well i’m on my way…

I made it to the train station early this morning, and it’s a good thing I was.  The train signals were messed up somewhere between the stop prior to Auckland and Auckland.  The Overlander passengers (myself included) had to wait an hour before a bus came to take us to the train.  There was one very soft spoken employee explaining the problem, and it became more of a problem because there was only one of him and many disgruntled passengers.  When we arrived at the train, many people pushed and shoved to get to the front so they could check in.  Some other people, including myself, stood back and let them fight:  the train wasn’t going anywhere without all the passnegers, and if we were already an hour late, what’s another 30 minutes?

I somehow managed to fall in and out of sleep most of the day, with one 2 hour stint in there as well.  I brought with me two apples and five muesli (granola) bars, hopefully enough to tide me over for the day.  The train left Auckland at 830 am(an hour late) and was originally due to arrive in Wellington, the capital city, at 730 pm(which we only ended up being 15 minutes late for).  By the time we got to Wellington I was famished.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  The scenery was beautiful.  No, I take that back.  It’s stunning.  And this is the North Island.  The South Island is supposed to be better.  Having read most of the entire trilogy of the Lord of the Rings, including The Hobbit, I can see why the director chose New Zealand to film these based on this train journey alone.  The lush forest and palm covered hills and mountains really play with the imagination.  I’ve heard that New Zealand’s scenery is comparable to Ireland’s.  I can see where the person was coming from, but they forgot to mention that New Zealand would be Ireland on steriods.  Where Ireland has hillls, NZ has mountains.  Where Ireland has valleys, NZ has rivers cutting through the forests.  Ireland has lots of cows and sheep, it’s a given.  But New Zealand has to have that amount times 1000.  OK, I’m exaggerating.  But you get the picture, that is, if you’ve been to Ireland, but most of my readers from home have. 

We arrived in Auckland 15 minutes behind schedule, how I’m not sure, since the train seemed to be going very slow.  I found a map outside the train station, located the street my hostel was on, and headed in some direction.  Feeling stubborn, I decided not to take out my map, and of course got lost.  Or a little off track as I prefer to say.  I asked a cab driver and he gave me so crazy directions, I’m sure to confuse me so I’d get in his car.  He failed and I headed off in the direction he pointed me in.  I stopped in Subway since I was famished and asked the sandwich artist-he didn’t know.  I unwillingly busted out my Lonely Planet in the middle of the mall and tore out the map (why those pages aren’t perforated I’ll never know) and found out I was heading in the wrong direction. 

I got to my hostel, dumped my bag on the ground, claimed my bed, and headed back out to walk around Wellington.  It’s a bar and cafe town, and it being Thursday the places were already overflowing.  I walked for a few hours, just following the lights, probably in circles, not wanting to go in anywhere since I felt and looked like crap from sitting on the train all day, and was not about to walk into a bar by myself…I headed back to the hostel around midnight and went straight to sleep.

Anders was leaving for Auckland on Monday so Robyn, Jonas, and Ine went with him, cashing in on the free ride.  It was quite a show, since Anders’ car wasn’t really equipped with a boot and Robyn had three bags and Jonas had a tent and sleeping bag on top of his pack.  Everyone that was still at the hostel waited for them to leave to say goodbye and see if they would really all fit.  The back of the “clown car” was low to the ground as they drove away. 

Camelo, the Sweede born in Chile who spoke Spanish, Sweedish, and English; Chris, and I decided to go to Russel, the other port town on the bay.  I wanted to go to the beach and they wanted to get out of Paihia.  Americans Anna and Alyson from the hostel were heading there too, so we decided to make a group out of it.  We had to walk about half an hour to the beach, but it was well worth it.  The beach was secluded, with forest all around it and all you could see apart from the sea was islands.  It was beautiful!  We laid on the beach and when the water started getting rough, we all headed in to play in the waves.  I felt like a kid again and did not want to get out when everyone else did, but we were planning a feast for dinner and I was hungry.

We found some cheap avocadoes (they’re from New Zealand too) so the girls and I were going to make guacamole.  We went to the supermarket and picked up ingredients for a salad, guac, and toasties (grilled cheese) that Chris had plans for.  Alyson made a salad of lettuce, oranges, red onion, walnuts, and French dressing.  Anna mixed store bought salsa with the avos (actually really good) while I semi prepared the toasties while Chris cooked.  First he made some banana and peanut butter guys (Elvis style, Tennesse born Alyson told us), and then went crazy with the toasties.  He sauted some garlic, green pepper, and red onion to put in with the cheese.  It was so good.  He also made some with tuna as well (backpacker food staple), but of course, I didn’t have any of that.  It was nice to prepare a meal with people and to sit down to an actual meal.  It’s been a while. 

