My ID:  8:21am, Saturday, 03 October 2009:  Brisbane International Airport

Etihad Airways flight EY470 from Singapore

With sunshine reflecting off of royal blue Moreton Bay below, my Initial Descent into Australia was as beautiful and lush as I had expected it to be. Everything I had heard about this country was about its natural, physical beauty, and based on this first foray, I was not disappointed.

Customs, on the other hand, was a different story. Besides being just a few customs agents sitting in a room full of desks, leaving for an impossible queue, the authorities seemed intent on checking half of the bags coming through the hall. I had always thought Australians to be laid back and easygoing, which is perhaps why I didn’t expect the customs process to be more of a hassle than some of the US airports I’m used to, including New York City’s JFK or Los Angeles International. But that’s what I was dealing with, and I would find out within the next few days that my expectation of laid back and easygoing wasn’t really accurate even beyond the confines of a stuffy immigration hall.

Nevertheless, with a bright sun pasted atop a clear blue sky, I was happy to be in the Land Down Under for the first time!

MyID:  11:52pm, Monday, 29 August 2005:  Bangkok Don Mueang International Airport

Cathay Pacific flight CX709 from Hong Kong

As I embarked upon my Initial Descent into Thailand, I knew little else besides the fact that everything was going to be cheap. I just didn’t realize how cheap. When I landed at Don Mueang Airport (which was “BKK” before Suvarnabhumi Palace opened up a few in 2006), I was surprised at the ease of which I found my bus (which cost me all of $1.50 into the town), and of course the golf course that lied between the runways (literally—I couldn’t believe it still existed in the post-911 days).

Upon checking into my $20-a-night hotel, I realized that I had gotten exactly what I had paid for—a cheap hotel. But when I walked down the street to the Holiday Inn, which itself was still less than $100 a night—and five star—I figured I’d do it better the next time I came.

Those trees in the middle really are a golf course!

MyID: 8:49am, Sunday, April 1, 2012: Buenos Aires-Ezeiza International Airport

United Airlines flight UA847 from Washington-Dulles

Getting ready for my first visit to Argentina, I remember reading a lot about the country’s problems with corruption (although it is hardly alone there), and just giving myself the typical abroad-for-the-first-time pep talk about watching my back, making sure I looked like I knew what I was doing, where I was going, etc.

Looking down into the brown waters of Rio de la Plata

When we began our Initial Descent into Ezeiza, I remember being surprised at what I saw out the window below, despite not having any preconception about what to expect in terms of physical landscape. Looking at the Rio de la Plata glistening below, I did not see what looked like a sea at all, but rather something that resembled a mud puddle. It was completely brown, as far as I could see. It turns out that it is just sediments that are carried into the body of water by local rivers–not pollution–but it is definitely eye-catching to see how it appears in the image below.

In this NASA satellite photo, you can see how the Rio de la Plata appears brown from sediments beginning around Montevideo, Uruguay (the large city visible left of the inlet), up through Buenos Aires (the larger city towards the bottom right).

Having gathered myself from the sight of the brown water, as we approached land I could see the outskirts of the city, then a vast plain of green and brown farmland rolling onto the horizon, and minutes later I was outside in the Autumn sun looking for Bus 86 to whisk me away to the city.

My ID:  7:46am, Monday, 03 June 2002:  Schiphol Airport

EasyJet flight EZY862 from Edinburgh

The first thing I noticed as my EasyJet flight from Edinburgh began its approach into Schiphol Airport was the sheer mass of the Port of Rotterdam, one of the world’s biggest and busiest container ports.  Having always been interested in transportation and logistics, I imagined where each of the containers below—just orange and blue specks—had been a few weeks earlier and would be in another few weeks.  A few minutes later I was walking through cavernous Schiphol trying to figure out how to get to Amsterdam, where I would first set foot around 8:30 on a lazy Tuesday morning.

After arriving at Centraal Station, I made a beeline for the most fascinating and surreal target on my list—the Red Light District!  I remember being shocked that some of the girls were “open for business” at all, being about the least social time of the entire week.  I didn’t have the best feeling, based primarily on my romantically idealized preconceived notions heading in, and I made haste to see target No. 2—Anne Frank’s House.

Not really much that needs to be said here. Seen in SFO…

Classic.

Monday, 10 June 2002; 6:51am; Paris-Gare de l’Est

Gare de l’Est

My Initial Descent came via the rails, arriving into Gare de l’Est after an overnight train from Switzerland. Of course I had expected to be greeted with the typical disdain for Americans that is so widely thought to be prevalent in France, but I didn’t find this to be true at all. “Excusez-moi…parlez-vous anglais?” I asked the person at the information counter at the station, as I needed some guidance getting to where I was going.

