World's Longest Flight

I'm currently on the way from Papua New Guinea to South Carolina. I wonder if I'm the first person ever to travel from PNG to SC. I doubt it. I find South Carolinians in the oddest of places. I left Lae at 5pm on Tuesday night and flew to Port Moresby (1 hour) on Air Niugini. I left Port MOresby at 11am on Wednesday morning and flew to Brisbane (3 hours) on Air Niguini. I flew from Brisbane to Singapore (8 hours)on Qantas. I flew from Singapore to Amsterdam on KLM (13 hours) and I'm awaiting my KLM flight from Amsterdam to Detroit (10 hours) that then transfers to Charlotte (3 hours) where Alyson's friend Michele will pick me up and drive me to Columbia (1 1/2 hours).

Air Niugini B+
Qantas A
KLM B+

I've been mostly in center seats the entire way. On the Air Niguini flight from Lae, I saw an amazing rainbow. On the Air Niugini flight to Australia, I noticed that we had jungle survival gear on board (it was labeled so). On the Singapore flight, an older man fainted or collapsed in the aisle causing quite a stir 4 hours in. He recovered and is fine according to the flight attendants. What awaits me as I cross the Atlantic?

Things about my father

Lived in Turkey, Lived in Greece, Lived in Taiwan, Lived in London, Lived in Wyoming (probably the roughest of them all since it was 1964). Lived in Belgium. Lived in South Carolina which he loved the most since there was no snow shoveling required, unlike Iowa where he grew up.

Loves cats. We've had a few: A siamese cat my mother and father had in Taiwan who used to swim in the bathtub. Iargo, a black cat that he rescued in Belgium. When he was run over by a car, we buried in the woods where the bluebells bloom. Sheba - another Siamese. I used to dress her in ballerina clothes. Spike- the tabby cat who loved my dad. When he was ill and old, my father chopped cantalope and shrimp for him to eat. Dante - my cat that went to live with my dad when I went to Guatemala. They were two grey haired old men together. And now George - the cat my father was destined to have. A sweet orange cat who won't take no for an answer.

Worked in a bowling alley in Los Angeles. Picked apples in Washington State. Worked in a motel in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Joined the Air Force to see the world (and avoid being drafted into Korea).

Loved my mother. Madly. Was a total ass to her on their first date (or so the mythology goes) but knew from the moment that he saw her that he was going to marry her. Met her on his birthday, October 27, got engaged on Valentine's Day, and married in July 27th. Engraved her wedding ring with WAML - meaning with all my love.

An amazing dancer- loved to dance and when we went to Guatemala, I was ready to leave the disco before he was. The same thing happened to us in Swindon, he made up muchlater than the young kids.

Voracious reader - read Ulysses for the nasty bits. Loves police procedural novels and we share a passion for fantasy novels like the Diana Gabaldon ones.

Loves the Sioux. Growing up wanted to be a Sioux indian chief. His stepmother was a pottawattame indian from Missouri. He grew up in Iowa and Minnesota.

First impressions of Papua New Guinea

I'm currently in Lae, Papua New Guinea - a port town and the second largest city in PNG (as its abbreviated). Calling it a city, however is a bit presumptious. There don't appear to be any buildings taller than 3 stories and its quite spread out. I'm posting a few photos from todays "Fun Run" that I participated in where we walked through the city dressed in green and yellow teeshirts with thousands of others. More impressions to come later.

Photos from the "FUN RUN":

The military men join in running in cadence and singing.


Orange boots keep the mud out!

Dutch Immersion: Bike Prison

I stupidly parked my bike in an illegal spot last Wednesday. This morning, Corinne and I traveled out to Sloterdijk to AFAC, the "bike prison" to retrieve my little Gazelle. Here's some photos from our trip.

Further signs of integration

I parked illegally in front of the train station in a rush this morning. When I got back this afternoon, my bike was gone!!! I can only hope its at this place in Sloterdijk (my favorite place name) where all bad bicycles get towed too. I'm praying that because most of the bikes that were parked there at 8am are gone, that it was towed and not stolen....

Ugh. A bike ride home from Sloterdijk. That's not a pleasant thought.

Happy 4th of July!

Bush Tours America To Survey Damage Caused By His Disastrous Presidency