We decided that we wanted to drink so we sent the girls to get beer.  They’re 19 and 20 so they’re super excited to be able to purchase alcohol…Upon their return we found a deck of cards and started playing drinking games.  The cheap beer ($5.50 NZ a 6 pack) is only 4% alcohol, so we had to drink fast to feel anything, and it was a small buzz at that.  At 11 we took the rest of our beer down to the beach to finish it. 

The next day I felt so lazy, even though the sun was out.  I went to the beach around 10, hell bent on working on my tan since it was my last day in Paihia and I’m heading south after that (I’m guessing no more sunbathing).  I left the beach at 130 when Camilo and Chris came by with their lunches.  I went back with them to the hostel to have a lunch of avocadoes on toast.  Anna and Alyson were up so I went with them back to the beach where we all slept.  I got a nice burn, glad to have it, but sad it will be my last for a while.  I know I’ll loose my tan as quickly as I got it!  =(  We went back to the hostel, watched Kiss the Girls, Aladdin, and The Last Emperor.  I started dozing off during The Last Emperor, so I went to bed. 

Wednesday I checked out but hung out for a while since my bus back to Auckland wasn’t until 130.  The girls were taking the same bus back and Chris was looking to head north so we all went to the bus station together.  There were lots of hugs all around before we left the hostel.  I’ve never felt like part of a family at a hostel until here.  I may catch up with some of the people I met here later on in New Zealand or other  travels, and I know that I will remain in contact with them for years to come.  It’s tiny hostels or YHA for me from now on.  I slept most of the bus ride back and arrived in Auckland ready to leave, but my train ride to Wellington isn’t until 730 tomorrow.  Early night for me tonight!      

I woke up at 630 not too hungover to be picked up for the far north tour.  We saw some really big trees (I was sleeping for the explanation) and the lighthouse at the northernmost tip of New Zealand.  The Maori belive that this is the place where the dead leave the world for their eternal life.  What was amazing about this place is that you can see both the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean, and can actually see a difference.  At the time, the Pacific was a sparkly blue and holding true to its name, much more peaceful than the grey Tasman.  We drove down to the Pacific side to eat lunch and swim.  I forgot my suit so I rolled up my shorts as much as possible but still got soaked.  The waves were as intermittent as they were in the Southwest corner of Australia and got me when I wasn’t looking. 

There were some sand dunes nearby that we could boogyboard down so we got some quick instructions and tredged up the dune, each step becoming one step backward as the sand was falling as we climbed.  After finally making it to the top, I lied down on the board on my stomach, pulled the front of the board towards me, and pushed off.  It was fun going down (but not at all unlike sledding I would do at home, minus the snow) but when I hit the bottom I released the board from my hands and ended up knocking the wind out of myself!  Once I caught my breath, I was able to laugh at myself, but decided that once was enough, and watched all the boys have fun. 

After that, we headed for the 90 mile beach (which isn’t even 60 miles long) to park in the sand, hopefully not sink, and swim in the Tasman.  Well, actually, we weren’t allowed to swim here as the current is bad, but of course I got my feet wet.  We drove down the beach, which is technically considered a highway and saw some fisherman in raingear waist deep in the water and some half sunken vehicles.  It was very cool to see the crazy waves flying by as we drove past.  The tour was probably over around 7, so I’m guessing I went to bed at 9 that night, so extremely tired.

I woke up before my alarm and got ready, not feeling too bad.  I left the hostel an hour and 15 minutes before my bus was supposed to leave, but I had about a 20 minute walk ahead of me and I like being early.  I got to the bus stop and was hoping that I would get to do some swimming and sunbathing in Paihia, a tourist town north of Auckland that’s the diving board for the Bay of Islands when I remembered that I left my bathing suit at the hostel-hanging in the laundry room!  I checked my iPod (my only clock) and decided to attempt to run back and get it.  I don’t think running would have been possible with a 30 pound bag on my back on these steep hilly streets, but I did make it to the hostel and back with ten minutes to spare.  Phew!

