Hello everyone,
To the disbelief of many—and honestly, ourselves—we went ahead and booked a 36-hour journey to get from Melbourne, Australia to Amsterdam. Why, you ask? It ended up being the cheapest option to get halfway across the world. When you’re traveling on a budget, you sometimes make decisions that your future self—in your 40s or 50s—will look back on and say, “I had to be young to do that.” But hey, you only live once… at least as far as we know. In the words of Robert Frost, ”The best way out is always through.” And made it through, we did. Let me tell you about it.
Melbourne to Singapore
On May 2nd, Geoffrey—John’s cousins’ cousins’ uncle—drove us to the Tullamarine Airport, as his schedule happened to be flexible that morning. We’d been staying in his gorgeous house for a few days, and he had been the most delightful host: thoughtful, easygoing, and full of good conversation. On the drive, Geoffrey and John chatted about politics, life, and everything in between, while I sat quietly in the back, taking in the final glimpses of Melbourne through the window. The soundtrack for the ride was 80’s music, particularly Whitney Houston and Elton John. Once we arrived, we unloaded our bags from the trunk of his spotless white Audi as the sun shone brightly. We gave him hugs, told him to give our best to his partner, Robert, and walked into the international terminal.
We’re getting quite familiar with the airport routine by now. The only real variations are whether customs utilizes biometric scanners or forces you to interact with a grumpy human… and the specifics of the security area protocol. Here, we passed through biometric customs smoothly, but John’s Aunt Paula had mentioned something a few days prior—even if you go through biometric customs, you can ask for a stamp in your passport. I approached a burly looking security guard and without hesitation asked him for one while holding out my passport. He looked at my passport, looked at me, looked back at my passport, and deliberated internally. Then without a word, he took it behind an unmanned desk, stamped it, and handed it back. John happened to be right behind me and also got his stamped. Yay!
We both agree that it’s necessary to find our gate before doing anything else—no distractions until we know where we’re going, so we set off to find it. The airport was bustling, but then again it was a Friday morning, one of the busiest days to fly. Once we found our target, we split up to find breakfast. While passing all the souvenir shops, luxury goods stores, and fast food joints, I stumbled on a store that sold compression socks. I texted John where the store was because he needed them, and bought an inflatable lumbar pillow for myself. If you’ve ever struggled with lower back pain, these come in handy when you need a little extra support. Those economy airplane seats sure aren’t known for their ergonomic design. It’s tough to make a one-size-fits-all approach work for most people. This trip has taught me that it’s important to do what you can to support your body and stay comfortable, even if it may take a few extra seconds.
With food on my mind, I found myself reflecting on a few things I’d noticed about the norms and habits surrounding food in Australia. One of the more surprising cultural differences was that many Australians seem to genuinely enjoy McDonald’s. Unlike in the States, there seemed to be less stigma around grabbing a meal there. John’s aunt mentioned that his cousins were shocked at how much worse McDonald’s was during their visit to the U.S.—maybe that explains it. Another notable mention: nearly every café display case was stacked high with pastries, meat pies, and sandwiches, almost overflowing—some of the biggest piles I’ve ever seen.
Wading through all that gluten, I finally found a coffee and a Greek yogurt parfait topped with gluten-free granola at a small cafe. I ended up sharing a table with two pediatric nurses who were casually discussing the use of tongue depressors on sick kids. Not a bad start to the morning. After I finished my coffee, I met up with John at our gate.
Then before we knew it, it was time to board our first flight: Melbourne to Singapore. The flight was uneventful, which is always a good thing. We watched movies, slept a little, and tried not to dwell on the long journey ahead. The $15 credit included in our fare covered a few snacks—I picked olives, cheese and crackers, and orange juice. The banana bread was already sold out (a very popular choice), so John chose cheese and crackers too. Jetstar, being the budget airline that it is, did charge for movies — but they did hand our free headphones that only fit their oddly specific jack design… so make of that what you will. John paid to watch The White Lotus while I snuck occasional glances at his screen (just such a good show). About seven hours later, we landed at the Changi Airport in Singapore.
