Travel Update

For those of you who care. I'm breaking radio silence, but I'm not in Melbourne yet; nor am I in New York. I'm not in Islamabad either, although I might be by tonight, given how this nightmare trip has been playing out. I'm in Los Angeles now, and here's the short version: engine trouble on my long-delayed flight out of snowbound New York, forced layover at the LAX Marriott (nice joint; I recommend the almond granola at the breakfast buffet), and I'm meant to depart for Melbourne via San Francisco and Sydney this afternoon.

The funny thing is, I finally get into Melbourne on Thursday afternoon, in time to have missed the Australian Open, Part 1—that is, the electric, unpredictable fun part of the event. Part 2, from the quarters on, is a different event—a more staid, weighty, tight-lipped affair. Most of the romance, color, and wackiness is drained out of the event by the start of Part 2 (although with Marat Safin still in contention, there's still hope). From now on, it will be about the Big Cats and their predator games; it will also be about tennis history. I hope to write from Melbourne next time, but you never know—I may end up in Sri Lanka because of a medical emergency or something. Gotta go now; I've got a fistful of airline travel vouchers to spend.