The bus ride was about five hours long, through pretty scenery of  green rolling hills and extinct volcanoes all covered in cows.  I thought that New Zealand was the sheep capitol of the world?!?!  But cows are cute, so I wasn’t too disappointed.  The sun was shining when we pulled up in Paihia and the walk to my hostel was along the beach, so my first thought was to come back as soon as I got situated in my dorm.  I walked up to what’s probably the most out of the way hostel in Paihia and fell in love.  It’s a smallish hostel with probably about 40 beds.  The dorms and common area enclose a very plant-y courtyard.  I walked to the end of the courtyard to reception and started talking to the owner when I heard a very loud “meow” behind me.  I looked, not believing that a cat could meow that loud, and could only find a parrot.  Rocky, the bird the place is named after, meows and makes camera clicking noises!  Crazy!

I went down to the beach and just layed (or is it lied?) there, soaking up the sun and loving my life.  There were a few tiny islands in the bay, and boats dotted the horizon past the other port town across the way. 

The next day I found myself sitting in the courtyard with a few other inhabitants of the hostel.  We were all solo travelers and created a group instantly.  Anders, a navy officer from Denmark was going to some sulfur baths a half hour away by car and wanted to know if anyone would join him.  Robyn from England looked at me while he wasn’t looking and said “I’ll go if you go”.  So we changed into our suits and headed out.  Not long after we got out of the carpark he mentioned that he was once married, but he’d just ‘buried her’-in a joking way.  Robin and I looked at eachother as if asking “What have we gotten into?” and he explained about his divorce, while not getting into messy details.  He ended up being a really funny guy. 

After driving awhile, wondering if we were ever going to find the place (Anders had drawn a half-assed map from the actual map at the hostel) we stumbled across it.  We parked the car and obeyed the sign that read “Pay at house first”.  A woman came out and we gave her $5 to spend in these pools as long as we wanted.  The sulfur pools were in a fenced in yard across the way from the house.  There was an eggy smell in the air, which could only be from the sulfur pools that we were about to immerse ourselves into.  These “pools” were like hot tubs dug into the ground, each bordered by slabs of wood you could rest your head on.  Each pool was a different temperature from the next, and being a fan of hot tubs, I instantly entered the hottest one.  The steps going in were made of the same wood bordering the pools and were slippery.  The floor of the pools was natural, a kind of black sandy mud that you could rub all over your skin.  Even though it stunk, it felt so good.  Anders got a headache so he went to take a nap in the car while Robyn and I hopped from pool to pool, checking out the temperatures.  I couldn’t stay very long in the hottest one.  What the coolest part about these pools was that it’s not really a touristy thing, at least for this part of the country.  We met a few locals and learned about the benefits of the sulfur (good for your skin) and not to shower for a day afterwards for the full effect.  I wasn’t sure if I could handle the smell on me, but I did end up not showering.  While we were chatting, it started pouring.  Instict would tell a person to get out of the rain when outside, but it seemed silly since we were already sitting in water.  It was oddly fun to be sitting in a hottub in the pouring rain, getting soaked from all directions.

 After we didn’t see Anders for a while and remembered that our purses were in his car, we decided to get out.  He was still there and listening to the weather on the local radio.  We left quickly as the heavy rains were coming our way.  After driving through some crazy rain on crazy winding roads we made it back to the hostel where everyone was inside the common room, debating on which movies to watch.  We ended up watching Lord of the Rings The Two Towers and made a huge list for the next day as it was supposed to rain all day again.  

It actually never rained the next day, although everything was wet and grey.  Robin, Canadian Chris, and I took a walk around Paihia being silly.  We stumbled across a school with a really cool playground and played on the monkey bars and went down the slides.  We wandered down a residential street and once we got to the top of the hill, realized that they were all gated houses and were really disappointed, since the view of the bay was blocked by the foilage.  We saw a home with a few goats in the yard, so we started playing with the goats!  They didn’t believe that I loved goats that much.  We found an antique shop where Chris made friends with the owner while I stuck my nose in some old books.  We were walking back towards town when two 15 (I’m guessing?) year old boys walked by with ice cream.  Robyn and I made yum noises and turned around to look at the ice cream, wondering where they got it from.  Chris was certain the boys thought we were checking them out, not their ice cream.  We found the ice cream and I ended up getting a Sundae with Hokey Pokey (vanilla with honeycomb chunks), the best Chocolate I have ever had, and Apple Pie ice creams with caramel instead of fudge.  Yum!  We visited the free art gallery and as soon as I walked in I spotted a painting of the Grand Canyon!  What?!?!  Thankfully that was the only American landscape and the rest of it was local or Maori. 

