051020031430NZT

This is the millionth attempt I’ve made at doing this entry (yes, several of those have actually involved sitting down and starting), but hopefully it will result in publication on my site. I almost resorted to "university assignment due tomorrow" tactics, which involve sitting at the keyboard and not going to bed until it’s done, but sleep won out yet again. I wholly blame addictive computer games though, so lucky I never picked up smoking or something.

So I can finally let the proverbial cat out of the equally proverbial bag …

I’m back in New Zealand!

It’s actually old news now because of my procrastination, I’ve been here for 2 weeks, chillin’ with the family and catching up with a few friends.

I couldn’t actually say what my plans were before it all happened, because I was planning to surprise my family and friends, some of whom actually read this … but more on that later.

My last day in Toronto dawned sunny and warm and I spent the morning lounging round David’s, repacking and meeting nice locals. Whilst I was hauling my pack down the road from the hostel (luckily I only had one block to go, as somehow I was carry about 25kg), I met a random rollerblader who was on his way home with a bag of bagels. He just started a conversation with me about where I was going etc and then he went inside to have his breakfast. Lovely. Also met an adorable old man called Trevor who worked at the Holiday Inn and told me all about the shuttle to the airport, and asked me to come and visit when I was back next year. As if I could afford to stay at the Holiday Inn! Anyway, it was a nice last morning, reinforces the idea that Canadians are lovely people! Had a couple of cheesy photos before the bus, and then I was off to the airport once again … Bye bye CN Tower, Lake Ontario, Tim Hortons coffee and all the little stuffed toy moose dressed as mounties …

The actual flight out of Canada was in 3 parts, Toronto-Chicago-Los Angeles-Sydney, and took about 22 hours, about 20 of which were actually in the air. It wasn’t too bad, but still very long and drawn out. I couldn’t even read my book on the 15 hour LA-Sydney leg because I didn’t have a light. So I randomly passed out between food trolley visits instead. So I left on Thursday afternoon, lost a day and arrived in Sydney at 6.15 Saturday morning.

Mick picked me up at 7am after I finally made it through customs etc. Sydney airport has the most driveable luggage trolleys I’ve ever used, in case that’s of note to anyone! We went to pick up Derrig and then went to have breakfast in Cronulla. Got mostly caught up with the boys, who would like me to inform all interested parties that they have acquired a physical inability to write email anymore, but they are fine otherwise! They’re sorry. I got kicked out of Mick’s house so he could have a band practice with the boys (not seriously kicked …), so took the train into the middle of the city and spent the afternoon wandering about, window shopping and looking at markets, gardens and the museum of contemporary art. Sydney is a wicked city from what I could see, I will definitely have to go back there sometime (like January, when I have a return ticket booked). I met the band, had dinner with the folks and then headed out to the pub with Mick and Phil, and met all their friends there (very very lovely people). Got to bed around 12.30 and got up at 5am to get my flight home. When I got up, Mick’s mum was waiting in the kitchen to see what I wanted for breakfast. What a sweetheart. Both her and her husband drove me out to the airport and dropped me off, which was excellent.

A short flight later and I was landing in New Zealand. I think it was the longest wait I’ve ever had to get through customs and I was about 3 weeks older by the time my luggage finally arrived on the belt. Nevermind. Bjorn was waiting for me at the gate and we threw everything into the car and drove out into the gloomy Auckland weather.

Now the way I had planned it was that I would arrive on my mum’s birthday (which I did) and then find out where they were having dinner and walk in and surprise them. Fine, in theory. I was about to have lunch with Bjorn when I realised that they might have been having lunch, not dinner. So I called my sister, no answer. Called another sister (I have 3), who picked up, and told me I had the wrong number (I convinced her otherwise, eventually). They were a little confused when my number came up as a local mobile number, but didn’t mention it, so I figured I wasn’t sprung after all. Then a conversation ensued where I decided it was a vaguely good idea to pretend I was still in Toronto and not driving down Dominion Road. I really just wanted to ask my sister where they were, avoid difficult questions, hang up and show up at the appropriate venue. No dice. I had to talk to my mum, using gems like "no, I don’t have a landline you can call me on right now", "I'm calling from a payphone", "uh, yeah, I guess that’s the time right now" and "I have to go just now but I’ll call you back when you’re finished with lunch". Very convincing. So Bjorn drove me home and when we pulled into the driveway, my little (not so little any more!) brother came out, looked at the car and ran away back inside again. Weird. I hauled my stuff up to the door, knocked, and shocked the hell out of my entire family. Awesome. I told them I knew there’d be free food so I thought I’d join them. Teehee.

So two weeks on, the weather has continued to range from bright sunshine (once or twice) through clouds, rain, hail, winds and thunderstorms to some sort of hurricane. I have had my car break down too, which was fun. I’ve caught up with a few of my friends (most of whom are just now finding out that I’m back), had everybody tell me how beautiful I am, helped Lucy move house, gone on several semi-successful shopping trips, watched a lot of cartoon network and listened to the most pop radio I think I’ve ever heard in my life. I don’t think that’s a good thing, although I’m finally getting used to hearing all the Noo Zilind accents on air. If anyone wants to know what’s playing more than 15 times a day on Auckland radio, just ask me. I know. Damn Nickelback. Does anybody else hate the White Stripes version of I don’t know what to do with myself? I know people must hate the new Daniel Bedingfield I’m a freakin’ wuss song, so I won’t ask about that.

I’m so proud that I’ve finally finished this. I’m also proud that you made it to the end. Give yourself a great big pat on the back, and I’ll owe you a big gold star!