Traveling to Port Lincoln

The next day we were heading to Port Lincoln.  During the night, the hotel staff slipped a notice under our door that we could check out using the television.  This sounded easy—except it didn’t work. After we finally checked out, we hailed a taxi to take us to the train station.  The train station was only several hundred yards from where we were staying, but we literally could not carry our bags that far. Between the two of us, we probably have about 80+ kilos of luggage.  When we told the cabbie we needed a ride to the train station, he became quite enraged.  “Why don’t you just walk!?  It will take you one minute!”  We told him that our luggage was too heavy to carry.  The next words that he uttered were: “The fare is $6.”  And that was that.  The problem with getting to the airport was that we needed to get our bags to the check-in counter.  After three elevator rides and much confusion, we finally made it. 

We boarded the plane that was taking us to Adelaide.  About 20 minutes before landing, a flight attendant announced that it was time to turn off all electronic devices, and that it was also “A good time to find the nearest exit.”  Kelley and I looked at each other with shock…WHAT!?  As it turns out, apparently this is just something that they say in Australia and it should not induce panic. 

In order to check our bags for the next flight, we had to retrieve them and get back in line to get our new boarding pass to get us to Port Lincoln. This is when I was first introduced to the Australian phrase, "how are you going?" which essentially equates to "how are you doing?". I didn't know this, so when the woman at the checkout counter asked me "Hello ma'am, how are you going?" I stared at her for a few seconds before hesitantly saying, "Port Lincoln?" She laughed at me being a fool, then kindly explained what she meant. 


 After going through security, we grabbed food at Hungry Jacks (a smaller chain owned by Burger King) and camped out by our gate. Adelaide is ½ an hour behind Sydney, and this constantly threw me off every time I looked at my phone (which was now known as “The Timepiece,” since all it can do is tell time) to see how much longer we had until we needed to board.

An awesome children’s show about a submarine named Olly was on, and I entertained myself with that for awhile, offering up helpful suggestions to the cute yellow animated sub whenever he was in trouble (“Can’t fit between the two icebergs at the surface? WHY DON’T YOU DIVE, YOU’RE A SUBMARINE.”). Either hunger or embarrassment at my behavior drove Maria to seek food, and when she returned I was immediately jealous.

Heaven.

I then sought the same delicacy, and after a lighthearted episode of “Sea Princesses” and a particularly moving one of “Toybox” (disclaimer: this may be the worst children’s show ever), it was time for us to board our plane.

On the plane, they served us a delicious meal of peppered bread sticks and pumpkin mush (I didn’t eat it).

Looks fancy...

... Like baby food...

The flight was quick, and soon we landed at the smallest airport… in the world.

We tried to enter the building through the wrong door, completely ignoring a posted sign telling us not to enter that way. Thankfully, our embarrassing situation was only seen by EVERYONE IN THE BUILDING. I almost expected them to applaud us when we actually walked around and went through the right door.

The sign we ignored.

We grabbed a taxi and went to the Port Lincoln Hotel.

After checking in, we got a quick dinner and raced over to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. HAHA! WE SAW IT BEFORE IT WAS RELEASED IN THE U.S. HAHA!

The theater was massive, cold, and everyone in the movie sounded like they had taken a hit of helium before their scenes, but nonetheless we saw it before you all. So there.

We asked the woman at the check-in counter if we could walk to the harbor the next day for our “Swim with the Tuna” expedition. She said no, but we did it anyway.