On our way back to the hostel, we decided it was a drinking day so Robyn and I split a bottle of Bacardi and picked up a 2-liter of coke.  We shared our alcohol with the Belgian ex-couple Jonas and Ine and went to the bar when that ran out.  The bar had a video DJ and played his songs in a loop-I’m pretty sure we danced to Beyonce’s “Put a Ring on It” at least twice, maybe even three times.  We left when it got too hot and crowded and headed for the beach to check out the stars, which are nothing in comparison to what I saw in the outback, but blow away any stars I might see from home. 

So Wednesday after I informed you of my life I went to the Auckland Museum with my English roomie Helen.  The museum was actually really good, with lots of Maori artifacts and commentary on the culture.  There was also a really neat volcano exhibit too-I got to sit inside a fake house and experience what (is thought) would happen if a person survived a volcano eruption in the city of Auckland.  We went into the city and I bought a pair of North Face pants for future tramps around NZ for $60-that’s a little bit over $30 USD!  Holy cheapness!  

Upon returning to the hostel I ran into some guys I had been hanging out with-Andy, Ido (but we called him Penguin), and Sideshow (short for Sideshow Bob; I never got his real name, only a nickname from home which is actually Hebrew for the “N” word).  Andy’s from England and left home two years ago to work in Australia and now trying to get work in New Zealand.  Penguin and Sideshow are from Isreal, just got out of the army, and are traveling for six months or until money runs out.  I’m guessing they’ll run out of money long before their alloted time of six months.  They were playing pool and drinking beer so I busted out my leftover bottle of wine from a few nights before.  Helen came down and we put on someone’s iPod and danced around the hostel basement and outside, I’m sure to many people’s entertainment and even more people’s annoyance.  Since I was leaving the next day, we were all dramatically hugging and telling eachother “I hate goodbyes” and promised that we’d meet up for St Patricks Day with some more people from the hostel who had already left.     

Monday morning I started making plans: I booked a bus, a few nights in a hostel,  and a train (actually, the train the creator of Lord of the Rings took that made him decide to film the movie here).  I didn’t feel so lost anymore. 

My friend Gareth, whom I met in Cairns, his sister Jennette, and their dog Gunner picked me up to head to the beach.  Murawai Beach isn’t accessable by public transport, so it’s pretty much only locals that visit.  It has to be the most goregous beach I’ve seen so far-with the lush green all around, black sand, and a coast that goes on forever, until it got too misty from the sea foam.  Now black sand is beautiful to look at, with its sparklyness and unique color, but damn is it hot!  I’m pretty sure I burnt the bottoms of my feet while running across it.  The color of the water wasn’t really altered by the sand, which for some reason I was amazed by the fact.  The water was scary in a magnificent sort of way.  Most beaches I’ve encountered so far have had flags on the beach showing the swimmers where to swim between, depending on currents, rips, and other scary things that common people don’t know about.  The guard at this beach had to keep on moving the flags, and was moving them quite often.  After we baked in the sun, we all went in and I learned why the flags kept on moving.  After reaching about thigh-deep, I had to bend over a bit, and walk with all my might to walk even deeper.  I was pumping my arms like a power walker and everything!  A wave would come, and no matter how hard I tried to walk forward, I’d get pushed backwards.  It was cool and I was laughing, but it was kind of scary.  For a bit I let the waves take me where they wanted, but then I realized I was outside of the flags.  I now know how important the presence of the flags is for everyone’s safety.  If I thought the current was strong before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling at that moment.  I kept a clear head, and walked parallel to the beach and headed back into the safe area.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the water, looking at it, being in it, but I have respect for it.  And if someone says not to swim in an area, I won’t.  Espeically now that I’ve felt the difference.

Gareth had to go to a martial arts class, which he’s casually serious about, (Is that an oxy-moron or what?!?!) so they dropped me off mid afternoon.  I went back to the cemetary and might have picked up something-it could have been the glare from the sun…It’s wierd how my mind tries to find a scientific reason for matter instead of instantly assuming it’s a ghost.  Years ago, I would have disregarded any reason other than that it has to be a ghost.  It’s a shame what 10 years can do to the imagination.  Or beliefs.  🙁  I didn’t stay long after my possible discovery and returned to the hostel while the sun was still high.  I was so wiped out from the waves I instantly fell asleep once I got to my room.

