Omaha, Nebraska
After leaving Sydney at midday Monday and arriving in Dallas at midday Monday, I took a connecting flight to Omaha. I had a window seat and gazed out the window as Texas gave way to the plains of Oklahoma which gave way to the wide flat cornfields of Nebraska. I felt a frisson of excitement as I landed in Omaha, with all the good memories of the last two years building an anticipation of an even better season ahead. I walked around the nearly deserted streets of the Old Market quarter at 6am the next day, something I do to jolt my body into wakefulness - this is daylight, time to get up - even though it's 9pm in Sydney and time to start winding down for sleep. I realised as I pondered the cobblestones of the Old Market that I'm not very adventurous. My excitement about coming back to Omaha this year is not its newness but its familiarity. I don't crave travelling to new places. I know this place. I know the rhythm of life on campus. I know and love these