, we zippered in with the other awaiting passengers, and handed our massive suitcase over to the drive, to load under the large, white coach bus. As we boarded, I slide into the first seat and enjoyed the perspective of seeing our short trip to the airport like I was watching and unobscured movie rather than a packed in claustrophobic nightmare.
The bus trip from Union Station to LAX is only about 30-45 minutes depending on traffic, because it does travel on the freeway. Our trip was somewhere in between, because while the 2pm, Los Angeles, rush hour had begun, we hadn’t yet reach the pinnacle of stand still carpool lane traffic.
We arrived at the International Terminal five hours before our boarding time, so while we were in no danger of missing our flight, we were in danger of not having anything to do before check-in which wasn’t until four hours before our flight. After taking a walk around the expansive International Terminal to find where the Fiji Airways check-in counter would be located we gave up and opted to eat at the Planet Hollywood, which was easily found in the back corner of the building.
While you wouldn’t think much from airport dining, the menu did have a pretty decent veggie burger. While I looked at the television monitor next to our table, gazing at the photos of the celebrities that attended the open, Elizabeth was on the phone to her mother, who was child and house sitting for us. “You hold down the green button to turn it off…” she explained while shaking her head. I think that the printer only has a few buttons, so I don’t really know what the problem was, but Elizabeth was ready to distance herself from such problems. And she was only 4 hours away.
After we ate our meal, we went over to the newly formed Fiji Airways counter that had formed, where Air France once had been. A line had already begun, as native Fijian’s stood with large suitcases stacked high on luggage carts, perhaps filled with essential American goods that are hard to find in Fiji or Christmas presents that would have otherwise needed to be shipped with heavy tariffs. For while the line appeared to be long, there were maybe only 20-25 people actually standing near their luggages carts.
As we made our way to the front of the line, we were greeted by a native Los Angelo, who could probably pass for someone of Pacific Island ancestry. She looked us up by our passports and after confirming our seats, she asked us if we had our travel visas. Frozen, we looked in fear at one another, “Uh, what travel visas?” we inquired. “You need to have approved Australia travel visa’s before you can board this flight. You were required to fill it out online and then present it today. It can take up to 24 hours for approval.” We were dead. Our hearts had stopped beating and our chests compressed. How could we have not been aware of this? In all of our research and planning, we never heard of such a requirement. Would we have to leave and try to have our flight re-booked? “I can authorized your visa here, for a $70 fee. Would you like to do that?” She asked, as if there was another option for us at this point. “Yes, of course!” we replied. “It will take a few minutes for it to process and then you should receive an email.” We gave her our email addresses and within a few minutes, we had the travel visas that were required to go to Australia. After we showed her our emails on our phones, she agreed to let us check in our bag and get our tickets to Fiji, however, we would have to get our tickets to Australia at the gate. Elizabeth, still a little shell shocked, started asking unnecessary questions, but there really was no reply. We would need to continue to the gate and hope that everything would be settled by the time we made it through security.
With our boarding pass in hand, we continued up the escalators to the International security check point. We had our backpacks free from unauthorized items, so outside of a little waiting, we should have been able to pass right through. Unfortunately, however, Elizabeth was stopped for a random bag search, in which nothing was found and we were able to continue on our way. We went up to the gate were we found a few chairs and settled in for the next few hours. As we slowly became more and more exhausted, we were well on our way to sleeping during our 10 hour, red-eye flight. A short time later, an announcement was made for us and we went to the counter to get our Australia ticket. We could rest easy, know that we would be able to continue on our way.
The gate slowly filled with more and more people to a point that things felt a little overwhelming. There were a few groups gathered together that I assumed were on a Christian mission trip, because they had name tags that implied that they were on a trip to do a services of some sort. As pre-boarding began, things felt a little different than other airlines. While most airlines that I flight have group numbers or zone number in which passengers are called to begin boarding from the front of the plane back. Fiji Airways would have passengers enter from the back of the plane to the front, after priority boarding. This meant that pretty much everyone thought that they were the one’s being called, as rows 25-40 was made up of almost 100 people. A line began snaking around the boarding area 3 or 4 people wide, who seemed to be bottlenecking towards the one person that was checking the tickets.
Upon boarding things seemed to be running smoothly, Elizabeth and I had choose row 12 on the far right side of the plane, where she was seated by the window and I was seated in the aisle, across from the people packed into the middle seats. While there was a large selection of movies and shows, Fiji Airways didn’t appear to offer internet on the plane. I hardly seemed to notice, because after watching Goodfellas, I slept most of the rest of the way through the flight, outside of our two meals.
What was great about this flight was that, while in some of our past international flights, you needed to request a vegetarian meal 24 hours prior to your flight, each person was asked their preference as meals were being handed out. I had stopped at an airport pizza shop prior to boarding, just in case, but I ended up eating most of what I was given throughout the flight. The dinner was this sort of tray of spinach, mushrooms, onions, and potatoes, paired with a sandwich cookie. Breakfast was waffles and a side of yogurt. You can only expect so much for these meals, but they were edible and if nothing else, they helped me get much needed rest.