” I won’t ever see December 10, 2013 again, but I’ll have December 26th twice! ”
She laughed at me, as I said my thank you’s and headed down the driveway to my temporary residence for the next 16 days.
When I landed at Wellington, I thought I had landed in Morro Bay or San Francisco. The sky was dim, some sun with lots of clouds. I could see mountains of wood homes scattered throughout, and water everywhere. There were a few tall buildings but nothing like home – it all seemed calm, with a slowness about it that was more about just being there than having to get things done. I waited for most of the people to leave the plane first, about half of them offered to help me with my suitcase, which never happens in L.A. I didn’t accept, I’m too stubborn.
I walked around the airport casually before heading to baggage claim to meet my host. I judge every airport I go to. I like to see what posters are up, what restaurants there are, and how the areas are set up. Wellington has a very nice, clean airport. It’s easy to walk around in and easy to find where you’re going. Auckland was difficult and confusing. There was one long green line from the international terminal to the domestic but it’s outside and I had to ask to find it. Then it was a twelve minute walk across the grounds – ten for those with longer legs – to get to the gate. The arrows point in all directions but not all directions go where you need to go. I saw a few other people lost too, so I didn’t feel so dumb.
Once I got past the main area in Wellington Airport with the giant hawks and Gollum replicas, ( I didn’t take photos this time but I will on my return ), I headed down the stairs to see a frumpy old man with nice beard holding a sign with my name. That was a first! I imagined how my grandfather might draw that image in his cartoon style and decided I would do that myself sometime during the trip.
“Hi there! I think you’re looking for me. ” I said with a smile, which I rarely do.
“Is that all you have?” Andrew asked, surprisingly pointing at my tiny little suitcase.
“Yep, I travel light.” I might be just a bit too proud of my packing skills.
We headed out the doors, past some taxis, down a long yellow line, and through a parking lot. His car was old, white, and dirty, but sweet in that nice simple way. He opened the trunk for me, and pointed to the left side of the car, reminding me it’s the opposite of what I’m used to. I hopped in, feeling weird but not awkward that I wasn’t staring at a wheel in front of me. For some reason it didn’t really seem or feel different. In an odd way, it seemed normal, and I kept wondering why as we pulled out and headed out of the airport lot.
Andrew made some light chat with me and volunteered to take me to the highest point to see all of Wellington. I learned that he’s a retired software tech, with four kids, and has a strong accent that takes me a second to understand what he said. I think his grandson is coming tomorrow to help with firewood… Or maybe it was an engine? Like I said, strong accent. Later his wife would tell me I have weird accent that didn’t sound normal for an American, but more like I was from London – that was another first.
Driving on the left side of the road seems no more dangerous than it is the right, I decided, as we went through many short turns around the landscape. Andrew gave me some historical info on the island as we drove. One thing he mentioned was that London engineers created the design of the roads. Having never set foot in New Zealand, their grid-like structure did not work very well in the wild and winding terrain. Another fact was that there were no animals other than birds in New Zealand, not even a snake.
Mom would love it here just for that reason, and so would Indy. I chuckled to myself.
After driving up a road similar to Laurel Canyon Road back in Los Angeles, we parked at the top of a hill, where a bus was waiting and many other tourists were taking photos. We walked up several flights of stairs and there it was: a majestic view of Wellington. It was a small city but seemed large to me, in part from the fact that this is such a new experience, and in part because of the way the land and water are situated. Sadly, I forgot to take my camera up with me when we reached the viewpoint. Guess I’ll just have to go back to the view point again – how terrible.
More historical lessons took place, and a mention of a cricket match which I could probably have watched from there. Andrew brought up their museums across the bay, and before he could finish I had already decided I would go there tomorrow before I see “The Hobbit”, as it appears they are next door to each other.
After an interesting shopping experience at the nearest costco-like grocery store, where a machine told me to input a code, but apparently it didn’t really need a code, we headed for home. I had a hard time figuring out what cheeses and other food to get because the brands were nothing I knew. I think Andrew could tell I was confused because he helped me a bit.
Whats a rock mellon? I asked myself. It looks and smells like a Cantaloupe. I hope it’s a Cantaloupe. I placed it in my basket and moved on to avocados.
Returning to the left side of the car, I watched the other drivers and the roads as we drove on the freeway. Street names were all or mostly all based on their native culture. I think Andrew said ” kiwi ” or “Maurakasjdjask” – I’ll have to look it up later. We turned left onto the gravel road leading up, and up, and up into a small area surrounded by a stream, trees and sky.
The wind was a bit strong, but the stream made it all quiet and peaceful. The carport was basically a few posts and a piece of wood on top. Another similarly built structure was a bit further back and appeared to be full of firewood.
I think Andrew said something but all I heard were birds, the stream and wind. Lois, his wife, came out to greet us.
She was a little bit taller than myself, maybe my mom’s height, with short grey hair and often just replied with, “ya…..ya, mhm…ya”. She proceeded to give me a tour of my new tiny and incredibly neat rental: A queen bed with a black bedspread, red pillows; a large off-white tile floor with long black and red carpets; a small kitchen; and a pleasant bathroom with a corner shower.
It even had a towel rack that warms towels (someone remind me to get one of those, just for my hands because they never seem to stay warm). The outlets all had on/off switches, a functionality I would love at home. Then I realized the horror:
I forgot to buy the plug adapter!
I knew I was going to forget something, of course it had to be that. My iPad was at 100% because I’d kept it off this whole time, but it wouldn’t last me the night, especially if I decided to write. Terrible, Alicia, just terrible. – no sarcasm this time.
Lois, Andrew, and I chatted for a bit longer. They offered to take me a few places if I wanted, and to let them know if I needed anything.
“What will you do now?”
” I think I’ll take a nap, I haven’t slept much, I’ve been too excited.” I smiled, clapping my hands as a I always do to show I’m more than just a little content. I took one more look around, and indicated I was going to head down to my basement in the trees.