Singapore to Doha, Qatar
As we exited the plane, I was struck by how retro the Singapore International Airport decor was—purple carpets with circular designs, overhead lights to match, and metal chalice-shaped chairs with velvet cushions. It felt like a modern version of the ’70s. Since we were flying on Qatar Airlines next, we had to collect our checked bags from Jetstar and re-check them, so we headed to baggage claim. It looked like a giant airplane hangar, with rows of carousel “B” belts- long enough to chase down your bag before it went back under the fabric dangly bits (their official name) at the end. It’s so nerve-wracking standing there at the edge of the carousel, not knowing if—or when—your bag is going to be spit out. But thankfully, all of our bags arrived safely.
With a salute to John, I exited the glass doors and stepped onto the sidewalk outside the airport terminal. The humid Singaporean air instantly hit my face—a stark reminder that I was no longer in Melbourne, where autumn nights can dip below 50 degrees Fahrenheit and a sweater is a must. It felt so good to stretch and feel the sun on my skin after the long flight. Though I was dressed for a far cooler climate, the heat wasn’t oppressive; instead, it woke me up and grounded me in the present. And hey, I can now technically say I’ve been to Singapore—as I don’t really count layovers in the same way.
After a few more minutes of soaking in the tropical plants, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the feeling of being outdoors again, I rejoined John inside. Wanting to ditch our checked baggage as soon as possible, we split up to search for the Qatar Airways front desk, hoping there was a chance for early check-in. But there were no signs of Qatar Airways anywhere in Terminal 2. Navigating an unfamiliar airport in a foreign country—especially when the signs are in another language—presents a unique kind of challenge. We were a little stressed but trying to hold it together, knowing we still had a long journey ahead. After some deliberation, we decided to approach the situation like the logical, problem-solving adults we try to be (let’s just fast-forward through the mess of indecisive back-and-forth that preceded this moment).
We found an information center where a helpful information desk worker, dressed in red with a matching sailor-like cap, told us to take the shuttle to Terminal 1. We thanked her kindly and headed in the direction she’d pointed, passing a charming little cleaning robot with a pink smiley face. It stopped politely whenever someone got too close. We’d seen a few of these cleaner bots at airports throughout Southeast Asia, but this one—shaped like a trash can on wheels with two circular brushes constantly whirring across the floor—was by far the cutest.
The shuttle ride took about 10 minutes—which, for an airport transfer, felt really long. At one point, I started wondering if we were being taken for a ride (literally). The bus kept winding through what looked like highways and side roads, and I briefly considered whether we should just get off and walk… but then we finally made it.
As it turns out, Changi Airport isn’t your average airport. It’s one of the largest aviation hubs in the world, spanning about 13 square kilometers. It currently operates four terminals, with a massive Terminal 5 under construction. In 2024 alone, Changi handled approximately 67 million international passengers, making it the fourth busiest international airport in the world. So I guess 10 minutes on a shuttle bus makes sense.
We were dropped off outside the Jewel, a massive nature-themed entertainment and retail complex connected to Terminal 1 and accessible from the other terminals. It is packed with restaurants, stores, and airport hotels for the weary traveler, which we would explore later. Making eye contact with John over the throng of exiting passengers, we crossed the street into the main terminal building to find our check-in counter. Just then, an ambulance pulled up outside. Since working in the clinical simulation lab, ambulances always grab my attention. I find it comforting that no matter where we’ve been on this trip, there’ve been emergency services running day and night to help save lives. Luckily this ambulance wasn’t for us, and it seemed like the person it was for ended up being okay.
