A delay, a tackle and a ‘welcome home’ balloon

It has been ONE MONTH – an entire month since landing at Sydney International Airport and arriving home after a year of being away from my life here. Now, before I can delve into how it has been being back, I must first share the actual story of arriving at the airport. Trust my luck, of course it didn’t go as I (and everyone else) expected.

Going straight into it, I land, I’m happy, elated even, walking through the airport I know so well. After taking a breath to have a quick look at Duty Free wine prices (I’m most certainly not in Spain anymore $$$) and NOT purchasing anything, I head to the bathrooms. I get changed into the horribly embarrassing T-shirt that I was instructed to wear upon arrival by my best friend – her Christmas present to me, so nice – freshened up as best I could (aka somewhat unsuccessfully) after 24 hours of transit and then asked a lovely gentleman to help me with retrieving my luggage(s) off the carousel. Buzzing, slightly anxious, insanely excited, I walk straight through customs, pushing my trolley passed the sliding doors.

Let’s pause for a second here. We all know how this is supposed to go right? I walk out, parents and closest friends eagerly awaiting my arrival, balloon in hand, the whole run up and suffocating hugs, yeah? Okay, glad we’re on the same page here. Let’s now resume.

Walking down the ramp, trying to play it cool, I scan the small crowd gathered at the bottom. Thinking that they have their eyes on me, watching my every move, I continued my ‘calm and collected’ act, but I knew I was running out of ramp, and I still hadn’t spotted them. LO AND BEHOLD, no one was there to welcome me home. I awkwardly wheeled my trolley to the cluster of seats to the side, slightly embarrassed at how I felt earlier, connected to the free WiFi and buzzed mum on FB.

“Mum, where are you?”
“Hello! Oh, we’re at the gate! Where are you?”
“… No you’re not, because I’m here at the gate! … Are you at the wrong one?”
“Oh! Okay! We’re nearly there!”

…. Well that was SLIGHTLY ANTI-CLIMACTIC. We’re all thinking it. Still trying to ‘play it cool’, I just stand there awkwardly, eyes glued to my screen as I pretend to browse FB, totally blazé. Perhaps no more than 2 minutes later, I am tackled by Emilie (yes, balloon in hand) followed closely by Ellen and my parents. So you know, I did get my suffocating hugs and my balloon; they were all just a little delayed.


I’m sure you’re all wondering why, WHY weren’t they there to begin with? This is the best part in my opinion. The four of them were in the car, on time might I add, and about to park. The story went downhill when my parents decided to have a petty argument on which level of the car park to park on. That was IT. If they had just gone with their first option, they would have for sure, made it and the whole dramatic (cliché) ‘welcome home Angelica!’ would have happened. Ah trust. To add to it, my friend Steph was also late but her car broke down, so this is an excusable reason. She got the run-up dramatic hug ft. screams and OMGs though. At least I got that right? Haha

In saying all of this, I really cannot picture it going any other way. OF COURSE, because it’s ME we’re talking about here, something haaaad to happen not according to plan. If anything, it just made it that little bit more memorable. I mean, I didn’t want the same old boring cliché greeting that every one else would have gotten anyway.. right?

This started off as a blog that was supposed to talk about transitioning back into reality, but it only seemed right to share this story first. All I’m going to say on that matter is,

I am happy to be home.

*Please note that yes, yes I did get a desperately needed haircut the very next day. Thank goodness. 

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