The Last Travel from Canberra to Delhi

It was one of those crisp Australian mornings in Canberra that etched itself into my soul forever, the kind where the air bites just enough to wake you up, but the sun promises warmth if you linger.

First Sydney then Canberra, with its wide avenues, parliamentary triangles, and lake reflections, has been our world for years, projects, serene, and quiet ambition. But everything comes to an end my project was over and I had to come back to India.

The drive to Canberra Airport was a blur of eucalyptus-scented roads and golden wattles blooming defiantly against the autumn chill. We chatted about everything and nothing. The beaches, local cafes, and how I'd miss the park in front of our house across the road during my evening or morning jogs.

 

Finally, she dropped us off at the departures curb, after that quick hug, a "stay safe, legend," and then she was gone. We wheeled our luggage through the sliding doors, the conditioned air hitting me like a farewell slap.

I remember standing at the drop point outside Canberra airport, suitcase in tow, backpack slung over one shoulder. My loved one pulled up her Tesla, she said goodbye but then stopped her car and came back running to hug her mom once again.

"You sure want to leave?" She asked with her touchy grin, my wife nodded, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and that hollow ache of leaving home behind.

Sitting at Canberra Airport has become my limbo as it's not for the first time. The Canberra is not an International airport yet its terminal is large, intimate almost, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing the Brindabella Ranges.

We sat at our departure Gate 7, as we were early so decided to drink white coffee, strong, bitter, just how I liked it to steady my nerves. Our flight to Melbourne was at scheduled time yet delayed by 20 minutes, so I had time to watch people.

 
Families with wide-eyed kids, suited professionals tapping away on laptops, a group of backpackers debating hostels in Sydney. I pulled out my phone and checked Steemit.

What if this is the last time? Will my Delhi office permit me another stint in Australia? Suddenly, the airport's PA crackled with updates, and soon we boarded the short hop on a Virgin Australia's small aircraft, cozy, efficient, the kind of flight that feels more like a shuttle than an adventure. But I am always scared when I travel this one hour distance because the wind is too nasty and the plane shudders like a kid's toy.

 
Touching down in Melbourne was like stepping into a bigger, buzzier version of the same story. Melbourne Airport buzzed with energy, a stark contrast to Canberra's calm. It was late afternoon, as we navigated the throngs to the international terminal.

My Delhi flight a 12 hours 30 minutes journey by Indigo, so we settled into the lounge with our priority pass, a small perk from years of corporate travel hacks. Sinking into a chair, we ate wraps our daughter has packed and scrolled through photos.

One last snap of Lake Burley Griffin, a selfie with our loved ones at the National Arboretum. The lounge hummed with quiet conversations, clinking glasses, and the aroma of fresh croissants. I texted my daughter, "We are fine, see you soon" and fought back a wave of nostalgia.

Melbourne's airport felt like a gateway, efficient with its moving walkways and vast duty-free halls stocked with so many things but we bought nothing. I eyed but didn't buy, as we were almost at the limit of our allowed weight.

I wandered, browsed paintings on the wall, even did a few laps to burn off anxious energy. Finally, boarding and as usual, Indigo's Boeing 787 Dreamliner was packed, I offered a farewell to Australia. As the plane taxied, the cabin lights dimmed, and I watched Melbourne's lights fade into the vast Pacific darkness.

I generally never sleep during travel besides turbulence over the Indian Ocean never lets you sleep, in-flight movies is not my show, and our per-ordered vegetarian meals a curry that hinted at home. Hours later, at dawn as we entered the subcontinent, the plane descending into Indira Gandhi International amid a sea of Haryana fields and sprawling urban sprawl.

Stepping off in Delhi was rebirth. The humid blast, the cacophony of announcements in Hindi and English, the custom and migration and finally out of the airport where our precooked taxi was waiting. No more quiet Canberra commutes, this was life in India in full throttle.

On our way to home, grinning at the first sight of a roadside tea stall. That journey, from drop point to Delhi, marked the end of one chapter and the fiery start of another. Looking back, it's not the flights or waits that linger, but the emotions, the tug of roots, the thrill of wings, our loved ones who pull us back. Canberra feels like a dream now, but those memories? They're now past yet come to my mind at every step.

Great news— my project management is planning to assign me yet another term! After that emotional Canberra farewell, another Aussie stint, Sydney this time which sounds thrilling. Ready to pack again, I am ready for yet another trip to Sydney this time around!