Gareth and Gunner picked me up to check out the north shore area Tuesday morning.  We went to Davenport and checked out some old Navy remnants-some dating back to the late 1800s.  It was a mass of underground tunnels and a bunch of storage rooms, and actually pretty cool.  Gunner is a Weimerheimer (sp?) and very friendly, and gave me a chance to see how Kiwis interact with eachother.  Kiwis are super friendly to begin with, and even more so with eachother.  After checking out the actual town of Davenport we drove up to Mt Eden, another extinct volcano and the highest point in Auckland.  The view was nice but after climbing up to high points of the city and checking out the view, it doesn’t do much for me anymore.  Gareth dropped me off, I read for a bit, and made it an early night.

If I’ve been informed correctly, today is Ash Wednesday.  I’m not going to church, but I am giving up Tim Tams for Lent.  Actually, I’m giving up anything made by Arnott’s (the brand who makes Tim Tams) and ice cream.  I’ve been eating quite a lot these, and neither my clothes nor my budget is appreciating this.  If I gave up drinking last year (which I was doing a lot of a year ago), I’m sure that a few sweets will be no problem this year.  But, I have one problem:  I don’t know when Easter is!

Is was pouring down rain my first full day in Auckland.  Ugh.  I miss Australia already!  I tried to take a walk to the supermarket-what would normally be a 20 minute walk ended up taking me nearly an hour.  Between stopping under awnings and fighting with my inside-out umbrella I ended up getting soaked, which was strange because every few minutes the rain would change.  It would alternate between a downpour and a soft rain.  But every time the rain let up a bit, the wind would take over.  I was bent over trying to walk against the wind.  It was insane!  I ended up hanging out in the hostel most of the day.  I couldn’t be bothered to deal with the rain.   I went out with my roommates to a bar, didn’t stay out late, but did ask the busker (street musician) to play some Bob Dylan for me when I noticed his harmonica stand on his collarbone.  I had to give him a dollar and he played “Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright”.  Great stuff.

On Saturday I went with my German roommate to walk around the city and go to the top of the Auckland tower to check out the view.  The weather here is very intermittent-rainy one hour and clear blue skies the next.  It had been raining for quite a while when we got to the top (53 stories I think?) so the views weren’t that great, but it was neat to see all of the extinct volcanoes around the city.  Lisa (the roomie) was afraid of heights, so it took her a while to get off the wall in the center.  I, on the other hand, was all up on the windows looking down, thinking to myself, “This isn’t that high…” Parts of the floor were glass instead of concrete and it was very entertaining watching everyone else afraid to step on it and then warming up to the idea of looking down below.  Lisa wouldn’t go near it, and of course, I took a photo of my feet suspended above the city below.  Lisa went back to the hostel and I hopped on the $1.60 bus that goes in a big circle around the city.  It was a good way to get an overview of the different areas of the city.  I went out with Lisa and a few other people from the hostel.  The bar we were in sucked;  some of the people we met were going to another bar that had a cover, but myself and a few of the other people are on a budget, so we went to the bottle shop (liquor store) and picked up a few bottles of wine and drank at the hostel with more like minded people.

I woke up after 6 hours of sleep ready to do some walking.  I walked 2 hours away from the city to check out Mt Roskill, the only reason being our names so similar!  I sat at the top and surveyed the land.  Today was clear so the sights were much better.  I checked out my map and realized I wasn’t too far from One Tree Hill, the exact hill U2 named their album after.  I also heard of a Coast to Coast Walkway that was supposed to be a nice scenic way of seeing the city.  I tried finding it with no luck for a while, but stumbled across it a few times while taking city streets to the tourist sights.  After checking out the view from the top of One Tree Hill, I realized that it was pretty much the same view I had from the Auckland tower, except today the skies were clear.  I saw quite a few sheep and lots of people trying to run up this hill-or ex volcano if you will. 

I realized that I was on the same street of a burger joint a friend had recommended to me.  She claims this is the best veggie burger she’s ever had and still gets cravings for it-and she was here in Auckland years ago.  So I ordered it, not knowing what was on it.  When they handed it to me, I thought they were handing me a brick.  I opened it up and examined the contents:  avocado, fried egg, lettuce, tomato, onion, shredded carrots, beetroot, pineapple, hashbrown, mushrooms, and salsa-all on like a French burger bun…yum!  It was so big it was hard to eat-it’s unfortunate that I could never get a bite that contained everything.  But it was so good!  So if anyone’s ever in Auckland, go to Alligators.  

