Watching the planes take off and land

I took a side trip this weekend. Went to Moncton, NB with my brother. Good times. Met up with my parents and uncle Lloyd at the airport, then drove to Sussex, NB to see my Grandmother for her 79th birthday.

Learned a few things.

1) Never pre-program a phone for the partially blind elderly. Within 5 minutes, my grandmother had phoned and then hung up on 911. This leads to RCMP visits to the house, despite the return phone call from the 911 operator and an explanation and apology from my father.

2) My life sometimes really is like a movie. Walking out of a restaurant on Saturday evening, we 'bumped into' a 2nd cousin. (Lloyd would be the only one to know this as he lives in Sussex with my grandmother.) I have never been in a situation in my life where "Hey, meet your second cousin" seems to frequently come out of someone's mouth AND refer to me! Then on a drive through the outskirts of Sussex, my uncle led us into a driveway of a semingly deserted house - and started clearing the driveway of pipes and metal. Out pops a man from inside the house, most likely wondering who is in their yard, and low and behold - another 2nd cousin. I never grew up around my extended family.

3) I miss flying.

Earlton, Ontario. Home of the oversized faux-Buffalo (or Bison) sitting outside the good ol' Earlton Zoo. My hometown from birth through grade 2. This is a town of roughly 1000 people I would say, nothing much really goes on in this town. But I have some very fond memories of my childhood in Earlton. Most of which come from my backyard.

I grew up on the Earlton airport. Literally. The runway was almost our backyard. Kept at a safe distance by a metal link fence that stood no more than a meter tall. My dad is an air traffic controller and used to work at the 'tower' on the airport ('tower' because it was more of a one story house...you could see enough from that place). A hop, skip and a jump away from our house, which was one of three on the airport.

Cessnas were parked all around our property. We loved it. We walked around looking at the planes all the time. We knew the pilots who owned them, and often had the opportunity to go up for a ride. I thought I had the greatest life back then. This constant sense of adventure was abundant all around me. It was thrilling. Watching planes take off and land from our kitchen window or back porch. When a plane left - you never knew where it was going to go. Somewhere new. Somewhere exciting. In my head, it was always a grandiose adventure. I loved it.

As I got older, that feeling never went away. At York University, our residence was below a flight path to the airport. I loved hearing the planes soar overhead and often watched them for as long as I could from my 6th floor window, until they disappeared along the horizon. I always wanted to be one of those passengers on the plane. I would sit and imagine what it would be like to be them and try to figure out who they were, where they were going and why they chose that destination. What drove them? What were they looking for on this trip?

What am I looking for on this trip? My heart aches in a way that is quite difficult to put into words. The ache associated with anticipation, excitement and anxiety all in one perhaps? I have dreamt of this trip for a decade. I have sat watching planes from the tower in North Bay or watching them take off from the 401 hwy in Toronto, always wondering when my moment would come to be that passenger on that plane with some grandiose adventure in the forefront of my mind.

That built up moment of anticipation right before something you have always dreamed of actually becomes a reality. It's quite possibly the best feeling in the world. You want to vomit from the butterflies, scream with excitement, cry because you are overjoyed, and just dance and jump around.

I just want to jump around. The butterflies are beating my insides so hard, I can barely breathe.

33 days.

1 month and 3 days. At this exact moment - we would be in Vancouver waiting for our connection to Auckland.

In 1 month and 3 days - a dream will realize. In a year from now, I'll re-read this post and think back to what I was feeling on those last few days before stepping onto that plane in July. I don't want this feeling to end - but I know it will. I'm trying to capture it all inside before it disappears through the trip.

My feet are still safely planted in Canada right now - I have no idea what I'm up against. But I've never been one to let obstacles get in my way. I think that this may be one of the greatest physical challenges I put my body through.

I just can't wait to get on that plane.


There is something beautiful about flying. Being up in the sky is something else. You are strapped in a seat in a giant aerodynamic metal box that climbs above 40000 feet, for hours you sit and watch the world below you, through breaks in the cloud, the colours of the ground start to punch through. And you realize how beautiful the world looks from this priviledged position in the sky. Patchworks of colour.


Side thought: Gearing up for our landing into Moncton, a thought occured to me at 18390feet. Your personal television (that is inserted into the back of the seat in front of you) showcases a live map of your flight which indicates the speed at which you are travelling as well as the altitude. Watching the altitude drop, it doned on me - Mt. Everest is 29, 035 feet tall. When you're up that high in the sky - you get a better idea of how ginourmous this mountain really is. Incredible. On our return trip to Toronto - I took notice of what the world looked like from 30,000 feet. I wonder sometimes if Brent and I will think about going through Nepal one day to see the Himalayas.


The weekend proved to be a wonderful time. It was nice to get back in a plane...and I'm really happy that I'll be back on one in just over a month's time.

Tick tock my friend.

I move in 2 weeks.


Our next post will focus on our gear update (complete with pictures) as well as some wonderful stories about people who have done incredible things for us. These are the people who remind us how excited we are about this trip - when we realize how much bigger it is than we ever imagined. Little blessings that we are so grateful for.