“Yes, a little bit”, she replied, and I knew immediately that the stereotypes were myth. The French don’t have disdain for Americans, just Americans who show up in France without a shred of respect for the local culture and who fail to make even a sorry attempted to learn a few words of French. Learn a few phrases, and you’ll be welcomed as warmly as anywhere else.

A few hours later, I had my first “I’m really in France” moment, sitting in the hallowed halls of Notre Dame cathedral, before the tourist crowds arrived. Taking in a morning prayer with people to whom this is a part of their daily lives, I couldn’t help but think that this we do not have a home…

My ID:  5:51pm, Friday, 07 August 2009:  Istanbul Atatürk Airport

Turkish Airlines flight TK1450 from Zagreb

Ah, the land where East and West meet…unfortunately I wasn’t in a necessarily conscious state to experience this Initial Descent.  While the flight over from Zagreb was only two hours and some change, I really hadn’t eaten much all day, as I was rushing to catch my flight.  I remember feeling extremely about halfway through the journey, started sweating profusely, and the next thing I remember was the flight attendant bringing me some water, saying I had passed out.  This all happened over the course of about 20 minutes, and I had restored my wits and sensibilities well before we landed at Atatürk Airport.  Still, as I was kind of dazed at what had just happened, I didn’t really appreciate the full extent of my descent into Istanbul, only really noticing the water below and a mosque in the distance.  Fortunately, I had a friend waiting as soon as I passed immigration, and I knew I was in Istanbul the second we pulled out onto Ataturk Boulevard, slammed on the brakes, and crept along for what seemed like hours…

My ID:  8:48pm, Sunday, 04 September 2005:  Seoul-Incheon International Airport

Cathay Pacific flight CX420 from Taipei

Descending into ICN

My Initial Descent into Korea came as part of a trip I was taking around Asia. Lucky for me—or so I thought—I had met a group of Koreans while I was in Thailand a few weeks before I was scheduled to get to Seoul, and they said they would be happy to meet me and show me around once I got there.

Dynamic Korea

I had no trouble finding the “limousine bus” to central Seoul (which, for the record, is nothing like a limousine, but efficient nonetheless). After I dropped my bag at the Sinchon guest house I was to call home for the next few days, the people I had met the week before in Bangkok were on their way to pick me up.

A girl named Soo Jin, who wanted to be called Sarah, was driving. We were headed first to a department store, and then across town to the trendy neighborhood of Apgujeong. I was impressed by the density of everything—I just remember being overwhelmed by…imagery. Buildings covered with signs, more buildings, signs and more signs. I thought about how someone had once told me that Korean was easy to learn to read, and at that moment I told myself I’d try to learn it.

Not amused with the navigation system

But while I was highly impressed by the Seoul I saw passing by out the window, I was equally scared for my life. This was in the early days of navigation, and Soo Jin had a console attached to her dashboard. It seemed the entire time that the directions were a bit slow, and so besides the fact that the console was positioned at the side of the dashboard and therefore here eyes were focused anywhere but the actual road, we also seemed to make a habit out of right turns from left hand lanes.

Made it to Apgujeong

Luckily, thanks to some observant and quick-reflex other drivers, we made it to Apgujeong for a fun night out. But when it was time to turn in, I high-tailed it to the Metro’s Line 3, not wanting to play navigation roulette twice in the same day.

My ID:  7:07am, Thursday, 30 May 2002:  London Heathrow Immigration

United Airlines flight UA956 from New York-Kennedy

Unfortunately, my Initial Descent to the UK wasn’t the greatest. As my first foray overseas, I knew nothing about immigration, customs, or the world’s busiest international airport. As such, I booked a ticket from London’s Gatwick Airport to Dublin, Ireland, for about three hours after my scheduled arrival into Heathrow. I had calculated that the time to get between the two was about an hour, so that would be plenty. What I failed to account for, however, was the full hour it took me simply to clear immigration at Heathrow’s Terminal 3. With most North & South American flights, as well as many European flights and even some Asian flights, arriving in the morning, I learned first-hand that Heathrow can be very congested during these times.

By the time I finally cleared customs and made my way to Gatwick, my flight was long gone. I had to purchase another ticket…only to be informed that it was a bank holiday weekend and everything was full (this was also my first introduction to the terminology of “Bank Holiday”). Fortunately, I was able to purchase the last seat on the last flight available that day to Ireland, but into Belfast instead of my intended destination of Dublin. I took it, and ended up meeting the couple on the flight that I ended up staying with when I returned to London a month later—funny how things always seem to work themselves out.

Not the easiest process in the world to go through…