Fight and Long Flight

Good afternoon from the eastern suburb of Lysterfield in Melbourne. I've been here for 3 days now, trying to acclimatise and settle in. It is as difficult as I predicted, with some up and down moments already to speak of, and I am under no illusions how difficult the next week or two is going to be.

Leading up to Wednesday morning, I was surprisingly not very nervous. I typed out my last post with the thinking that I might not actually need it, (that turned out to be false), and the nerves only hit when my Dad left me at Heathrow Airport at roughly 7am, giving me one last hug before I walked through to departures. Sitting there, I was in high spirits. I was about to leave on the adventure of a lifetime. What was there to be nervous about? When I finally made it on board my first flight, EY012 to Abu Dhabi, I was excited. My one and only time on a plane was 12 years ago, and I couldn't remember what the take off was like. It wasn't even much of an anti-climax either as I officially left English tarmac and high into the air. However, that was where the magic ended. The flight wasn't great, with Etihad Airways not offering much in the way of leg room. I was sitting next to the window, with a Japanese woman knocked out on sleeping pills next to me, so it was quite hard to get her to budge so I could walk around. For 7 hours, I was cramped in a small space with only the in-flight "E-Box" to keep me entertained. 'After Earth' was the only good film they had. I couldn't put up with much more than 10 minutes of 'The Internship'.

Disembarking at Abu Dhabi International Airport then was a blessing, with legs aching and pins and needles setting in, I needed a major walk around. I was already way further than I had ever been before, all on my own and with next to no experience of how airports actually worked, I basically followed two people who I had overheard were also going to Melbourne. Walking through security, I was tired and a little agitated, especially after I threw all my belongings in one of those trays, walked through the detectors, and to the other side, to find my iPod had somehow vanished. Great.

The three-hour wait was okay as I was able to jump on the internet and chat to a few people from home. Soon though it was time to start the 2nd leg of the journey. Which was quite possibly the worst 14 hours of my life. I was sat in an aisle seat this time, so it would be easier to get up and walk around, but whilst being packed in like sardines, the flight just went on and on and on and on... I had purchased some sleeping pills from Heathrow, and in a last-ditch attempt to try and make the time disappear, downed a couple and felt myself sink into the rather uncomfortable chair I had been provided with...

Waking up, I could see the sun bursting through the small crack in the window that the Australian lady sitting next to me had left whilst pulling the blind across. It had worked. The sleeping pills had done their job, as I had gone to sleep with 11 hours of the flight still remaining. Logging in to the E-Box in front of me, I was hoping to see that there was a couple of hours remaining and I would be there.

Clicking on 'Flight Path' with my heart jumping out my chest, I watched the loading bar get to 100% before the time remaining section flashed up.

8 hours 20 minutes remain. You have got to be kidding me.

Landing in Melbourne then was something I thought was never going to happen. I was firmly convinced I was going to be in the air forever. But when the plane did eventually land, I was extremely tired. Tired and very nervous. I had been speaking to the two guys who were due to pick me up from the airport, but it suddenly dawned on me that I was about to meet them. What do I say? What do I do?

This was when the irrational side of me kicked in. I suddenly found myself in the back seat of the car, driving past the city of Melbourne on the way to my new home for the next six months. Apparently, a lot of the players from the club I'm playing for were waiting for me in the clubhouse. Upon arrival, my heart rate was through the roof and walking in through the front door to find 30 faces looking in my direction made me feel a bit like a celebrity. There was a moment of silence before something inside me said, "Ice Breaker... Ice Breaker..."

"F**k me, someone get me a beer!"

I don't even drink a lot of beer. A few laughs circled the room as I went round shaking people's hands. I might have come across as someone who was uber-confident, but inside I was absolutely shaking. Someone then tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a can. Of Jack Daniels and Coke. Bliss. It was just what I needed. I had about 4 or 5 cans, becoming naturally more and more sociable after each one, with someone even offering a night out in the city. It was tempting, but even I wasn't going to stretch that far, as we made our way to my abode for the next 6 months.

This house is unbelievable. Its very common for houses in Australia to be big, and this one is no different, with a large garden and a pool. I have my own room on one side of the house, with a size about 4 times as big as my own room at home and a very comfortable double bed that came in handy as I crashed upon getting in from the introductions at the clubhouse.

Since then, I've been fighting. Fighting with my own insecurities to get settled in and feel comfortable. I constantly walk around, struggling to find things to do and I feel very quiet and reserved. Anxiety and jetlag are not a good combination. The only time I felt at least a little bit at ease was yesterday, during AFL Grand Final Day. A huge day in the Aussie sporting calendar, the grand final of the premier Aussie Rules competition brings Australia together. These guys start drinking at midday and carry on until they can't pack any more away. Despite tiredness, I got involved and bought a crate of cans (JD and coke cans - of course), and it was a good day. I eventually got the hang of the rules after the 1st quarter, and backed the underdogs, Fremantle, (affectionately known as 'Freo' by the Aussies who have a habit of shortening everything!), but they ultimately lost. Not that it mattered. It was a good day of socialising, with me, making sure not to go overboard on the alcohol, merely laughing at a few of the others, who did.

I got home at roughly midnight and crashed in my bed again, but it was only a couple of hours before I was completely awake. A sudden feeling of fear had washed over me, and an irrational thought process began in where I contemplated why I was out here. It was a rough time last night, about 5 hours of negative thinking and battling the demons. I was expecting them, but nothing can quite prepare you for the strength of the thoughts. I can imagine these thoughts will come and go within the next couple of weeks. And its not going to be nice. The main problem is the Aussie sense of humour. They like to crack a joke, "take the piss" and "banter". Its all they do, and for someone who is new to the situation, its hard to know when they are being serious. There was a moment during Friday when I laughed at what I thought was a joke and it wasn't. Frankly, I'm bordering on being a nervous wreck.

I just have to keep reminding myself that things are going to get better. My first training session is on Tuesday, followed by a probable indoor game on Wednesday, another training session on Thursday and the first league game on Saturday. Hopefully, I can immerse myself fully in these activities and all of a sudden, I'll be well on my way.

But right at this moment, I am struggling. I was always going to wasn't I...