By the numbers
Forgot my fitbit
1 plane
2 bag searches
1 flying book
Today was the day that I would travel to Queenstown on my
long awaited trip. I woke to my phone telling me that my flight had been
delayed for an hour so I could check in later if I wanted to. I did wonder if
Jetstar was being thoughtful over the storm I could still hear just before
430am. I was not too worried as I would get to the airport with heaps of time.
That was because the airport opens at 0430am. I took my time and when I
arrived, I found I had to print the bag tag off, which was never a problem and
dump on the carousel to unknown destinations. I was asked if I wanted an exit
row and that meant heaps of leg room. So in row 12 I ended up. I breezed
through customs to immigration becoming a little frayed / frazzled around the
edges telling people not to use trays, but trays would be picked up. I didn’t
mind about the delay, although a talkative man from Kyogle told me that the
delay was due to a mechanical fault. That made me feel better a touch and he
told me a story of a past flight with Qantas where the baggage hander ran into
the side of the cargo bay.
The chatty milatty from Kyogle was actually also in the same
row and an exit row too, but luckily on the other side of the row. I could hear
him chatting loudly over the obligatory safety demonstration to the poor dude
next to him. I was sat behind some sozzled Vodka drinkers. The flight wasn’t
really that bad, but it was like the plane was in a hurry to leave Australian
shores as it hooked a sharp right over the ocean and powered towards New Zealand
at a pace. I had the window seat vacant and that is where my book and drink sat
free of charge. On landing I learnt why my book should be wearing a seat belt
and that was because it flew off the seat on landing in Queenstown coming to
rest caught in the footrest of the seat in front. It could have slid further to
rest at the feet of the cabin crew or the captain would have wondered about a
book entering the cabin. Once off it was a quick trip through security and a
jump out of the airport when I got caught for a random search. No cavities were
harmed in this process. The border security lady and I were chatting away as
she searched my bag and I told her about my studies, my bike and my travel
plans. She even repacked my bags way better than I could. That was when she
found it. On my hat that had been in my bike for months. A seed! No problems
there, but it was recorded with photos and in a book. I was asked what I would
be using the cap for, no, really I was. Stumped, I said I would wear it. The
little seed stayed on the hat to continue the trave; and I was rewarded with
bag tags with sniffer dogs. I was earlier warned by another diligent border
keeper who figured my boots were hiking boots and told me I had to declare that
they could have plant material. At least I now had my bag search cherry popped
by a lovely kiwi lady.
Upon being set free and chased by a security Beagle out to
the exit, I wondered where I could go to catch the bus. I asked the random
driver if he was eventually going to Queenstown and then he said what I thought
was $4. I gave him that and his hand stayed opened with a puzzled look
especially when he said he could give change. Turns out it was $12, n wonder he
gave the change question and he did laugh. The hills had a small amount of snow,
but not much to write home about. The bus dropped me off in Queenstown and I
found my way to the hostel without any problems. I still had time to explore
and went to the Ice Bar called Below Zero. It wasn’t that cold, but I got a
drink. It never froze me and was just like I was at work and you could tell I
wasn’t concerned about the cold other than the drink had been served in an ice
glass.
I was happy to wander the town without my fitbit that was
still in my bag and I knew I wanted to find the cemetery to have a browse for a
short time before hunting down something to eat. I seen a nice little hostel
with a stream near the RSA branch. I headed for Queenstown garden where I could
see some nice flowers and some sights of the hills called The Remarkables. It
was getting late and I had been up for all hours and I think I was close to
being worn out. People were playing Frisbee golf and its a legit game, where
you have a target to hit. I had explored and gotten lost in Queenstown. I did
see a singing dog. The owner a busker was singing and the dog would belt out a
few tunes. I know where I have to catch the bus in the morning for my trip to
Christchurch via Mt Cook. I am happy to stay in Queenstown for an afternoon and
that was the whole idea of arriving here as it meant I could work my way up
north.
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