Terminal 1 was also huge, with rows and rows of check-in counters separated by airline company. John and I went to opposite ends of the massive check-in space and systematically worked towards the middle, scanning for the words “Qatar Airways”. Turns out the information desk staff was right—Qatar Airways check-in desks were indeed located where she said, but they weren’t open yet. Qatar only opens its check-in counters within two hours of a scheduled flight. I scanned the area spotted a lone Qatar staff member, mostly obscured from view behind a tall desk. I approached and asked what we should do, and she directed us to the “Early Check-In” location across the street, inside the Jewel complex.
Feeling hopeful, I found John and relayed this direction. We walked across to the Jewel via an underground tunnel. But before we could find the early check-in place, we stumbled upon Changi Airport’s most iconic attraction: the breathtaking HSBC Rain Vortex, otherwise known as the world’s tallest indoor waterfall. The space itself is a five-story indoor garden known as the Shiseido Forest Valley, filled with tropical plants, walking trails, and benches scattered throughout the levels. In the center of it all, the waterfall cascades from an oculus in the ceiling down through a giant glass column, changing colors in sync with ambient classical music. The airport’s Skytrain passes the upper levels, creating a premium view of the waterfall for its passengers. Even though we were tired, it was necessary to take a moment and admire the pretty colors.
Then we exited and quickly spotted the gold “Early Check-In” sign perched above a small, open room. Inside were six self-service kiosks paired with automated baggage drops. And despite our flight not departing until 3 a.m. the next morning, we were able to check in and drop our bags early. The process was surprisingly smooth. We entered our confirmation number, printed our boarding passes and baggage tags, scanned the barcodes, and placed our bags on the conveyor belt. The machine read the tags, confirmed the weight, and—like magic—swept our luggage away behind a glass wall. John and I gave a little wave to our bags as they disappeared from view, hoping we’d see them again.
Feeling lighter, we went in search of food at the Jewel’s food court—and it did not disappoint. There were dishes from all over Asia: pho, hot pot, sushi, bento, noodles, chicken, and more. And best of all we found a fresh fruit juice stand! I’d missed fresh juice since Vietnam, and also the daily breakfast papaya common in Bali. For dinner, I went for a self-serve hot pot with a broth base (not spicy) and seafood balls—so comforting and nostalgic. My grandma took us to hot pot in Hawaii when we visited, and this reminded me of her. John got a bento-style noodle and meat dish, which he said was pretty good. Then once we were full, we exited the food court to explore all 5 stories of the Jewel complex.
On our indoor adventure, we learned that Singapore has its own version of kawaii culture—cute, with different characters/animals from Japan. This was especially apparent on the fancy personal cakes we saw in display cases, decorated with cute pandas, characters with monocles, and much more. There were other fun sightings such as a small theater space, life-size Mario Kart, and many stationary stores. At one point we passed about 12 rows of luggage for sale on an open part of the third floor and in the middle of it there was a man on a makeshift stage singing with his DJ equipment, because why not?
After seven hours on a plane, and a few in the airport, we were feeling pretty physically gross—sticky, covered in stale airplane air, and desperate for a shower. We had read that some of the airport hotels at the Jewel offered paid shower access or day rooms, so we headed to one of the counters to inquire. Unfortunately, they were completely booked. We tried another airport hotel on a different floor but it was also full. Curse you people who plan ahead! Our hopes were fading fast as it was getting close to 10pm (when most shops closed), but there was one last place to check: something called “Hub & Spoke.”
Getting there felt like a journey in itself. We had to exit the Jewel complex, cross through a parking lot, and keep walking for what felt like a full mile away from anything central. Along the way, signs kept teasing us: “Hub & Spoke this way,” “Almost there.” Just when we were about to give up, we turned a corner and saw a vine-covered path with music loudly emanating from somewhere behind the shrubbery. Sweating from the humid heat, we followed the sound and emerged into a small, secluded but lively scene. There it was: Hub & Spoke, a quirky little café with a cozy lounge hosting live music next door, and—yes!—24/7 paid shower facilities.
