My last day with Rainnie & Claire started with a phenomenally tasty breakfast in the fantastically Nordic-chic cafe called Supply. The coffee was great, the ambience fab, the decor tastefully stark. After brekkie we went for a last wander through the streets of central Newcastle, ending up lying in the shade of one of the biggest trees I've ever seen in a park. The emotional tension was building, because we all knew that a big parting was soon to take place.

Rainnie & Claire helped me with my baggage from the hostel to the railway station, where I bought a one-way ticket to Sydney and then found myself a seat on the train. It was classic Brief Encounter stuff: the ephemeral feel of the society of rail passengers, thrown together for a short time; the sadness at saying goodbye; the waves of emotion arising from shared memories. Rainnie & I both shed quiet tears. I am very lucky to have such a good friend, a friend for life I hope.

On the train I didn't allow myself to dwell on my leaving, with all the associated thoughts and emotions. Instead, I focussed on the here and now. It was to be a two-and-a-half hour journey through some spectacular scenery, and I meant to make the most of this last visit to Aussie nature. So there I was, looking out of the window as we passed through a swampy area near a big river, when suddenly two bright yellow objects, apparently two halves of a whole, fell plunging into the water!

I couldn't see where they had come from; it seemed that they had fallen from space. Their simultaneous impacts in the water sent an interference pattern of ripples coursing over the swamp's liquid surface. I wasn't quite sure I hadn't imagined it until the passenger in the seats in front of mine turned to me in astonishment and said, "Did you see that?"

The only other eventful part of the train journey was when a young chap wearing dirty beaten-up clothes turned to an old man sat reading one section of a big newspaper and said to him, gesturing to the other sections on the seat opposite, "Have you finished with that newspaper, brother?" I was taken aback by the way the young fella called the old bloke brother. But I suppose I shouldn't have been that surprised. It seems Australians are very fond of referring to each other as mate, buddy, champ, bro, man, dude, or my friend, when as far as I can tell these people have never met before.

When I got to Sydney Central station, I quickly changed trains and made my way to Chris & Andrew's place. Chris, being a headmaster, is on Christmas holidays at the moment, so when I asked him a few weeks ago whether I could spend my last night in Sydney at their place (in Newtown, handy for the airport) he said no problem. Andrew joined us later for dinner at a yummy Vietnamese place on King Street. We drank lots of wine and had a jolly old time of it.

And so I came to my final hours in Australia. I went to close my bank account, I packed my bags, and then I had to leave the house because Chris had a prior engagement. I headed to a nearby internet cafe and caught up with myself more or less in cyberspace, then caught a taxi (after much stressing; once again I managed to pick cabbie changeover time to head to the airport, stupid me!) that took me the ten minutes to the airport.

I didn't really have time to get too maudlin about it all - and I do love a bit of travel stress, especially when self-inflicted! - because times were tight. There was no problem with my 32kg of luggage, thankfully, and customs formalities were stress-free. I sent a flurry of farewell text messages - I couldn't take my Vodafone credit with me, sadly - and then took out my contact lenses in readiness for flight.

The flight was arduous. Not difficult as such, just a really tiring ordeal. The Singapore Airlines flight from Sydney was fabulous because my seat-back screen was fitted (as indeed were everyone else's) with an inflight entertainment system that allowed me to pick my own films to watch from a list of over 60 titles. And you can start them whenever you want! So I watched The Dukes of Hazzard (shite), The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (great), The Edukators (fantastic) and Batman Begins (good fun).

A brief stopover in Singapore was followed by a much less comfortable journey on a Lufthansa plane to Frankfurt. I sort of managed to pretend to sleep most of the time. I had once again forgotten to bring my earplugs in my hand luggage, but at least I had my blindfold so I could doze. It was a fucking fucking long flight. Thirteen hours in the air. Yuk. I'd forgotten how unpleasant such a long-haul journey is. And they were really stingy with the water as well, I thought. I spent the last four hours shepherding my meagre resources, so that I would have enough water left to have a last gulp to give me the strength to get off the plane.

At Frankfurt I had all the customs and immigration formalities to pass through - queues like you've never seen - and then a massive hike across half the airport, all for a connecting flight that was leaving just 45 minutes after we had touched down! I just about made it. But of course my luggage didn't. So when I got to Munich, still wearing the teeshirt and trackie bottoms that I had left Sydney in, I realised I had to wait in the terminal building for the next flight down from Frankfurt. There was just no way I could head to Michaela's house as I was: it was minus two degrees outside and snowing!

My first impressions of Munich were formed a little bit earlier, however, during the landing of the plane. Touching down at Frankfurt had been unexciting because it was dark outside and it all felt unreal. But touching down at Munich was different because the first rays of thin winter light were picking their way between layers of dark cloud, and there was a dusting of white powdery snow over everything. I was excited by this snow, so bizarre after leaving Sydney in blazing sunshine and 31 degrees heat.

In the terminal - and actually even leaving the plane - I felt I stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just because of my luscious tan, when all around me were sickly and pale. I felt I might as well have been wearing nothing but pink frilly underwear, I was so inappropriately dressed for the weather and so differently dressed from those around me in their heavy winter coats and warm boots! So there really was no way I was going to brave the elements in my teeshirt and have the luggage delivered.

Instead, I was given a EUR7.50 voucher by Lufthansa to spend on breakfast while I waited. I blew this on a hearty Munich beer and some Leberkaese, that pale pink meatloaf that is quintessentially Alpine. My body clock was screwed anyway, so I didn't worry that it was a little early to start on the beers (it was 8am actually). I also made good use of my time by buying a local SIM card. Then, once my luggage had come, I caught the train to Michaela's house.