There ain’t much travel happening these days, so I’m taking the opportunity to write up my accounts of trips long past – back when I thought a blog was a fallen tree in Transylvania.

Across the Ditch

It’s 3:30 AM and I’m out of bed.  That’s not so unusual, except this time it’s not just a quick trip to the loo and dive back under the covers.  Today, or maybe I should say, tonight, we’re off on our very first trip ‘across the ditch’.  Yep.  We’re heading to New Zealand.

4:00 AM on the dot, we jump in the car with friends Murray and Jenny and hit the road to Brisbane.  As we stare out into the dark night, I’m tempted to say something uncharitable like “if you guys had booked the Air New Zealand flight like we did, we could have all enjoyed an extra five hours in bed.”  I don’t say it.  Partly because I’m not that sort of person, partly because Nanette and I are only travelling on the more expensive airline because it’s the one that accepted our frequent flyer points, but mostly because I know that this little band will spend much of the next week cramped together in the confines of a shared hire car.

My, my, is it 12 noon already?  Murray and Jenny flew away into the grey winter sky about four hours ago, but we’re still sitting in the airport.  Nanette is engrossed in a book.  I’ve read the newspaper, drunk coffee, and finally resorted to reading the manual for our fancy new digital camera.  Wow! This thing has 3.2 megapixels, whatever they are, and is equipped with 10 Mb of internal memory!  That should last us for the whole trip, but I’ve decided to spend the extra fifty bucks on a duty free 16 Mb memory card, just in case.  Ah, they’re calling our flight – we’re off.

The three-hour flight passes quickly and, before we know it, we’ve collected our bags and joined the line at immigration.  The agent is pleasant. “Willcome to New Zulland”.  Ah, I’ve been studying New Zealand customs, so I reply “Sweet as, mate. Yeah nah. Just goin to get me chilly bin.” To my surprise, Nanette grabs my arm before I get the chance to lean forward and rub noses in the traditional New Zealand greeting. How strange!  She knows I’ve been practising that for weeks!

As planned, Murray and Jenny are waiting in the arrivals hall.  Ever practical, Jenny fills us in on the happenings since they arrived. “So, we’ve picked up the hire car, booked us all into our cabins for tonight, bought some milk and fresh fruit and arranged dinner for tonight.”  Murray, being a bloke, has a simpler view.  He holds out his hand, as if in greeting.  “Here’s the car keys.  You’re driving.”