We hurried into the café and managed to buy shower tickets just before they closed. For a small extra charge, we got disposable towels as well. To access the showers, we scanned our tickets at a turnstile with rotating arms, and then followed the signs to gender-designated rooms. The whole system was well-organized, and they even had a self-serve kiosk for after-hours access. Peeling off sticky clothes and rinsing off the day felt amazing. That said, my first shower smelled like pee really strongly. I quickly exited and found a cleaner one. Once I’d changed into fresh clothes, brushed my teeth, and done all the little rituals that made me feel human again, I met up with John.
Even though the music from the lounge sounded fun, we both decided to go back into the Jewel to wait out the three hours until we could go to our gate. Our previous tour only took us to the fourth floor, so we naturally had to explore the fifth. There we found a bar, many private wooden benches, and walkways that allowed you to see all the way down to the first floor. It was quiet and dimly lit, a nice place to relax. Then I got my period. We were lucky to find a 7-11 still open. A group of local girls helped translate when the employee started closing up shop, and one of them told me I could still shop if I didn’t sit at the tables. I thanked her for translating because she did it automatically, which really helped me out. I grabbed a Pocari Sweat (terrible name, great electrolyte drink) and some tampons.
Afterward, we found a quiet corner to rest until 1 a.m., when we’d be allowed to head to our gate. One thing that’s unique about Singapore Changi Airport is that security is done at the gate, not centrally. Every gate has its own body scanner and bag x-ray, so we didn’t go through security until we were about to board.
With two hours to spare, we discovered something called the Sleep Lounge—a dedicated space for napping, complete with reclining chairs and padded couches. Unfortunately, it was so popular that every surface was occupied. The only real estate left? The floor. Too tired to care, we claimed a spot under a closed kiosk and lay down. At one point, we were interrupted by a construction crew who needed access behind the wall we were leaning against, which flustered both of us. Still, we shuffled out of the way and laid back down. They weren’t the only crew we saw that night—seems like a lot of maintenance happens in the overnight hours at Changi.
Eventually, finally, thankfully, it was time to board. We chugged our water (no liquids allowed through security), passed through the scanners, and entered the post-security waiting area behind a glass barrier. There, we found a water refill station and some rows of chairs for passengers to wait. When boarding was announced, we joined the standard human shuffle—walk a few feet, stop, wait for people to arrange their bags—and finally made it to our seats.
Our Qatar Airways flight from Singapore to Doha was next-level hospitality. Because Qatar is a partner of American Airlines (and we had booked through them), we were treated like premium customers. The chief flight attendant personally introduced herself, asked for our meal preferences first, and even checked if we wanted to be woken for the service. We said yes. The meal was surprisingly good: a small pudding, roll of bread, a decent quality main course (noodle, meat, or veggie), and a fruit cup. They even gave us wet wipes before the meal, which felt nice to clean our hands with. Blankets and pillows were provided at no extra charge, which was perfect because the cabin was on the colder side. We stretched, watched movies, and dozed off intermittently.
As soon as the flight attendant announced we were in our final descent, I pressed my face to the window. Endless rippling sand dunes met the blue and green sea as far as I could see – we’d made it to the Middle East. We passed over Oman, the UAE, and then landed bumpily in Doha, Qatar! It felt so good to be over the halfway mark of our trip: part 2 of 3 finished. We exited the plane via a mobile staircase and boarded a shuttle bus to the terminal. Rain had started to fall, and we were some of the last passengers to squeeze onto the first bus. A small luxury.
Doha, Qatar to Amsterdam, The Netherlands
This time, we didn’t need to recheck our bags. But we had only an hour between flights, so we hustled through the Hamad International Airport (HIA) terminal, racing against the clock. We boarded the Cable Liner (passenger train) to another terminal, trying not to focus too much on our watches. I stood at the window, watching the layout of HIA blur past—my first time in a Middle Eastern country. Though I wanted to see more, there wasn’t time. Thankfully it was only a few stops till our terminal.
