After approximately 40 hours of travel and less than three hours of neck stiffening sleep, I arrived at my final destination. After a rejuvenating shower I had enough energy to make the 50cm vertical leap required to capture this photograph! Then promptly fell asleep in a heap on a mattress, not someone's floor or fold-out sofa, no no… a real life mattress!
My A380 home - Local time 10pm (awake 14 hours)
Copyright James Hill 2009
Cattle class - It was war over the armrest with the lady to my left... She fought long and hard, but I was victorious
Jet-lagged in Singapore - Local time 8pm (awake 32 hours)
Copyright James Hill 2009
The swaying motion of the train makes my eyelids notoriously heavy.
Why is it that I cannot ride any transport without passing out? Cheek pressed up against the window, drooling on my jumper and generally looking like a tramp riding the final train for warmth & shelter.
I focus my drowsy blurred vision beyond the window to my left, green fields drift away from the train. In the distance the tree line has the odd house poking through the woods, while various livestock munch on the sea of green grass, enjoying what can only be described as a tranquil lifestyle.
My dazed consciences is brought back to stark reality as the American sitting two seats behind me over my right shoulder calls his sweetheart from home, the time difference between him and his lover is great, he begins justifying his obviously sleep depriving call...
"I'm here and I'm strong, you give me such strength"
Perhaps he's here visiting his long lost deceased uncle or estranged relative. Whatever the scenario, he is frustratingly loud and his voice pierces my tranquil state, I wish the crying baby to my right would kick it up two octaves to make it impossible for him to continue his self centered conversation. I dream of my inner ear headphones that I lost only two days earlier on the train from Brussels to Amsterdam.
An old windmill passes by and distracts me from the carriage noise.
I chuckle to myself as the stereotypes of Holland ring true in my head. I am here visiting my dutch friend Monique for the first time in nearly a decade. Monqique stayed with us on exchange in 1999, in ten years she has barely aged. Her flawless european complexion glows as her bubbly personality cuts through even the hardest of Australian sarcasm. She is a joy to be around and I had come to photograph her for my iamjameshill project.
I munch on a Stroopwaffel and contemplate leaving the story of Monique for iamjameshill. I will.
Monique & Myself one last photo before jumping the train to Brussels.
This morning we woke early to the tinny speaker of our mobile phone alarms, obviously the wine induced slightly intoxicated james had been more optimistic about moody morning james' rising time, alas we had to power through our hazy hangovers otherwise we would miss our brunch date with Magali, Amsterdam's final 16 applicant.
Finalists: James Hill & Magali Heuberger meet up over coffee in Amsterdam - Copyright James Hill 2009
A dairy cow passes the window.
We arrive at our predetermined cafe, a quaint little place off one of Amsterdam's many picturesque canals. It's bustling with a intoxicating aromatic infusion of coffee and conversation. It reminds me of the many cafes Melbourne has on offer. Unfortunately it is all booked up and Magali leads us and Lluna her tiny pug cross french bulldog, to one of her favourite cafes just over the canal and around the corner.
Lluna
We chat about the application process and exchange congratulations on reaching the final round of such a surreal opportunity. The conversation is relaxed as we drink our breakfast juice and munch on muffins and sandwiches. We talk of the media experiences and appearances we've had, and our mutual hatred for live interviews. Magali's down-to-earth personality affords her a very grounded perspective of this opportunity, something I appreciate as it echos my own thoughts.
Our brief encounter rapidly draws to a close as my impending train from Amsterdam to Brussels awaits. We say our goodbyes through the dutch standardised three cheek kiss system, get some final directions and we're on our way, citing our next encounter to be on the banks of the Brisbane river in just over three weeks.
You stare coldly at the inanimate case that lies before you. It's already well beyond it's specified capacity, yet it taunts you to throw another shirt on the already heaped pile. Of course there are methodologies your family has subscribed to decades, foolproof techniques guaranteed to maximize luggage potential.
So who out there has the award winning techniques on squeezing that extra cubic centimeter from their rucksack? Leave your tips in the comments and help me get home! (although I've already packed).
THANK YOU!
So I've had some tremendous support over the past three months from family and friends, to businesses around London. Here's a quick shout out to those who helped along the way!
Of course a special thanks to the skeptics, cynics and naysayers out there. You guys are brilliant, you motivate and focus me in ways I couldn't imagine.