I'm in an airport again, awaiting a intercontinental flight, again, and again, there is a child having a monumental tantrum about six inches from my left ear. I love airports.
Beeeeeer.
Someone just walked past me with a pint, and I've remembered something I like about airports. I don't have to do anything until tomorrow morning, and tomorrow morning is more than 28 hours away. Marvelous, I'll be off to find where that beer came from in just a moment. But first, I need to commit my memories from the last three days to silicon. Work now, sedate brain later.
My check-out morning (the one where I checked out of 154 the Terrace, Wellington) was a bit more hectic than planned. It was all going reasonably smoothly until Telecom kept me waiting for forty minutes to close down my telephone/broadband account, and then I couldn't get into the electrics cupboard to give Genesys a meter reading. This all made me about 45 minutes late for my appointment to give the keys back to Christian, and go and get the rental car. In the event, his able assistant was able enough, and I actually got to picking up the car only ten minutes later than planned. So, on the road at about 12:30. Good work.
The drive up to New Plymouth was unexciting, but it was nice to get out into the North Island scenery again. It has a much different feel to the South, more rolling hills and rumpled fields, and for some reason a bit greener. I suppose it's the extra sunlight? Or more rain? Or less of one or the other, or both? OK, I don't know what it is, but somehow the balance between sun, chlorophyl, water and soil is slightly better in the North than in the South.
I arrived in New Plymouth at about 5pm, surprised at how long it had taken, and how quick it had seemed. Most of the way, I was listening to "The Restaurant at the end of the Universe", trying to remind myself of another part of Ford and Arthur's lives that somehow had slipped my mind, despite reading all five books of the Hitchhiker trilogy frequently. I drove around and around the centre of New Plymouth a few times, looking for a hotel that matched my image. After getting a lot of practice at New Zealand Roads and their customs, I eventually found it, and it was the Waterfront, a bargain at $155 for the night. I ate at Molly someone's pub, a bizarre 'Irish' pub that seems to look like it is actually a recently rebanded English pub. Molly's surname didn't seem very Irish either, though it's slipped my mind now, so you can't judge for yourselves.
Wedensday morning started bright and early (9am) to get out and about and have a look up Mt Taranaki (a recently deactivated volcano). It's an impressive beast, and seeing it without a shroud of cloud is apparently quite lucky. I drove to the visitor centre halfway up, and took the 30-40 minute stroll, which, as these things often do, turned out to be very generous. Fifteen minutes later, back at the car, having particularly enjoyed the mountain view (completely obscured by vegetation) I decided to hit the road, knowing I still had something like 300km to cover. It didn't start well. I'd driven halfway along highway 3A before reaching the road closed sign, which forced me to backtrack to New Plymouth, effectively restarting my journey two hours after the first start.
I saw an absolutely massive pileup on one of the roads north. A truck was already there, being loaded with about 20-25 flattened cars, and there were probably about 10-15 more on the grass verge. The conclusion I came to was that the crash had involved a lorry carrying a load of flattened cars, and the side of the road. There were more dead cars than you'd get on a foggy M6 on bank holiday weekend.
With my early start, I hit the motorways heading into Auckland at about 3pm. I was very glad to see that they haven't changed at all since my last visit. Still covered in cones and contraflows. It went on for miles, and in New Zeland, the speed restriction througn roadworks is 30kph. That's slloooooooww. Despite the delays here, I was still in Mission Bay long before Steve finished work, although it would have been much later had I not called him from the road. I was convinced that he lived over the bridge in North Auckland, but no, he lives much further south, and at the junction I was slowly approaching at the point I called him.
Mission Bay is very nice, the sea front is... well, it's a sea front with shops cafes and bars. In that sense it reminds me of Manly. Or Scarborough. It really is a lovely spot, and I can understand why Steve preferred to be up North than down with us in Wellington. I went to Starbucks, the Reef Bar, and De Fontein, twice. The Aucklanders have a nasty habit of chilling the glasses for a pint of beer, and it just makes it too cold for me. Particularly in Winter.
Rob wasn't able to join us, due to illness in the family, but I caught up with both he and Steve for lunch today near their workplace, which is itself near the Domion, a big green area in the middle of Auckland, devoted to rugby and soccer fields. Auckland was a lovely place to be in today, the weather was glorious (not common for this time of year) and I had a good time wandering about. Try as I might though, I couldn't remember the places I stayed or visited there on my first trip seven years ago. I really do question what we did there, Adam and I, I can only remember the inside of the hostel, with its travel booking centre, and the centrepoint tower, which I revisited today.
So that's pretty much it. Since then, I've braved the Central Auckland traffic to drive to the airport, dropped the car and checked in 49kg of luggage. Can't believe I got away with that. My hand luggage weighs 14kg, and I can't believe I got away with that, either. So much for travelling home light!
Not looking forward to LA, but it's a necessary evil this time round. Not looking forward to 25 hours on the same plane, but it has to be done. I am looking forward to a braii with Tam and James, and to seeing the olds on Saturday. And the dog on Sunday. And my house on Sunday or Monday, whenever I get there.