By then I was exhausted (I’d then been walking for 7 hours) so I started heading back towards the city.  I stumbled across Harley Davidson (it was one of those days where you find everything you might be looking for) but being Sunday it was closed.  Near my hostel, I noticed a few old looking headstones popping out from beind a fence.  There was a huge sign advertising Symonds Street Cemetary that told about this history of it-it was really only used from the 1840s-1880s, so it’s a prime example of the Victorian headstones, not to mention a great way to research family lineage.  The cemetary is set on the side of a hill, and this hill is covered in beautiful foilage-palm trees, other trees unidentifiable to me, but massive with lots of brances and huge leaves.  I felt like I was in a rainforest (and technically maybe I was).  I have never seen a more beautiful cemetary.  If it was open, I’d change my mind about being cremated and want to be buried here. 

For those of you who don’t know me, I kind of have a thing for old cemeteries and ghosts.  I love walking around, inspecting the headstones, looking at dates and names and inscriptions.  And the afterlife has always interested me.  I spent a summer of my teen years hanging out in one of the most haunted places in the United States, if not the world-an old cemetary called Bachelor’s Grove.  Those of you who do know me, you know damn well I flipped my camera to black and white and started taking crazy amounts of pictures.  I think I took 100 but I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet.  I’ll let you know if anything comes out.  (The supernatural is known to appear through other forms of media-aren’t usually seen by the naked eye.)  I found a set of stairs and began descending them, until I got that instinctive feeling in my gut, not afraid of ghosts, but it was very near dusk, I had no flashlight, and I could hear branches falling off trees around me.  I promised myself I would come back in the daytime.  I think I spent over an hour there.  What an awesome day!   

When we flew over New Zealand, I was taken aback by how green it was.  Australia is so dry, and Victoria has been in a drought for the last eight years (hence all the fires).  The lush jutting (as opposed to rolling) hills were goregous, but was a strange sight for me beacause it was all one shade of green!  No 40 shades here!  The sky was overcast and it looked like rain.  I checked in, no problems, and got a three month visa upon my arrival!  Ha!-take that Pacific Blue bitch!  I just need to figure out some kind of itinerary so I can change my flight.  All in good time, my pretty, all in good time. 

After feeling like I was going to fall over myself walking down some pretty steep hills (having a 30 lb pack on my back didn’t help either) I made it to my hostel.  I didn’t really have time to get acclimated, since I had plans to meet up with a friend from Australia for dinner and drinks.  Mathieu (sp?) and his friend Marion are from France and are leaving to roadtrip the north island for the next two weeks.  I am meeting up with Mathieu in Wellington and we are going to roadtrip the south island together.  So for the next two weeks, I am going to check out Auckland and the area north of here.  After the South Island, I will make my way back north to Auckland.  These are the plans for now:  lets see how much they change… 

So I made it to the airport earlier than the suggested 120 minutes and checked in.  Or, attempted to.  It somehow slipped my mind that one needs proof of exit to enter New Zealand-or I thought that my flight home from Australia was proof enough.  Boy, was I wrong.  The Pacific Blue girl was going through her typical motions, asking if I packed my own bag and had it been in my possession the entire time while she was wrapping the sticky tag around the handle of my backpack.  When asked me if I had a return flight from New Zealand and got my negative answer, she abruptly ripped the tag off my backpack and said “You NEED a flight out of New Zeland”. 

When I asked her if there was internet access anywhere, she pointed abstractly behind my shoulder but sweetly said, “Or I can book it for you, if you’d like to fly Pacific Blue.”  Funny how people can change their attitude so quickly when trying to sell you something.  At a loss on what to do, half awake, and not eaten breakfast yet, I obliged.  She flipped through my passport to see when my Australian visa was up, since my flight HAD to be before the expiration date.  I didn’t understand this, since I had no problem purchasing a flight to China a few years ago without a visa.  And they’re communist!  Australia isn’t communist, last time I checked, and in fact, I was able to purchase my original flight to Australia without proof of visa…by then I felt discouraged, and was not about to start fighting with the woman who could obstruct my way into New Zealand, or out of Australia.  I had a plane to catch, and I was going to be on it.   

So I was forced to purchase a flight from Auckland (I clearly was not thinking) to Melbourne for March 18-at $170.  The only thing I can change on it is the date.  I would have had her check dates around that date, but I could feel the impatience looming of the growing crowd behind me.  So I grumbled to myself all the way to the gate about my misfortunes until I reminded myself that, hey, I am going to New Zealand, I’m not at home in the Chicago winter, and I can pretty much do whatever I want.  Why was I so upset??