There have been better times to head across vast oceans and lands. Between two downed Malaysian Airlines flights, the Ebola outbreak and the rapid expansion of ISIS/ISIL/IS (really guys, you're channelling some PLO vibes with the naming thing here) in the Middle East, it would appear that 2014 is a great year to stay tucked in and safe here in Australia. But, because I am basically James Dean, screw you and your system, I'm hitting the aerial road.  Alas (or perhaps thankfully), I'm not heading to any of the hotspots of the aforementioned disasters, but, once again I am returning to the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave - the USA. Wow, it took everything in me to not write 'Home of the Rave' and pretend I was just going to drop pills and listen to Darude for 2 months.

Travelling internationally is, without any exaggeration, completely messed up. Be glad my fellow Australians, our airport security is quite tame and body-orifice respecting. On my most recent international trip to Germany in September 2012, I was asked to step aside into the small, dark confines of the Australian Federal Police Office for a Guantanamo-style interrogation.

Mr Higgins, we told you, no liquids over 100mL.

I knew I had nothing to hide, and hadn't done anything wrong, but for a few moments, I was pretty worried, and bad thoughts started flooding my brain. What if my face was coincidentally an exact match for a Belgian drug runner? What if, in the future, I killed the King, and the AFP had come back in time to prevent me from committing the crime, only to cause a the space-time continuum to unravel? Whose bodyboard bag was this next to me? It turned out to literally be over a pair of socks in my bag, so arrest, prison time and existence-obliteration were averted this time.

That is probably the worst that the average traveller will have to encounter in Australia; drug runners, covert agricultural product importers, importers of any product bearing the word "ANZAC', importers of whole and/or parts of porpoises, anyone carrying novelty erasers, Uranium traffickers, and those in possession of viable human cloning materials derived from stem cells not withstanding. However, in other parts of the world, everything can be a little bit more bureaucratic, and we all know that that can mean scary.

In the US, at all airports, before boarding any flight, passengers pass a series of rigourous tests to answer one serious question; is it a banger? are they going to blow up the plane or something random? First, passengers aren't allowed within sniper rifle range of the gates unless they have a ticket for that particular flight. That means, no teary goodbyes as your beloved boards that flight to backpack around Europe, and it also means no awkward queuing around the family who are saying goodbye to their child going to backpack around Europe. Secondly, once you have passed the regular bag screening conveyor belt with the robots that unpack your stuff and repack it exactly the way you had it, but leave out your headphones, you are most likely going to be selected to go into a large microwave scanner that both checks through all the layers of your clothing for contraband items and warms up the operator's linguini carbonara.

Wrong setting, Steve, you idiot.

IF, and let me reiterate IF, you can escape the second test, you are not presented with a selection of cups and grails, but you must complete the third and final challenge; more physical than the last; an obstacle course. Not the steeple chase through the wilderness, but just as involved, as you bound over seats, clamber across jet setters, and launch your baggage through the air. It turns out that in the world's most travelled country, there is no such thing as assigned seating, and, as such, you just have to get your elbows out to get both a good seat and a spot for your bag.

For those unfortunate few who have had to sit through my incessant chattering since the beginning of Talkin' Smack, you'll know that for holidays decent enough to deserve it, I am prone to keeping somewhat of a travel log on the site, so you'll be in good stead if you want to keep up with my movements and what not. But more on that when we get there in two weeks.