Just when you think the universe loves you and is paving your way with an international premiere, open bar tabs, and free lunches, Mother Nature sneaks up behind you, kicks you in the ass, and runs away.
Dean's plane is delayed, and I have no idea where he is, or when he'll get here. Cairns is rainy and extremely foggy today- I can't even see the mountains from my balcony- and the airport is not allowing planes to land. You might be tech-savvy, and you might be wondering why the air traffic controllers don't do their jobs and help the planes land in this mess. Well, the tower has been nonoperational for a month now, and planes have to land on sight here. The airport is surrounded by mountains, and apparently, it would be "dangerous" for the pilots to try to land.
Please. Dangerous? I was considering going bungee jumping later this week. THAT is dangerous. Aren't pilots trained to use the dials and knobs in the cockpit to make the plane work? And isn't landing the plane at least half of what they should know how to do?
I'm one of those people who, in a situation like this, immediately assumes this does not apply to me. I'm the first one headed for the rental car counter, the first one to pull up bus and train timetables on my always-functional smart phone; I am the Problem Solver.
But I'll tell you...today the Madd Skillz I have in the US aren't cutting it here. It seems Dean's plane may be grounded in Rockhampton, which- to my surprise- is a 10 hour drive from here. That would be like a flight to Columbia landing in Baltimore. This place is HUGE, in case you haven't looked at it on a map. There is no driving to the next closest airport, apparently.
My castmates are off with our director, driving up the coast to the Daintree Rain Forest, and I am in my hotel room, looking out the window at the fog and rain, phone in hand, waiting to hear from Dean.
Normally, this would be amazing snuggle weather. Obviously, Mother Nature is bitter...and single.