Auckland, New Zealand
An early morning flight. Easy. I packed first, so I could spend the day at the tennis, pop out for a drink or two then get several hours sleep, up at five, walk to the skybus and airport before 6. No problem.
And there was no problem, just that I reverted to teenage years and turned two drinks into, um, I don’t know, 6? And half a bottle of wine? And forwent the sleep in favour of rolling into my room after 4, grabbing my stuff, packing the last bits in the corridor and going from there. I can, though, recommend Silgo bar in Melbourne for an atmospheric after hours drink with a view of parliament. Which I hadn’t seen – last minutes in Melbourne bonus=score.
It worked. The flight was delayed an hour which became an hour and a half before it landed, which gave me time to develop and travel the whole way with a hangover. I still enjoyed the huge Airbus A380, but had to sleep before I could watch one of the films. Going through customs with a hangover is okay, but I wish it hadn’t taken as long. If I’d been more awake I might have talked to the obviously British, obviously a band group of 4 that were next to me in line when the snaking queue aligned the right way. There were members of another band somewhere further along – them I identified not by instruments and wacky hair but the self-conscious and over-loud noise of someone who wanted everyone to know he got paid okay for his last gig.
Eventually I could get the airbus, which pushed air rather than flying through it, but dropped me handily, half a mile from my hostel in Mount Eden. The temperature is glorious – after Melbourne’s heat, 20c is lovely. The only problem is that walking in it around 6pm, I really wanted to run. At least the desire hasn’t gone, but I’m still resting an injury (parkrun is exempt).
I found trousers in K Mart, talked to German roommates who were convinced the whole of Germany is in Australia and New Zealand – not my experience, though this hostel is half German – and was asleep by 9.30. New country!