We found our gate with only a few minutes to spare—just enough time for me to grab a snack from the “Healthy” section of a convenience store (odd branding, but okay). I grabbed Pringles and a protein bar, a quick snack to hold us over. With anticipation of our last leg, John and I sank into reclining chairs facing the big airport windows until our flight was called. Behind us there was a digital display of 3D animated flowers tumbling downward, as if they might fall on you. Luckily we were safe.
This time, we’d happened to be put in the exit row which gave us ample legroom, though we had to put all of our belongings in the overhead compartments for take off and landing as there was no under the seat storage for us. The in-flight entertainment screens were also stowed for takeoff and landing, but once airborne, we settled in comfortably. In the middle isle, a mom with three kids was trying her best to wrangle everyone. The flight attendants helped her get situated, even attaching a bassinet to the wall in front of her for the baby once we were at cruising altitude. I didn’t know they could do that.
One of the flight attendants had a jump seat directly in front of us. He was from India and had moved to Qatar for better financial opportunities. We ended up chatting with him throughout the flight. He told us that being a flight attendant had helped him build confidence—he’d learned to shift his tone and manner depending on whether he was serving business class, first class, or economy. He smiled and admitted that before this job, he wouldn’t have felt comfortable chatting so easily with us. It was sweet to see how relaxed and proud he was. He offered John a free mimosa and brought us extra snacks throughout the flight. Just like before, the chief flight attendant came to introduce herself, and our meals were taken first. It really did feel like a sneak peek of what business class might be like.
I decided to watch Wicked: Part 1. I’ll admit—I was a little sad I liked it. I’ve never been a huge Ariana Grande fan, but she did a surprisingly good job as Glinda. I loved the actress playing Elphaba, too. If you haven’t seen it and you’re even a little curious, I’d recommend it. I saw Wicked on Broadway for one of my middle school birthdays, and while I remembered the singing, I had completely forgotten the story. It was nice to fill in those gaps and better understand the characters’ motivations through the movie. Meanwhile, John caught some much-needed sleep.
By the time we landed in Amsterdam, we were done. Running on fumes. The 36-hour journey had taken its toll, and both of us were struggling to hold it together emotionally and physically. But we managed to get from the airport to the hotel we’d booked for the night.
The moment we got into the room, I showered, then flopped into bed. I told John that I’d only sleep until 6 p.m.—but I woke up at 2 a.m., rolled over, and fell back asleep until 9am. We both slept for nearly 14 hours.
We had made it. Exhausted, over-traveled, and beyond grateful to collapse into a real bed—but we made it. We headed downstairs for the hotel’s continental breakfast—Dutch deli meats, boiled eggs, and muesli. John looked at me over my random assortment of breakfast items and said brightly, “Welcome to Amsterdam!” And what a treat it was to finally be there.
Tips and Takeaways
Overall, this trip wasn’t as bad as either John or I expected. We did our best to stay focused on the future and agreed not to make any big life decisions during this time. What really helped was sticking to some basic needs: staying hydrated (bring a refillable water bottle), keeping ourselves fed (pack some snacks), and making sure we were physically comfortable. One small but effective tip—packing a change of clothes in our carry-on and changing after a shower made us feel much fresher.
If you know you’re going to be on a 36-hour journey, I highly recommend booking an airport hotel at your final stop just to sleep. After all that travel, the last thing you’ll want to do is figure out how to get to your final destination—especially if no one is coming to pick you up.
On the plane, make sure to get up and walk around, or at least stand and stretch in your seat area. Wear compression socks, and put them on before you board the plane.
Keep yourself mentally occupied with whatever helps the time pass—meditation, movies, music, books, card games—whatever works for you.
Most importantly, listen to your body and yourself. After so much sitting, we found ourselves exploring every corner of the Jewel complex just to get our steps in. Prioritizing movement during layovers made a huge difference in how we felt.
Honestly, I’d recommend this kind of journey to anyone who feels like they could handle it. It wasn’t terrible—and it definitely makes for a good story!
Thanks for reading, and until next time,
-W